It is said that one of the most beautiful moments in human history is when two people are looking into each other’s eyes next to a priest, with all their family members watching while they promise to love each other for the rest of their lives. The wedding: the most beautiful event ever to be invented by men or women (it’s probably women). The event combines tribes, nations, families and sometimes races.

The phone rang. It was a call from my wife-to-be, my beautiful fiancee, Vuyelwa.

“Love, it’s 5 am, what’s up?” I asked, as soon as I answered the phone.

“I love you,” she said.

Weddings sometimes seem to excite women more than they excite men.

“I love you too,” I responded.

“I miss you so much.”

“But you saw me two days ago.”

“I know, but I can’t help it.”

“Well, we’re not supposed to see each other until tomorrow,” I said.

Vuyelwa and I met in a very strange way. It was a long day at work and I was stuck in Johannesburg traffic. I worked as an accountant at a bank. As I was focused on the road, a car hit me from behind. I stopped instantly, drove to the side and got out of my car. I was furious.

“What have you done?!” I screamed.

Stepping out of a nice Kia came this scared woman. She saw how frustrated I was so she started apologising.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me.”

I realised how scared and vulnerable she was, so I became a bit more understanding.

“Do you have insurance?” I asked her.

“No, this is not even my car, I’m sorry,” she said, with tears in her eyes.

There was a police car nearby, it stopped and they came to check the situation.

“Is everything alright here?” asked the police officers.

“I’ve hit his car by mistake,” said the lady.

“Do you have insurance, ma’am?” the police officer asked her.

“No, it’s not my car.”

“Do you want to give us a statement, sir?”

I took a look at her, and she was terrified. A tear started falling from one of her eyes.

“No, it’s fine,” I told the police officer.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll fix it,” I said.

“Alright then,” said the police officer.

I got into my car and drove off. I told myself that what I did was a good thing. She didn’t seem to have the money to pay me, suing her would be stupid. After a while as I was driving, I looked at the mirror and to my surprise, her car was behind me again. She realised that I had seen her, so she decided to hit the hooter. I went off the road and she followed me.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I can’t believe what you did there,” she said, as she got out of her car.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” I said.

Since I was no longer angry, I noticed the small details about her, details I didn’t pay attention to when I first saw her, like her beautiful big eyes.

“I just feel bad. I wish I had money to pay you, I am currently unemployed. I sell Tupperware. You can give me your bank account details, when I have money, I’ll send it,” she said.

“What’s your name?” I asked.


“OK Vuyelwa, I’m Thapelo.” I said. “Give me your number,” I added.

She became a bit hesitant, “Why?”

“So that I can send you my bank details.”

“Oh, OK.” She called out her number.

“Where do you stay?” I asked her.

“In Soweto, I stay with my aunt.”

We said our goodbyes and parted ways.

Days passed and the following week I passed by Soweto and remembered her. I decided to call her to meet up and we did. One meeting led to another and the next thing we started dating.

Back to the night before the wedding. Everything was planned. It was Friday and I had just come from a bachelor party the night before. Then I was on the phone with this woman who was about to become my wife and she was trying to convince me to go to see her before the wedding.

“How was the bachelor party?” she asked.

“It was fun.”

“Were there any strippers?”

“No,” I said, while laughing.

“It’s OK, I’ll understand even if there were any, it’s nothing big,” she said.

Hollywood movies have created a culture that makes people think that every bachelor party must have strippers and it must be crazy.

“There were no strippers, it was a fun night. We drank, sang and spoke the whole night, and they were mostly making fun of the fact that I’m the first to get married among us,” I told her.

“What’s there to make fun about?”

“I don’t know, I guess marriage scares a lot of men.”

“Does it scare you?”

“Just a little.”

“Well, it scares me too,” she said, with a low voice.

“Whatever it is that’s scary about it, we’ll overcome it together,” I affirmed.

“So, are you coming to see me?”

“I’m in Cape Town, babe.”

“Just drive to Johannesburg now, please,” she begged.

“I’ll see, let me talk to the guys,” I responded.

I wanted to go, her voice made me miss her. So I went to talk to my friends. We planned to leave later that day so that we could get ready for the wedding, which would be held at a church in Soweto.

I told the guys that I was leaving before them, “I’m going to see my wife-to-be,” I said.

It was early morning and they asked me wasn’t I planning to leave later? I told them my lady was waiting for me. Being stubborn as I was, I left. They decided they would come later. I got into the car; it was around 8 am. I took a shortcut and I found myself in an unpleasant situation. I was in a location that is commonly known for its gangsters. Obviously, I didn’t know that at the time so I kept driving my nice VW car.

Everything happened so fast. A huge brick hit my car bonnet, I stopped, and the next thing there was a gun pointed at my head.

“Get out of the car,” they said.

I got out of my car and they got in, they took my phone and wallet, they literally took everything. As I tried to negotiate with them, they hit me with a gun on the head. I lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

When I woke up in was late, around 9 pm, and I was at the local clinic.

“Where am I?” I asked the nurse.

“You’re at a local clinic. The ambulance found you unconscious on the ground,” she said.

“Can you please let me use your phone,” I pleaded with her.

She gave me her phone and I called my fiancee.

“Love,” I said.

“Thank you God. Thapelo where have you been, where are you? We’ve been trying to reach you the whole day, we even called the police. Are you OK?” she asked.

“I’m alright. I’m at the hospital in Cape Town. I got hijacked,” I told her.

“Oh my God. Where? I’m coming,” she said.

“No, don’t, or come with the police, this location is not safe,” I warned her.

“Alright, I’ll bring the police.”

They came to get me. My head was bandaged and I was not feeling well.

“I’m postponing the wedding to next week,” she said.

“Where’s your phone, we need to block all my bank accounts,” I demanded.

She gave me her phone, I blocked all the cards. They managed to withdraw R8 000, which is not a lot of money.

The following morning, I woke up around four and I was feeling great.

“Love, wake up.”

I woke her up.

“What?” she asked

“I feel great, let’s get married today,” I said.

“What, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The wedding continued, we got married around 2 pm, which is late for a wedding, but she became my wife that day.


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