When I came back, I gave Uncle Seun his bottle of ice-cold mineral water, the kind he preferred.

“Yizo boy,” said Uncle Seun as he extended his right arm and took the water bottle from my hand. Mtho and I watched as he took a sip. He shivered a little as he gulped down the water.

“Bafana bami,” he said as he closed the lid on the water bottle, “die is lekker water, niyabona manje sengi grand, baie lekker!” We all chuckled.

“Now, back to the story,” he said, smiling. “I called and checked in with Pappa as instructed. We were on the outskirts of Bloemfontein. We had to drop the ladies there on our way to Cape Town, Mphumuzi’s final destination. After that, I would head back home.

“I thought, boy! this is going to be one hell of a ride! And boy, was I correct! We made out and smoked with the ladies. While I was driving I had Tracey rubbing against my lap with her miniskirt. And Stacey-Lee, OMG! She was caressing my chest and neck. Only the gods know what Mphumuzi was up to in the back of the limo …” Uncle Seun laughed and shook his head again.

“I couldn’t see into the back; the marijuana smoke had engulfed the inside of the limo. The first thing we did when we arrived in Bloemfontein, was stop at a Chicken Licken because it’s damn good. Besides, Mphumuzi could get complimentary meals from any Chicken Licken outlet in Africa, since he made those TV ads back in the 80s alongside Joe Mafela. The staff at the restaurant fell over their feet to serve us. It’s actually ncaa to bring ladies to a place where people worship the ground you walk on, it makes you look distinguished and accomplished. You got that?”

We nodded our heads, looked deep into his greyish eyes. “Yes Sir!”

“While eating, the ladies complained about how full their bellies were. Mphumuzi suggested we finish our meal and ‘make a stop real quick’ at his cousin’s house in Thaba ’Nchu before dropping off the women.”

I looked up at Uncle Seun and grinned. ”Another stop? Real quick? This sounds familiar,” I said.

Uncle Seun grinned and shook his head. “Asazi Chris yaz’, asazi. When we arrived in Thaba ’Nchu, we went straight to Mphumuzi Myeni’s cousin, Motswako. Actually his name was Neo Mosala and boy, can that bra roll up a doobie. But that’s nothing compared to his musical genius. Motswako was an inherent part of the movement that introduced the independent art of spinning records in South Africa that eventually spread all over the continent.”

I got excited and jumped up. “Tjo, malume uMotswako yiboza!” I gasped. ”I wish I could meet him. From what you’re saying, he is my people too.”

Uncle Seun just smiled his Adam Sandler smile again and ruffled my afro. “Yeah, I know my boy and I believe you will meet him. If not now, perhaps in your next life.”

“Ha Malume, nami ngiyafisa ukumazi! (Uncle, I too wish to meet him!)” Mtho added.

I quietly retreated to the cold porch floor, grinning from ear to ear.

“We had our fun with Motswako, he even gave us some show and tell. We were all grateful for his hospitality. So grateful, that when we told Motswako we were leaving, the ladies decided to stay. ‘Hey Seun, um, it’s fine if you leave us here with Motswako, we’ll find our way from here. And please be a sweetheart and leave our bags on the driveway? Thanks darling, cheers!’ – Tracey’s words not mine.

“As Mphumuzi Myeni and I went back to the limo, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, as heavy as lead. I was heartbroken. These women who I thought were angels sent to me by the Lord Almighty had turned around and acted like hood rats!”

“Malume kanti bahlala vaar naka Motswako? (Uncle, were the girls too far from where they were headed from Motswako’s?)” I asked curiously.

He looked at me with an ominous grin and shook his head. “Nah bra, they stayed right around the corner!” I could sense the sarcasm in his tone, so I figured I must have missed something.

“Sowu grand boy? Uphendulekile?” Uncle Seun asked.

“Sho ngi grand!” I said with a half-smile.

“Okay then. Mphumuzi saw that I was hurt by the women’s behaviour. He pulled me to the side ‘Seun luister vir my. Love, true love is when a soul recognizes its counterpart in another. Now, do you reckon that’s what happened here between you and Tracey and Stacey-Lee or do you reckon it was infatuation?’

“I turned to him with a relieved smile. ‘Infatuation, definitely!’ With that settled, we climbed into the limo and continued our drive to Cape Town.”

Tell us: What is your favourite kind of music? Why?