I’m sitting here in tears, my heart pounding as if it wants to climb out of my chest. My hands are cramping from the big blow I delivered to his head. My legs are filled with fear, so much that it could carry me from Cape to Cairo to get away from this moment. I watch the love of my life, my brother’s wife, weep at the sight of blood coming from her husband’s head, his eyes wide open and teary as if he is going to ask for help. He is lying there dead; a price as great as the love I have for his wife.
I was 20 years old when I first laid my eyes on her. Nomtha, as she was fondly known on the campus of Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University. Nomthawelanga. She was what her name suggested – ray of sunshine. She had round clear white eyes, her innocence and kindness was written in them. She was beautiful; short, with brown skin, and an Afro she didn’t want anyone touching.
One Friday, she was walking into the library and I was walking out. I looked at her, in awe of such beauty and she knew I was looking at her. She looked at me and smiled, the most beautiful smile, with big white teeth. My heart skipped a beat and I knew then and there I had to talk to her. I approached her.
“Hi,” I said with a breaking voice.
“Molo bhuti,” she replied and the way she spoke was inviting so I went on.
“I don’t mean to intrude or to be weird or anything, you’re really beautiful…”
“Let me guess and you want to get to know me better blah blah blah,” she cut me off.
Suddenly I thought I must have misread her and I was shocked. My face couldn’t hide it.
She giggled, “I’m just joking. ndinguNomtha,”
I was relieved to hear that.
“I’m Luphelo, I almost died there. Bad joke, and you’re right I do want to get to know you better,” I said with a sigh.
She smiled. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you can’t,” she paused and looked at me with a straight face, and I wanted to bury myself because I should have known better. She was way out of my league. She continued, giggling, “Because I’ve got to finish my assignment bhuti.”
She gave me her number. I loved her from that first interaction, her sense of humour was amazing, even if it was at my expense. Our first encounter was a rollercoaster, well at least for me.
Tell us: Have you ever approached someone you’d never met before to tell them that you liked them?