Bafana watches as Vuyo puts away the dishes. He wishes he could just stand up and hug his waist, then kiss his neck, he knew he couldn’t do that, though, as there were people around.

“Bafana.” Mr Ndlovu, Vuyo’s father, says, distracting Bafana from his naughty thoughts.

“Yebo, baba?” Bafana replies, his eyes shifting from Vuyo to the direction of Mr Ndlovu.

“I hear you’re a doctor.” Mr Ndlovu says, sipping his whiskey casually.

“Oh, yes. I have just started.” Bafana smiles, proudly

“Your father must be so proud. You are from the Xulu home, yes?” Mr Ndlovu asks.

“Yes. The first child of Mpikay’pheli Xulu.” Bafana responds.

“I wish my son was as ambitious as you, he’s just a dancer. A mere dancer.” Mr Ndlovu shakes his head, turning his head to steal a glance at Vuyo, who’s frozen to the dishes

“Its also a good career, Mr Ndlovu.” Bafana defends his lover.

“Oh! I paid thousands of rands to educate this boy. He lied and said he was pursuing a lawyers degree. Then he came home with a dancers certificate. Where have ypu ever seen a man who dances ballet?” Mr Ndlovu says, firmly.

Vuyo’s little brother, Msizi runs in the room suddenly, carrying a baby doll on his back, he has been playing dolls and house with his twin sister.

“Boy don’t test me! Get that doll off your back! What kind of a boy are you?” Mr Ndlovu shouts, ripping the boy and the doll apart.

Msizi screams his lungs out, Mrs Ndlovu who has been quiet all this while stands up,
“That’s enough baba, Msizi come to me boy.”she says with a shaky voice.

“You’re spoiling this boy! Stop crying! What kind of a man are you?” Mr Ndlovu roars, slapping the boy mercilessly.

Bafana shifts uncomfortably on his seat, and Vuyo turns and looks at him then back at his brother, his eyes shining with tears.

“He’s not a man, he’s a boy, he’s only five, Boyabenyathi.” Mrs Ndlovu begs, trying to stop her husband who’s lashing the boy with a belt.

“I’m training him now, he must be a man now. Who will take him seriously when he plays with his twin sister?” Mr Ndlovu screams, at the top of his voice.

He then picks up the boy, and they watch as he throws him in the dustbin outside, the boy screams with fear, as Mr Ndlovu shuts the lid of the bin, then shouts, “If I ever see you playing dolls or acting out of the way a boy should, you’ll remain there, forever.”he then stomps inside the house and sits down.

Silence befalls the room.

“I should get going.” Bafana stands up, and pushes the chair quietly back to the table.

“I’m almost done. Please, stay. I’ll walk with you, I need some air.” Vuyo says, with a tear soaked voice.

Bafana sits back down, quietly. Mrs Ndlovu’s eyes are filled with tears, which she is trying so hard to hold back. She finally fails to hold back the tears and runs to her bedroom, and a few minutes after, they hear soft sobs.

“That was hectic.” Bafana says, as he and Vuyo walk aimlessly back to his house.

“It’s always hectic, my love.” Vuyo says, slipping his hands in Bafana’s.

“No! What if someone saw us?” Bafana slips it off quickly.

“Relax, there is no one here.” Vuyo smiles, assuringly.

“Your father would kill us, if he found out about us.”

“I know. Sometimes I wish it was just us two, in the world.” Vuyo says

“I know.”

“Why don’t we run away? You could get a transfer, and we could move far away, from all this madness. I can look for a job, and I would cook lots and lots of tripe for you.” Vuyo says

“I’d love that. But, you know I cannot leave my family behind.” Bafana responds

“You could send them money every month end,babe.” Vuyo pleads.

Bafana goes deep in thought, Vuyo holds his hand and kisses it gently. In A moment of weakness, they both kiss, as the kiss deepens Bafana hears some shuffling in the bushes.

“Did you hear that?” Bafana pushes Vuyo away

“What?”

“There’s someone in the bushes.” Bafana says

“There is no one there.”

