I stopped breathing and waited for you to continue as scenes of what happened at MEYIWA’S COTTAGES suddenly flashed in my mind.
“Some fools in Pinetown hijacked and shot him dead,” you bit your lip. The tears you held back made your eyes glisten like your piercing.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ziyanda.” I placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to show sympathy for you when I was more relieved for myself.
For a moment, you seemed as if you were about to burst into tears, then you just wiped your arm across your teary eyes and sat up straight.
“It destroyed all three of us,” you said. “My mother spent most of her time sleeping, my brother drank a lot, and I sunk my head into books. But it wasn’t over.”
‘She’s not a bad person,’ I thought. ’She’s a broken person.’
“Four months after my dad passed away…” you continued. “My brother, Junior, was at Magaba Lounge, drinking late at night with his taxi driver friends. Junior’s best friend, Sbu, received a call from his neighbour, revealing the identity of the man who had been sneaking into his house and sleeping with the mother of his three kids, Lungi. Sbu got into his car and left Junior at Magaba Lounge. Seeing that Sbu was angry, Junior borrowed a friend’s car and followed him.”
‘No way,’ I thought, fear chilling my bones. ‘Please God, don’t let this be…’
You looked away and took a deep breath.
“This is harder than I thought,” you said. “Anyway… Sbu went to his house and beat up Lungi before taking his gun and leaving. He went to the suspect’s home and didn’t find him there because Lungi had called and told him to run. Junior caught up to Sbu and unsuccessfully tried to disarm him. Sbu finally found the suspect’s location, went in, with Junior behind him still trying to stop him, and—”
“I need to go,”
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Please, we’ll talk some other time.”
“What?” You were confused.
I reached over and opened your door from the inside. “Please, Ziyanda,” I placed my hand on your shoulder and nodded you out of the car.
“What’s going on, Njabulo?” You stepped out, and I drove off.
*****
Ziyanda, Mzwakhe was the suspect. Sbu kicked the door open and pointed his gun at us, looking for Mzwakhe. Seated on the crate beside the door, Mzwakhe raised his hand and turned off the lights in Vuyani’s room before wrestling Sbu with his gun. A few shots were fired, and everyone panicked. While I crawled in the darkness trying to get out of the room, the gun fell on top of my hand, and I took it.
Ziyanda, I knew everyone who was inside Vuyani’s room. So, when a stranger, Junior, tried to take the gun away from me, it was a drunk man’s reflex to do what I did. I fired several bullets, let go of the gun and ran like everyone else. Most of those bullets hit Junior and ended his life. A stray bullet hit Thandi on the back, damaged her spinal cord and put her in a wheelchair forever. I wasn’t arrested or questioned since everyone who was there didn’t know who pulled the trigger. I had gotten away… until God or the devil brought me to you.
God probably wants you to know that everything you did after you lost your brother wasn’t your fault. It was mine. If you’re the one who got Mzwakhe killed later that year, I’m to blame, Ziyanda.
The devil probably wants you to get me killed, too and continue feeling like a bad person.
I know that three years ago, I had a great moment with a woman I liked, and I destroyed her life. Three years later, it’s like deja vu. I deserve whatever happens to me, Ziyanda; I’m putting my life in your hands with this letter. But for your sake, I hope you choose to get me arrested and start healing.
Tell us: What would you do if you were Ziyanda, having received such news from someone you considered a potential boyfriend?
