One hour later, my parents walk in looking worried.
“We came as soon as possible son, what’s wrong?” asks my father.
“I always thought that you loved me but I was wrong,” I say, as I sip my vodka.
“You called me here to disrespect me?” My father’s face turns red.
“Hlisa umoya tata, calm down. Mandla, what’s wrong?” says mom, calmly as always.
“You traded me, you made me marry a mad woman!” I point at them.
“Stop speaking in riddles!” shouts my father.
“You made me dump my beautiful Amahle and forced me to marry Nandipha Maxeke! Poor Amahle had to leave this country because she couldn’t stand seeing me with another woman!” I scream my lungs out, staring at the window.
“I told you that it was a bad idea coming here,” says my father. He turns and walks away.
“Your daughter in-law has gone mad!”
“Uthini na kum? What are you saying?” my mother asks, astonished.
“Go check for yourselves.” I take another sip from my vodka as they leave.
“Mandla, we need to take her to a mental institution. Have you called the psychologist?” asks my mother.
“She’s been on depression and anxiety medication for years now and nothing has changed,” I respond.
“You’ve been going through a lot, son,” says my mother.
“Pack her bags, Thandiswa, we are taking her back to her family. They will bring my lobola back,” my father commands.
“That’s all you care about, Jongile – money!” I yell at my father.
“Did you just call me by my name?” He tries to punch me.
“Let’s all calm down, I will go pack her bags.” My mother walks out, leaving me with my father.
***
It’s been two days without Nandi. To be honest, I miss her, although she was not emotionally present.
“It’s obvious that you have fallen for her,” says Doris, as she washes dishes.
“I’m a horrible husband, Doris. I knew that I could save Nandi but I chose to send her away. She didn’t ask for this,” I confess. I’m drowning myself in beer.
“You tried to help, sir,” Doris comforts me.
“Oh don’t try to make me feel better. I’m horrible just like my parents and the Maxeke family.” I push back tears.
“Have you visited her?” asks Doris.
“No, I’m sure she hates me. Nandi and I grew up together. We went to the same schools and varsity. She was about to start her practicals at Robert Sobukwe Hospital when she was forced to marry me. We had to forget about our partners and marry each other. Apparently a pastor’s son has to marry another pastor’s daughter. It was worse in Nandi’s case because Rajesh, her boyfriend, was Hindu.” I pour down more beer.
“Why don’t you fetch her and try to make this work?” asks Doris.
“You know what? You are right! I’m going to fetch my wife.” I take my car keys and bash my way out.
“You can’t drive in this state, I’d rather request an Uber for you.” Dorris takes out her phone.
***
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