“Is anybody there?” Bafana shouts

Silence.

“See, no ones there. Relax baby.” Vuyo kisses his hand and they continue walking to Vuyo’s place, in silence.

“My boys!” Bafana’s father, Mpikay’pheli, says, as he spots the two men walking towards Bafana’s backroom.

“Baba!” Vuyo greets, smiling.

“Hows your father, boy?” Mpikay’pheli asks, he’s sitting outside, smoking cigarette. He is a tall and chubby man, who owns cows and a supermarket. He is regarded as one of the rich men, in the village.

“He’s okay, father.” Vuyo replies.

“That is a man amongst men. He is the one who supplies my cows with medicine, you know. The only educated old man in the village. A vet.” Mpikay’pheli smiles, pulling his cigarette.

Vuyo nods, he is proud of his father’s achievements.

“You boys, you’re getting old now. When are you getting married? You’re 29. When I was your age, I already had married two wives, Bafana. I had four kids, at your age.” Mpikay’pheli smiles, proudly.

He is a proud polygamist. He has three wives, and eighteen children. Eleven boys and seven girls, Bafana being the eldest.

“Please baba, I will get married, when the time is right.” Bafana smiles shyly

“Bafana, you’re getting old. You even have a face full of beard, and chest hair. I’ve never seen you with a girl, I’ve never even had to beat you up, cause you sneaked girls in. Oh come on, boy, make me sweat, like the other men who have sons your age do.” Mpikay’pheli insists, blowing out his cigarette smoke.

“With time, baba.” Bafana replies.

“When will you get married? When that stick of yours doesn’t work? You know,it’s better to start a family when you’re still young and healthy. Trying for a baby is very exhausting,if you know what I mean.” Mpikay’pheli warns his son, with a naughty smile.

“I’ll remember that, baba.” Bafana says, and rushes to his room.

“You boys.” Mpikay’pheli shakes his head, And continues blowing out smoke.

****
“That was pressing.” Vuyo says, as soon as they’re in the safety and warmth of Bafana’s backroom.

“Tell me about it.” Bafana wraps his hands around Vuyo’s small structure.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you.” Vuyo kisses Bafana passionately.

Soon, the two men are engrossed in love making, professing their love for each other through physical and intimate contact.

“I love you, Vuyo.” Bafana smiles sheepishly, breathing heavily.

“I love you too, Bafana. I’ll always do.” Vuyo replies, and strokes Bafana’s chest hair.

Bafana kisses Vuyo’s forehead slowly, and closes his eyes, he wishes it could just stay like this forever.

“Marry me.” Bafana says, shocking himself in the process.

Vuyo jumps up from the bed,and stands up, his eyes and mouth wide open
“What?”he almost screams.

“I said, would you please make me happiest man alive, and marry me?” Bafana replies, going down on one knee.

“I..I will!” Vuyo shouts, and gets engrossed in an embrace with his lover, soon to be husband.

It is a very cold winter evening, the rain is drizzling, and Bafana is enjoying the warmth his blankets are providing. He checks his cellphone, and notices that he hasn’t received any calls nor messages from his fiance. He starts getting frustrated, and calls his lover, it goes unanswered.

He tosses his cellphone on the side of his bed, and closes his eyes, attempting to sleep. He can’t sleep, something about Vuyo not answering his cellphone is making his insides twist and turn.
He grabs his phone again,and dials Vuyo’s number, he knows them off by heart. It rings unanswered, yet again.

His door bursts open, and his mom comes running in, his beautiful and ageing mother, MaCele.

“Bafana!”she shouts, looking startled and determined.

“Ma! Is everything okay?” Bafana stands up, and walks towards his birth giver.

“You need to leave! My boy! You have to go, now!”she says

“Why?” Bafana asks.

As she’s about to reply, an angry mob starts singing outside;
“Kill them! Kill them! They’re dogs!”

“Ma, whose that?” Bafana asks, his heart pounding.

