“Sizwe! Sizwe!” My father shouted.
Before responding, I frowned and dragged myself out of bed. “Coming baba!” I shouted, running to the lounge. But when I reached the stairs, I froze because my father was with someone.
“Ah, my son, meet your uncle, uncle Shokwakhe,” my father said, beaming with pride with his hand around Uncle Shokwakhe’s neck.
“Uncle?” I asked. “I thought I’d met all my uncle’s, baba.”
While looking at uncle Shokwakhe, I wondered how it was that I could have a hunk like him for an uncle. He sure looked yummy! Yes, I’m gay.
“Well, this man here is my childhood best friend,” my father said, smiling at me. “I last saw him when I graduated.”
“But baba, he looks way younger than you,” I responded, scanning Shokwakhe.
“He’s six years younger than me,” my father said, and they both laughed. “Well, don’t just stand there! Come greet your uncle,” he continued.
After my father spoke, I walked down the stairs. I was wearing a deep V neck t-shirt, and a pair of black skinny jean. I had bangles on both my hands, and a beautiful heart shaped chain around my neck. As I was walking down the stairs, my eyes are locked on to Shokwakhe, and I had never seen such an overload of beauty in my life before.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I went in for a handshake because I knew that most men did not like being hugged by other men. But, instead of shaking my hand, Shokwakhe pulled me in for a warm hug. His strong arms wrapped around me, and he placed one hand on my waist, and the other on the back of my head. I almost did not want him to pull back.
“You’ve raised a handsome young man, brother,” Sokwakhe said, smiling and patting my head. He was taller than both my father and I.
“But he won’t bring a wife,” my father said, laughing. “Instead, he’ll soon be someone’s wife.”
“Baba!” I scream, then pouted.
“What? It’s true, son,” my father responded, then he hugged me. I looked at him and smiled, and Shokwakhe looked at us.
“It’s good to see parents accepting their kids for what they are,” Shokwakhe said with a smile.
“I love my son,” my father said while nodding, then he kissed my forehead and we all laughed.
“Grandma said you have three kids, where are the others?” Shokwakhe asked.
“My daughter is out shopping with my wife, and my youngest son is out playing soccer,” my father responded.
Shokwakhe nodded before responding. “I need to leave,” he finally said, glancing at his watch.
“I thought you’d stay and meet the wife and kids,” my father said.
“Some other time, brother,” Shokwakhe responded while smiling.
“Even if it’s for just one cold beer,” my father quickly said, and Shokwakhe agreed. “Sizwe, warm something up for me and your uncle,” my father said to me.
After a while, I served my father and Shokwakhe the leftover lasagne from the night before while they sat and watched soccer.
“Boy, bring us two beers,” my father said, and I ran to the kitchen. When I came back, I handed one beer to my father and the other to Shokwakhe, and he gazed into my eyes before accepting the beer.
“Thank you,” Shokwakhe said, smiling, and I nodded in response and walked away.
Tell us: Do you think it would be ethical for Sizwe to pursue a relationship with his father’s friend?