There is a girl I knew who was so strong. The bad thing was she was too naïve to witness that. Her name was Bontle Shamase. She was in an abusive relationship with the most dangerous hooligan from the hood. Her parent had failed to break this gangster love. The more they tried to intervene in her love for her gangster lover, the more they pushed her to the edge to love him so deeply and unconditionally.
Her gangster lover was known as Killer. Killer was a feared young man who was indeed handsome, but he was a gangster. Crime was his life and he had always been in and out of prison. You could swear prison was his second home. I cannot blame the kid for aligning himself with darkness. This great love for crime runs deep through the family, from his father to his mother to his big brother. They were all criminals who were infamous in the hood.
Killer did love Bontle, but he was physically and emotionally abusive. Killer was paranoid and insecure. Hearing hearsay that his lovely girlfriend was cheating on him with some dude who was not in the crime world drove him crazy. So, he set the plan he had been constructing for months to catch this bitch of his red-handed in the act. He cleaned his revolver, as he said “Tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day, I am going to set a booby trap for this two-faced no-good bitch. Nobody double crosses killer. I am not Killer for nothing. I killed six people when I was sixteen years old. I am the top dog.”
Bontle indeed was cheating on Killer. Her excuse was that Killer did not have time for her, and he physically abused her. It was February 14 and Killer came home unexpected looking for Bontle. The door was open. He saw men’s shoes, expensive Nike sneakers. He saw a man’s trouser and T-shirt. He followed the trail of clothes which led him to the bedroom where he found his girlfriend and some guy naked and making love. This other guy was Bontle’s old flame, Sbu. Sbu was a rich kid who broke up with Bontle years ago to finish his Civil Engineering degree in Johannesburg.
“What the fuck?” said Killer, also shocked as he dropped red roses, red wine and sexy lace lingerie that he bought for Bontle. Bontle saw a red wine bottle falling and breaking, and, as the bottle shattered, so did the heart of Killer. She tried to explain, stigmatizing Killer as a scapegoat for her nasty deed. Killer went on a rampage, and shot Sbu in the chest. There was so much blood on the bed.
Bontle was crying as she bitch slapped Killer.
“You killed him, you murderer. I curse the day I let you into my life. You killed Sbu. My first love. He was a better man than you. He never raised a hand to me. I was going to leave you for him. My Sbu!”
People were listening to the dispute between the lovers; busybodies listening for the latest scoop.
Killer, with tears in his eyes professed, “I loved you, woman. You were my moon, my star and my sun. I cannot accept having another guy move into my territory. I love you even now. You showed me what love is. It hurt to discover that you never loved me. I was the second prize all along. Love is a pain. I am in agony.”
Bontle cried as she kissed Killer. “I love you. You did show me love,” she said sobbing. Killer pushed her onto the bed. “But it was not enough for you.” He said fuming with rage.
He pointed a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. There was a blood stream and police came to the crime scene. Bontle was blamed for the death of the two men.
So ladies, it is not right to string guys along just because you are afraid of being alone. Bontle suffered dearly in the end. In the hood she was labelled as a whore who made guys murder each other. She was a laughing stock. Her parents were there for her but the damage was beyond repair. She could not live with herself knowing she was responsible for the death of two innocent souls, even though they were not entirely pure saints. In the end, Bontle hanged herself.
Tell us what you think: Why do you think people cheat?