An angry man, Mr Thusi, normally the village mob leader, walks in, and tanks Bafana from his mom, leading him outside to the angry mob.
He shoves Bafana to the ground, and kicks his face, making Bafana bleed from the mouth.

“Ah! What have I done?” Bafana cries, holding his jaw.

“You’re a dog! Where have you seen a man who sleeps with another man! What do you feel?” Mr Thusi shouts, waving his infamous stick, that he uses to beat whomever got on the wrong side of the mob.

Bafana immediately knows, he was right, someone did see them in the bushes the previous evening. He endures the beatings and spits that the mob serves him with, he also spots his mom crying helplessly, screaming
“Forgive him! Please!”

His eyes land on his father, Mpikay’pheli. He’s just watching on, his eyes full of anger and sadness. He hopes his father could reach out,and help him, but instead he shouts,
“Disgrace! I don’t have a son!”

That makes Bafana immediately cry, he’s crying because of the hatred he sees in his father’s eyes, he knows he’ll never look at him the same.

Suddenly, his mind drifts to Vuyo. Where is he? What have they done to him? He stops crying, and starts shouting,
“Vuyolwethu!”

When he screams his lovers name, the mob gets even more angry and increase their lashings on him.

Snot, tears, saliva and blood, define the new him, now. He hears police sirens in the far distance, and he notices the mob dispersing, before he finally collapses.

Bafana wakes up in his bed, he looks around to see his mom at his bedside, crying and praying.

“Ma”he says, licking his lips.

“Oh! Praise God! My boy.” MaCele smiles, and holds Bafana’s hand.

“How are you?”he asks his mom, forgetting his own excruciating pains.

“Oh nevermind me. How are you feeling?” MaCele asks, tears streaming down her cheeks

“I’m okay.” Bafana tries to smile, but doing so hurts

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Dad.” Bafana says

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll come around.”she assures him

Bafana shakes his head, he knows thats a lie, as much as his mom does.

“Vuyo..Vuyolwethu.” Bafana whimpers.

His mom looks away, and stands up hastily, fetching him a bowl of soup. “I made you some soup.”she says, helping him sit up.

“Mama, where is my fiance?” Bafana asks, softly, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Open up, my son, try to drink.” MaCele ignores his question

“Ma, where is he?” Bafana presses her

“I know how much you love oxtail soup.” MaCele smiles soothingly

“Ma! I don’t want any soup! Where is my fiance?” Bafana shouts. He has never shouted at his mom before.

MaCele jumps from her seat and composes herself for a while, her eyes and focus entirely on stirring the hot steamy soup.

“I’m sorry Ma, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m so so sorry.” Bafana apologizes, and opens his mouth so his mom can feed him.

“You have to eat, Bafana.” MaCele says

In that moment, Mpikay’pheli walks in, a sjambok in hand. MaCele stands up, the bowl of soup slips and breaks instantly.

“Xulu, Gxabashe. Please, baba, don’t.”she begs her husband.

Mpikaypheli ignores her and stares right at his first born son, his pride and joy, pure disgust and hate in his eyes.

“The boy is already hurt, baba. He’s learnt his lesson” MaCele says

Mpikay’pheli pushes her to the side and walks straight towards his son. He lashes him mercilessly with his sjambok.

“Ahhhh baba! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, baba ahhh!” Bafana cries.

“I’ll beat this gay disease out of you,boy!” Mpikay’pheli shouts, showing him no mercy.

“Baba please! I’m sorry! I’m hurting, baba!” Bafana pleads for mercy

“Xulu! Stop! Stop!” MaCele shouts, with her tear soaked voice.

“This son of yours has embarrassed me in front of the entire village. What will people think of me? That I raised a good for nothing half boy half girl of a son? This stupid thing that will never give me grandkids? I used to love this boy.” Mpikaypheli turns and looks at his wife.

“He’s your son. You still love him.” MaCele says

“I’d rather he were dead, not gay.” Mpikaypheli walks out, clicking his tongue.

MaCele helps Bafana get up, he is bleeding profusely.

“Oh and, get out of my house.” Mpikaypheli says, poking his head through the door.

