For days I could hear voices, first it was Mantoa by my bedside crying.
“I don’t know what happened to you, to us! Now I’m trying to pay your hospital bill you don’t have any money in your account. What went wrong Sbu? We never got to worry about money, and now? I wish you could just wake up and tell me this is all a dream. I’ve just realised that you’ve been arrested, everything just doesn’t make sense. Today is Fentse’s birthday and she has been asking all morning if Daddy is gonna cut the cake with us and I just don’t know what to tell her.”
I wanted to respond to tell, her I’m sorry, ask her to pray for us to be strong for both of us and our children. But I couldn’t. My mouth refused to open but my mind was always awake at all times. I heard the doctor talking to my mother.
“You have to prepare yourselves for the worst Mama, he’s been in a coma for a while now.”
“I can’t give up on him, nkase lahlele ngwanaka matsogo. Don’t tell me to get prepared for the worst, he is my only son. Yooo Sbu ngwanaka, go rileng ka yena?”
“The fact that he won’t be able to walk is going to be difficult for him. But I think as a family you should support him every step of the way.”
I couldn’t believe it? Me? Sbusiso Mahlangu? Crippled? Was this God’s way of punishing me after everything I did to hurt others? I could feel tears in my eyes, although I couldn’t wipe them off. I could feel them on my cheeks and sometimes I could feel someone wiping them away. The day I woke up, someone had been crying beside me, but she never said a word to me. I opened my eyes, it was blurry around me. All I could hear were hospital machines beeping in a distance, and then big green eyes staring at me. She was dark, too dark for a South African lady, but her eyes, her eyes looked familiar. When she saw me open my eyes she quickly picked up her bag and left. When Mantoa finally came and found me awake she sobbed so hard that the doctor asked her to go out and get some air before she upsets me. When she came back her eyes where red and she had lost weight too.
“Sbu! I never thought I’d ever see you awake. Four whole months? I just can’t believe it.” Tears flooded her eyes. “Filwe and Fentse keep asking about you.”
No matter how much I tried stopping them, tears flew down my cheeks. I had failed my family; my wife and kids, because of a woman. What if I died that night? What was I thinking? Four whole months in a coma? It was just all too much to bear.
The following day my mother arrived with my little sister and my aunt. They looked very happy to see me awake but in my mother’s eyes I could see something was bothering her.
“Sbusiso ngwanaka, you nearly gave us all a heart attack.”
“Mama, it’s good to see you.”
“Oh ngwanaka, pelo yaka e rotha madi ka taba ya gore mosadi wa gago a rekishe ntlo asa re tsebishe?”
“Ntlo? Ntlo e feng?”
“Ge ele kua gona wa tla wa palelwa ke go nyala ke a go botsa,” my Aunty said. “Ngwanenyana wa mopedi wa hloka mekgwa jwale? Dira o fole ngwana sesi otle ojo mo tsencha tseleng.
“Sbusiso, I always told you to marry a Zulu girl, a Zulu girl who’ll respect and love you eseng ola Mantoa man. My mom said with anger.
“Mama, Mmane Sbu osatso tsoga there is no need to burden him with all this problems.” Tshego, my sister reasoned. “Le gona Mama. Just because Papa was Zulu doesn’t mean Sbu has to marry a Zulu girl.
“O bolela nnete ngwanaka, o ntshwarele Papa! Se sengwe se nka ratang gore o Sbu ase tsebe ke gore otlare go tswa mo, aye go dula le o Matlakala, KZN is too far he can’t go there.”
“Why? I have my own house,” They all looked at each other and kept quiet. “Mama ntlo yaka ya rekishwa jwang?
“That can only be answered by your wife.”
I felt my heart beating faster than ever before. Machines started giving warning signs and the doctor and nurses quickly rushed to my room and asked them to leave. After a shot of injection I felt sleepy, but it was too difficult to sleep knowing that I only had M.M Attorneys shares to my name. I had no house, I had no money in my account; I was just a Nobody. I failed to understand how Mantoa could act so stupid. Did she think I’ll die? Is that what she wanted, for me to die?
A few days after I woke up I was discharged from the hospital. To make matters worse my mother and Aunt Matlakala weren’t in a car. I asked them to call Mantoa and they said she was not picking up her phone. Getting in a taxi with that wheelchair was a nightmare. People stared, some gossiped. Some woman laughed straight in my face and asked me what happened to Mr Lawyer who always told everyone he was untouchable. When we got to Aunt Matlakala’s place, after being wheeled in the sun, she took me to a shack outside. There was a single bed that looked a hundred years old, a small TV with no aerial and a vegetable rack. The blankets smelled of urine even before I could go close to the bed. On the floor there were spider webs and dust everywhere.
“Sbu ngwanaka,” Aunt Matlakala turned to me, “otla robala ka mo, ebe ele kamora ya malome wa gago Mishaka jwale ke mo kgopeletse gore a go shutelele.”
I couldn’t believe what my eyes were showing me, nor my ears hearing. I was going to sleep in this shack? This woman had better be kidding me!
***
Tell us what you think: Do you think Sbu deserves what he is getting?