In the late evening a 20C Benz parked outside Khafu’s mansion. A business lady in her mid-thirties came out wearing shades and rushed to the gates to avoiding being seen. Khazi welcomed her in as she explained that Zakwe invited her for sangoma consultation. The business lady left her shoes at the door and got inside the work office to meet Khafu. Zakwe advised Khafu to wear brown dreadlocks, smoke dagga and burn herbs during consultations to make him look like a real sangoma and not a witch.

“Sit there!” Khafu directed the patient with a cow tail at hand.

“Makhosi!” Busi greeted him by a clap of hands.

“Don’t call me that, just name your problem!”

“My husband is planning on divorcing me and wants the house. My lawyer said he has a good chance of winning, now I want him dead!” she said.

“Drink this cup!” he gave her one of the brown bottles. “It will help you appear like a sad and innocent wife. Today your husband won’t make it home. Before the weekend, send the R15 000 to my account and don’t make me send my creatures,” he said.

Busi agreed and went out. That night her husband took his colleague and mistress to KFC for dinner. Making their way back, Busi’s husband saw black owls flying against his windscreen. He turned the wipers on but they were broken. He could not see the road ahead, so the car took a hit behind a stationary truck.

Khafu got the R15 000 but the credit card was kept by his wife Khazi. She spent the night out with her friends and came home drunk. Zakwe and Khafu were waiting on her.

“Oops I’m a little tippy guys forgive me!” she battled throughout the kitchen door.

“We got the message, the money came in,” Zakwe said with his arms folded.

“I lost my mother’s house, so I needed something strong to drink. Wake me in the morning!” she took off and left both men starring at each other.

Busi came back on the weekend to see Khafu. She came with her celebrity friend, Kelly, driving a Porsche.

“My friend’s husband is dead, and his dad is bothering us claiming miss K got him shot. We need the police to find him guilty for the case because this is affecting my friend’s career,” Busi said

“That will be half a million,”

“How do we know if all will go accordingly?” they were both unsure of Khafu.

“I’ll send my creatures to the old man,” Khafu hit his cow tail against his shoulders as she drank the brown bottle.

Month end, Khafu bought his wife a new black Rand Rover Sport, cash. Zakwe got himself a red 325i BMW and Khafu was still happy with his vintage black hearse. Most old people visited Khafu in wheel chairs and walked out on foot happy. As months went by, the queue towards Khafu’s mansion created traffic across the township. Zakwe rode his gusheshe making sure his thugs kept the line organised while counting cash in a smoke.

Street vendors came to sell fruits and cigarettes at the pavement as people travelled far with buses to see Khafu. His wife was now a spoiled brat, shopping everyday with her friends, who also quit their day jobs. At nine p.m. Khafu closed his consultation doors. Those who were desperate slept outside his house, spaza shops were now opened across his street.

Zakwe sat on the table with his thugs counting cash bags smoking weed. Khafu came out with a towel after a hot bath to join the crew.

“How did we do today?” he asked Zakwe.

“R 81 000 in paper, R34 000 in the bank,” he said with his hands full.

“Pay yourself thirty percent and give the rest to your sister,” he then took off

“Hey, wait up bro,” Zakwe stepped up to Khafu. “I know everything is going well and I’m not complaining, but me and my boys need more than just making money. We need a talent,” he said shifting his YCMB cap and his 24 gold chains clanking on his chest.

“Okay and what talent could that be?” he asked Zakwe as his thugs sat up to listen.

“We wanna start rapping. I want to represent my town like Drake and Toronto,” he said.

“Alright, just do your thing and people will love it,” he got a gangster hug from Zakwe.

Khazi was waiting for her man in sexy lingerie; Khafu switched off the lights and made love to her all night. In the morning Khafu sat on the edge of the bed thinking hard about his relationship with Khazi.

“I’m pregnant!” Khazi said as she held on to her pillow. “And I’m keeping it,” she said.

“But we said no children before mirage,”

“We also said no sex before mirage, we said a lot of things,”

“You know that I love you, right?” he played with a small box in his hand.

“And you know I love you too, right?” seductively, she crawled to his back.

“Why don’t we get this over with then?” Khafu got up, opening the small box. “Khazi, would you like to marry me?”