“I am just glad he’s finally decided to introduce us to our future makoti. That’s all that matters to me, baba. We are not getting any younger. I can’t die without seeing my son’s makoti,” says a joyful MaNkosi.
“I still believe he should marry Khambule’s daughter. That girl has so much respect. She is beautiful and understands the ways of our people,” says Mr Nkosi.
“Baba, Khambule’s daughter is not educated. She didn’t even pass her matric. Our son is going to be a lawyer!”
“So what if he is going to be a lawyer?”
“He can’t marry an uneducated woman!”
“MaNkosi! What does education have to do with being a good wife? Will education cook, clean and give us grandchildren? Don’t be naïve, MaNkosi,” Mr Nkosi says, with an air of irritation.
“But baba, Sabelo must have a wife who is on his level. A wife who can speak English like he can. A wife who will work in big offices like he will!”
“If he takes a wife who can speak English, a wife who will work in big offices, who will look after this home, MaNkosi? You can be very stupid sometimes, my wife.”
“They will hire a domestic worker, baba. We can finally be like those rich white people. Imagine having someone working for us! Imagine how jealous our neighbours will be,” says MaNkosi, a proud smile on her face.
“Mxm! Just make me some tea and stop talking nonsense, MaNkosi,” says an irritated Mr Nkosi.
“Ay nawe baba with your tea! It’s the fourth time I am making tea for you, and it’s not even midday yet,” says MaNkosi, clapping her hands once.
“It’s your job. Anyway, I am happy our boy is not like Zungu’s disgrace of a son.”
“The gay one?”
“Yes, that disgraceful child! If he was my son I would have killed him with my own hands!”
“Ayi baba! Children these days have rights you know. They do what they want with their lives.”
“In my house there is no space for stupid rights, MaNkosi.”
***
“Sabelo, I still think this is a bad idea. Your parents won’t accept me. I would really hate to be embarassed.”
“My love, leave my parents to me. Stop stressing!”
“Sabelo, your parents are conservative. They won’t accept this, me, us! Tell them who you are first!”
“Love, we are going home on Friday. We will do this together. Nothing bad will happen, no one will die. In fact, if they don’t approve of our relationship, I will leave home. By the way, let me call my mother to confirm that we are coming,” says Sabelo, dialing his mother’s number.
MaNkosi is busy folding washing when her phone rings. She pulls it out of her bra and jumps up with joy before answering.
“Hello my son! How are you?”
“I am well, ma, how are you and dad doing?”
“We are fine. We just can’t wait to see our makoti!”
“Be patient, ma! Friday is just around the corner!”
“I just wish it was Friday already!”
“Mmmmm…ma. What if you and dad don’t like the makoti I am bringing? What will happen to all that excitement?”
“I am sure we will like her, my son, you won’t bring us an ugly duckling when you are so cute!”
“I hear you, ma,” says Sabelo, his voice giving away an air of doubt.
“Is everything OK, Sabelo? Don’t tell me you are having second thoughts.”
“Everything is fine, ma, I just hope all will go well on Friday. I have to go now, pass my greetings to dad. Bye!”
“Bye my son, pass my greetings to umakoti.”
***
Tell us: Who do you think the makoti will be? Motivate your answer