About a week after the funeral, Zamo went to pay her respects at S’khumba’s home. She felt that it was only right to look into his parents’ eyes and show them that their son meant something to her, regardless of his shortcomings.

As she approached the family’s homestead, she noticed a number of cars heading in the same direction. She was walking at a steady pace and had a lot of time to think. She was thinking about work, Peello and just life in general. What did she want out of it? Was she ready to free fall into love and life?

While she was interrogating herself, her cellphone rang. It was Samke.

“Hi friend, how are you feeling? Again, I’m very sorry about S’khumba.” Samke’s voice was very soft.
“Hey, hey girl! Oh I’m fine. Thanks! I cried a good five liter bucket yesterday and I guess that helped. Well, a bit. I came here looking for closure and the bugger had to go and get killed!” Zamo answered in a slightly miffed tone.

Samke was very understanding and knew that her friend needed a listening ear. No judgments.

“I get it, but it wasn’t his fault. His time had come. Just like yours and mine will one day. Try not to think too deeply about the whole situation. There’s nothing you can do except focus on the present and future. He’s gone and will never come back. So, grieve for him and move forward with your life. You have a wonderful man waiting for you back here.”

Zamo, feeling a tiny bit encouraged but impatient, replied, “Yes, I know but that’s the whole point! I can’t move on with my life without telling him how I felt back then and still feel right now. This feeling has built a wall so thick and high up to the heavens. Try as I might, I can’t seem to open up to other men!”

Her friend suggested that she write him a very honest letter, telling him how she felt, and still feels, about his betrayal. After sealing it in an envelope, she must visit his grave, place the letter directly on top of the grave and cover it with some dirt. This would be a symbolic act of finally letting go.

Zamo thought about it for a minute. She suddenly lit up. The penny seemed to drop. “My friend, you’re so wise! What would I do without you? Hey, I didn’t even ask how you’re keeping. So, how are you?”

“Gosh, I thought you would never ask!” she chuckled a bit. “I’m doing fine thank you! Especially now that I know you’re feeling better.”

Her friend chuckled a little too. “I’m sorry. I just got caught up in my feelings. A bit selfish I know and I’m sorry. Listen, I’ve arrived at the Nkwanyambe homestead and we have to hang up. I can’t be seen to be disrespecting the elders at their home. Chat to you soon okay?”

“Wait! When are you coming back? Peello has been stressing me out asking about you day in and day out. Why haven’t you been taking his calls?” asked Samke.

“Well, no particular reason wethu. It’s just paranoia, I guess. I need to sort out my mind and emotions. I want to be a 100% present in every intimate relationship going forward, you know? I would be a great disservice to myself and any man, especially loverboy, if I didn’t. Please tell him I’m thinking about him and I’ll make it up to him as soon as I come back which will be the day after tomorrow. Okay?”

“Cool dear. I’ll see you soon okay? Call me before you board the bus ne? You will be travelling by bus, right?”

Zamo shrieked with laughter, “Of course! My home is in a village, remember? Lol! I’ll call before I board.”

“Alright then, sakuphinda sithethe ke tshom’am (we’ll speak again, my friend). I’ll pass on the message to loverboy. Bye chommie!”

Zamo was smiling at the thought of seeing Peello again and said goodbye to Samke, pressing the “end call” button.

The homestead was packed with fancy and not-so-fancy cars. These were the same cars she had noticed while she was walking to the homestead. She felt a little bit intimidated and wondered whether she would be welcome since she hadn’t kept in contact for years. As she was about to turn around, S’khumba’s sister, Nozizwe, called out to her. “Hey Zamo! How are you? Fancy a city girl coming all this way to the bundus. Come inside, it’s been such a long time! What is it? Five years? Come this way. My mom and dad will be so happy to see you!”

Zamo, ‘the city girl’, felt encouraged and walked into the visitors’ rondavel, where MamBhele was sitting on a reed mat, in full mourning regalia. Zamo greeted her ex-boyfriend’s mother in a very soft, shy voice. “Molweni mama. Ninjani namhlanje?” (Hello mama, how are you today?)

Nozizwe touched her mother lightly on the shoulder which caused the old lady to look up, her eyes looking misty with tears. Her pupils were a deep dark brown colour and looked very sad.

“Mama, uyamkhumbula uNomzamo andithi? Uhlala ngaphaya komlambo, pha kwa Mazibuko.” (Do you remember Nomzamo? She stays across the river at the Mazibuko’s homestead) she said gently.

MamBhele tried to focus her eyes in the dimly lit room and finally recognized Zamo. “Oh ndiyamkhumbula. Itshomi ka nyan’am anditsho? Khona, uphi yena? Usayokunqanda iinkomo ntomb’am? Makabuye kaloku. Kuhlwile ngoku.” (Oh, I remember. She’s a friend of my son’s, right? Where is he? Has he gone to herd the cattle? He should come back now, it’s getting late.)

Zamo and Nozizwe looked at each other. “Bhelekazi, ingathi unxaniwe nje. Unjani iti?” (Bhelekazi, you look thirsty. How about some tea?)

“Oh ndingayivuyela lonto mntwan’am. Uze ubeke nalawa maqebengwana azis’we ngu Nonceba.” (I would love that, my child. Please add the biscuits brought by Nonceba) said MamBhele. She turned to Zamo, “Wena ungubani?” (And who are you?)

***

Tell us what you think: Do you think Mambhele is in shock or has she lost her mind? How would the family cope?