It was already seven-thirty in the afternoon, but he had no idea how to break the news to her family because he was still in shock himself. He needed a friend, someone to hold his hand through times like this, then it hit him: he had no friends, and all he ever did besides being home was work. He realized he was a workaholic, having no one to call, and the only friends he had were colleagues, guys who he only shared work-related issues with over a couple of beers. Sensitive matters regarding their families were never part of their topics after work. They were too busy competing to be the alpha male and being sensitive was not part of being an alpha.

He also realized that he’d never really had a conversation that lasted more than a minute with either one of Vuyelwa’s parents because he never had to. The longest talk they’d ever had was the usual, ”Molweni, ninjani ekhaya? Ukhona na uVuyelwa?” then whoever was there at that moment would call her for him and that what was it. He was a bit shy and respectful towards her parents, and it made him scared being around them, so he’d never really gotten used to them. Now here he was having to deliver this heartbreaking news.

It had been over two years since the last time he saw her parents, but this was one of those things he just could not ignore till it blew over. The phone rang on the other end of the line

”Hello, hello….hello!” It was her mother answering his call.

He tried to speak, but his voice seemed to have disappeared, so she dropped the call.

She loved uVuyelwa with all her heart as any mother would. She was a strong woman, but at the end of the day she was still a mother, and he just was not ready to tell her that her child had died on the day she gave birth to her. How does one feel a year from today, what will this day remind her of? Her daughter’s birthday or the day she passed on? He called the head of the house instead, her father. He would know how to pass on such sensitive news to the family at large.

”Hello sir, I am afraid I have some disturbing news. Please ndicela uhlal’ephantsi apho ukhoyo,” he started from the beginning, from the engagement ring to the part where he had to say, ”Uxolo, she did not make it.”

The call ended exactly after saying those words. He retired backwards on the bed with his feet on the floor, then he closed his eyes for one second. Next thing he heard was his alarm going off, he slept right through the night. It was morning already and he was still in the very same towel he came out of the shower with.

The house was silent and cold. Everything he did echoed, and for the first time he understood how she felt when she was all alone every day of the week. He had been through a lot in his life; he had lost both his parents at the age of seventeen years, just after grade twelve, and he’d had to sleep in the streets when he went for registrations at university. He knew struggle, but this, this was something he had never felt before.

Pain so unbearable it made physical trauma desirable, like ice cream on the beach. He could not think about the funeral, for he knew that day would be the saddest, most painful day of his life – at least so he thought. He was never a funeral person and not so good with goodbyes because, even if he tried to be strong, the atmosphere at a funeral just made him hate funerals with everyone crying and mourning with their all-black uniforms.

This is life, he thought. He never understood what that had meant until now that he was in pain instead of being happy for the one he lost, for she was at peace and out of a world filled with horror and pain. But he had to be there, he knew her more than anyone else and had to say farewell, had to try to let her go and let her be.

He tried to write the eulogy, but his brain froze and all he could come up with was, ”My love….” so he decided to let his emotions guide him, help him express himself from his heart by taking that pain and turning it into a tool he could use instead of drowning in his sorrows.

”I never thought this day would come, the day that I had to say ‘goodbye’ instead of ‘see you later’. Like the virgin of Israel had fallen, so have you, you shall never rise again, my love.

“There is no one to raise you up, if only you had a chance to stay for at least ten days like Rebekah’s family had begged in the holy book, I have so much I need you to hear, to tell you thank you for showing me what unconditional love is, but the servant of Abraham has come to take you away to meet your creator for the time is here.

“While man was asleep God took a rib from him and created him a companion, someone to share and enjoy the fruits of life with, and now you are gone, my companion is gone. Who shall I share and enjoy the fruits of this life with? Vuyelwa sthandwasam! I will always miss you, you shall forever be part of me. Take care of the one unknown to sin, never introduced to life but to the afterlife. Love Thanduxolo.”

He knew his life had changed forever, but he just could not forgive himself for wasting thirteen years of someone’s life to die unmarried. He wanted to marry her, but time would not let him, as her clock had stopped ticking. He was going to marry her anyway he told himself, he owed her that much.

Having his uncles agree to pay ilobola for her was the struggle, ”Thirteen cows for the death? Uphambene kwedin,” they told him.

But this had to be done, it was like a loan he just had to pay back. Eventually they agreed and the ceremony went forth, and he thought life would be much better after doing that. He thought not marrying her for all this years haunted him and ilobola would make up for that, but he was wrong, as his first night back home was the coldest, longest and loneliest night of his life. He realized the lack of her presence was what was haunting him.

Tell us: What do you think about him marrying her after her death?