Bafana packs his clothes slowly, he keeps wincing and calling his fiance, to no avail. His last born brother walks in, he’s 6, carrying a kite.

“Bhut’Bafana, please come and fly the kite with me.” Mpumelelo says, smiling.

“You want to fly the kite, boy?” Bafana tries to sound cheery and normal.

His other little sister, Nomsa, who’s 11, walks in too, tears streaming down her face.

“Why did the people want to kill you, Bafana?”she asks, sniffing.

“They don’t want to kill me.” Bafana assures his sister.

“They do! I saw them. Why didn’t father help you?” Nomsa sniffs

“Father was just shocked, that’s all.” Bafana defends his dad. Even though at that moment, he felt nothing but pure hatred for his father.

“I love you, Bafana. I don’t want you to die.” Mpumelelo cries too.

They both walk towards him and give him a bone crushing hug, he tries not to cry even though he’s over emotional and in pains.

“Is it because you’re inlove with Vuyo?” Nomsa asks, after breaking the hug

“Who told you that?” Bafana asks

“People are talking, brother. I think you and Vuyo are suited for each other. What’s wrong with you loving Vuyo, brother? I thought father wanted you to get married, and now that you want to marry, he beats you.” Nomsa wipes her tears with her palm.

Bafana just cries his eyes out, and hugs his little sister, who for her age, is so naive and sheltered. She doesn’t know anything, she doesn’t know how cruel her surroundings are

“Boy! You Don’t listen!” Mpikaypheli walks in, and rips Nomsa and Bafana apart.

“I was saying goodbye, baba.” Bafana stands up, holding his stomach.

“You want to infect them with this..this..thing of yours. You’d better leave, boy.”his dad roars.

“Nomsa, what’re you?” Mpikay’pheli asks his daughter.

“A girl.” Nomsa replies, crying.

“What does a girl marry?”he asks again

“A boy.” Nomsa says

“Good.” Mpikaypheli says, then turns to Mpumelelo, “Mpumelelo, what’re you?”he asks

“A boy.” Mpumelelo sniffs

“Wipe those tears!”he shouts.

Mpumelelo quickly brushes his tears with his hand, and looks up at his father, bravely.

“What does a boy marry?”he asks

“A girl.” Mpumelelo replies.

Once Mpikay’pheli is satisfied he drags his kids out of the backroom, then turns to look at Bafana, “Get out!”he says, and bangs the door.

Chapter Six
Bafana packs his bags into his Ford, and hops in. He drives and parks at Vuyo’s gate.

He walks up the front yard and knocks. Vuyo’s mom opens the door, with swollen eyes and a red nose. She has been crying.

As soon as she sees Bafana, she hugs him tightly and whispers;
“Be strong.”

“Where is he?” Bafana asks her

“He’s in his bedroom. Take him, Bafana. Take him and run away! Before his father and the mob kills the both of you!” Vuyo’s mom says, in a hushed voice.
“Wait here.” Vuyo’s mom says and disappears in the house.

She comes back a few minutes later, holding a very weak and distraught Vuyo by the arm. Vuyo is roughed up and he looks bad. He has bandages almost all over.

“Bafana” Vuyo smiles gently

“Vuyo.” Bafana hugs him,tightly

Vuyo’s mom hands Bafana her sons bag filled with clothes, and gives them a sum of R7000
“It’s what I have right now.”she says

“It’s okay ma. I’ll take care of him” Bafana smiles, assuringly.

As Bafana helps Vuyo in the car and shuts the door, Vuyo’s mom shouts;
“I’ve always known.”then she smiles and waves at them.

Bafana smiles and waves back,before hopping in the car next to his lover.

As he starts the engine, Vuyo squeezes his hand and smiles at him,

“Why don’t we run away?” Vuyo asks

“Yes, why don’t we run away?” Bafana smiles and kisses his hand, and the car drives away, leaving their narrow minded village behind.

As they both steal glances at each other, they know that the city and the other part of the world has a place for them. A place for their love, too bad it took beatings and a near death experience for them to realize it.