The people of Udongo village have been up and down since the week began. The news started spreading that Buhle Mbangeni, daughter of Ezrom Mbangeni and ex-girlfriend to Sizwe Mpe, has had her hand asked in marriage. It has been years since anyone in the village has gotten married and the villagers were certain that they are cursed. But the arrival of this new man has sent a frenzy throughout Udongo.

For Sizwe, on the other hand, the arrival of this new man opened up a wound he thought had healed. It was only a year ago when Buhle decided to end their relationship of six years. And when she said that she wanted a more ‘mature’ man, little did Sizwe know that she meant someone much older and probably wiser than he is.

Ever since the news of the marriage reached him, Sizwe’s emotions have been playing games with him. He goes from sad to happy, furious and confused in the blink of an eye, to such an extent that his family fears that he might harm himself. Thus, they have decided collectively as a family that they will not be attending the negotiations this coming weekend, as a form of support for their dear child.

The day arrives at last and in no time, the village has gone empty and everyone is gathered at the ceremony. Sizwe and Khali arrive a little bit later than everyone else, looking dapper in their black beaded neck pieces and beaded headgear, as if the ceremony is of significance to them.

“I hear that the man’s name is Ngozi,” Sizwe says, taking a peak at the group of men gathered outside the hut where he spots the tall, dark and sadistic looking groom-to-be. “They also mentioned that he’s a building of a man,” he continues.

“But they never mentioned that he is darker than the night,” an amazed Khali adds.

The two men stand behind one of the huts in silence and begin to wonder how they would dare seek vengeance in a place filled with so many well-built men who are twice, maybe thrice, their size. Then the light bulb goes on, and it hits them.

“We might not be able to attack Ngozi and Buhle individually,” says Sizwe. “But we can spoil the celebrations,” he continues and smirks.

Knowing well that asking questions will be of no help to him, Khali follows a now enthusiastic Sizwe. They manage to go past the group of women cooking and humming happy songs, past children playing, without raising suspicion at all. They blend in with the handsome young men in attendance and catch the eyes of some of the young ladies. Yet not one seems suspicious of the two.

They make their way to a hut in the backyard, far from the celebrations where the traditional beer has been kept to rise overnight and now await to begin the festivities. It lies in a large yellow bucket in the middle of the room and next to it a brown calabash the size of two hands opened into a sprouting flower.

“Please tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re going to do,” says Khali, voice trembling. Sizwe smirks and grabs the bucket, it’s heavy, but he manages.

“What is a party without beer?” Sizwe asks and heads towards the door.

“It’s not a party,” Khali continues and out he goes.

“Bring the calabash,” he directs Khali and out with the wind they run, out of sight, with no one ever remembering their attendance.

***

Tell us: What do you think Sizwe and Khali will do with the calabash?