“Pack your clothes, right now!” Nancy shouts.

Sandile’s bags are already packed, but he goes to the bedroom and pretends to pack. He can hear Nancy and Naidoo discussing the situation in the lounge. He wishes the windows didn’t have burglar guards so he could jump out and run for his life.

He is bundled into Nancy’s SUV. Naidoo sits in the back seat. Nancy drives; Sandile is in the passenger seat.

“Don’t try anything funny,” Naidoo says and waves a gun in Sandile’s face.

Sandile is scared out of his mind on the drive down to Pietermaritzburg. Naidoo and Nancy are unpredictable. He worries they might change their plans, kill him, or hand him over to the police and he will become this human flesh for this muthi that is in such high demand. He sits motionless for the five hours it takes to get to his home. Now he realises where Nancy gets her money from and it makes him sick.

They arrive at midnight. In the car, before entering the house, Nancy gives Sandile a backpack. Inside the backpack there is a double edged panga, a balaclava and gloves.

Naidoo hands Sandile R2000 rand. “Your family must think that you were working in Johannesburg. Also use some of this money to call us. I know where you live, Sandile. So if you try anything funny I will come back and kill your whole family,” says Naidoo.

Naidoo is next to Sandile as he knocks on the door, and enters with him. Sandile’s mother and Xolile are ecstatic at this surprise. They hug Sandile.

“I am sorry for keeping him away from the family for so long. We had a lot of work to do, Mama,” Naidoo says. “Work is not so much now. I will call him when more work comes.”

Naidoo takes out a bundle of money. He counts to R1000 and hands it to Sandile’s mother. “Because your son is so well behaved and such a good worker, Mama, here is something for you.”

“Thank you so much,” says Sandile’s mom gratefully.

Naidoo and Nancy leave and Sandile heads straight to his bedroom. His mom and Xolile see that he is not jovial, but they dismiss it as him being tired from the long drive from Johannesburg.

In the bedroom Xolile picks up their newborn baby and hands him to Sandile. “He has your eyes,” says Xolile.

Sandile just nods, and his eyes fill up with tears. Xolile believes Sandile is overcome by overwhelming joy. She takes the baby to sleep with Sandile’s mom and comes eagerly back to the bedroom to find Sandile already under the covers in bed. She snuggles next to him.

“I’m sorry, Sandile, for always shouting at you on the phone. I thought you had found another girlfriend in Johannesburg. I thought you had forgotten about–”

“I’m tired, Xolile. Can we talk in the morning? I just need to rest.”

His reaction to Xolile is unusual. Sandile had never been this dismissive to her. But the joy of seeing her man back causes Xolile to overlook this behaviour.

“What will you name your baby boy?” asks Xolile.

“Haven’t you named him yet?” The irritation in Sandile’s voice can not be disguised.

“No, Sandile. I was waiting for you to name him,” says Xolile, hurt. “That honour is yours, as his father.”

“You want me to name him?” Sandile shouts. “You want me to give him a name? Well here it is. His name is Mfan’uzodlani (What will the boy eat)! Now leave me alone, let me sleep!”

Xolile holds back tears in the darkness. She has never seen Sandile act like this before.

***

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