The following week was busy for Busi. She had been working so hard, throwing herself into leading the project with her fellow interns. But it wasn’t going as she had expected. The guys were still awful towards her, second-guessing her at every turn, making her feel incompetent.
“You only got this role because you’re a girl,” one of them said. “The company wants to appear supportive and meet the quota.”
“I worked just as hard as you did to get here, nobody did me any favours,” Busi fought back.
“Yeah. And what nameless college did you graduate from again?”
“You don’t belong here. Quit already or we’ll make your life a living hell.”
The jokes had turned into threats and Busi had to deal with them, daily. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. But what were her options, really?
She struggled to finalise the project, which was due for submission the following week. She didn’t know which ideas from the other interns to accept and which to reject. This made them hate her even more and it completely stripped her of the ‘team-player’ colours she had proudly come to wear.
Maybe they were right and she wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe she would be better off just quitting. But then what would she do with her life?
When she could no longer concentrate at work, she headed home early. She hoped the Majola magic would help her get out of her funk. There were still a few kids waiting for their parents but most of them had gone home. She found Lerato in Samke’s room.
“Everything alright?” Lerato looked up.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” Busi lied. She could tell that Lerato was excited about something as Samke fixed her hair.
“How are you guys? What’s going on?”
“I’ve got an online interview in half-an-hour,” Lerato said, trying not to move too much as Samke started on her make-up.
“That’s awesome Rato. Can I help with anything?”
“Oh no, honey. I’m sorted.”
“Do you want me to test a Skype call with you? Or is it over Zoom?” Busi offered.
“No thanks, Themba and I did that already. He came home early to help me. I must just decide on what to wear.”
“Stop moving,” Samke commanded. “You don’t want to look like a zombie in front of your potential new bosses.”
“She’s getting this job,” Themba said, joining them. “You got that baby? The job is yours.”
Busi watched as Themba tried to steal a kiss from Lerato when Samke was looking away. Even Themba and Lerato had patched things up. Themba was now helping Lerato find a new job so that when month end came, she wouldn’t be sitting around the house.
“Is everything really alright?” Lerato turned to Busi when Samke had finished.
“You need to get a love-life,” Samke told her. “Look at how happy Baba is with Ma Stella.”
“Is there nothing else you can say, Samke? Not everyone needs a man to solve their problems. Maybe if you knew that you wouldn’t be in such a mess.”
Busi stormed out of the house and left the others picking their jaws from the floor. Busi was hardly ever mean, something big must be going on.
Busi walked down the street but she wasn’t sure where she was going. She couldn’t even go to talk to Sive because she was back at college. Everyone was too busy to pay her much attention and listen to her work problems. Everyone seemed to be moving up, except her.
She thought about what she said to Samke. She was mean but Samke really liked to just shoot her mouth sometimes. As if getting a man would solve Busi’s problems at work.
From a distance, she spotted her father going into Stella’s house. She wished she could just have the happiness Baba had right now. Baba visited Stella every day after crèche, and sometimes he ate supper at her place. He even started sleeping over. In the morning, he did the walk of shame, tiptoeing, around the house, hoping nobody had noticed him come home at dawn. He was acting like a love-sick school boy. Themba even joked about there being two weddings at the end of the year.
But Busi didn’t have time for relationships. There was too much at stake and having a boyfriend was the last thing she needed. Boys were a distraction, she told herself, and she needed to stay clear-headed and focused on the task ahead.
At work, nobody wanted Busi and at home nobody needed her. She remembered the one person who always had time for her and when she went back home she gave her a call.
“Sawubona Gogo, unjani?” she greeted.
“Awu, Busi ngane yami!” Gogo sounded so happy to hear from her.
They hadn’t talked in a while because Busi was always busy. During their conversation, Busi was careful not to tell Gogo about Baba’s new relationship; that was something he would do when he was ready. And besides, what would Busi say? She didn’t know anything anymore. Her work had made her a stranger to her family and isolated her from them.
She hadn’t yet told Gogo why she had called, instead she listened to Gogo tell news of the village and about her craft business which was doing well.
“I’m making so much money that I’ll even fly over to visit you,” Gogo said laughing. “I don’t think these old bones can take sitting on a bus for ten hours, mzukulu,” she complained.
“Maybe I can go back with you after the wedding for a short holiday,” Busi said, trying to sound cheerful.
In truth, she had thought about not going back to work if this project failed. She couldn’t be humiliated like that, she wouldn’t be. Hiding in the village was starting to sound good, maybe she’d do that.
“How is work, mzukulu?” Gogo finally asked the dreaded question.
Busi told her all that was happening and how miserable she felt every day she had to go to work.
“You are a Majola, and OoMajola never, ever give up,” Gogo said when Busi said she thought about quitting.
“But it’s so hard Gogo,” Busi cried. “And the guys all hate me.”
Gogo laughed and this hurt Busi a little. She was expecting a little sympathy and not to be laughed at.
“When boys give you a hard time it usually means they like you,” she said. “That’s what they did in my day.”
“Oh, but these boys don’t like me. They’d love nothing more than to see me quit.”
“Quit then, give them what they want.”
Busi was shocked into silence. This was not what she had expected from Gogo.
“But, if I quit, then they win.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“NO!”
“So what do you want?”
“I just want to … I want to be happy. I want to do my work. I worked hard to get here, Gogo, and I’m good at it. I want them to see that and respect me.”
Gogo was silent and Busi thought she had lost the connection.
“Gogo, are you still there?”
“Yebo mzukulu, I’m listening.”
There was really nothing else Busi could say.
“When I married your grandfather, his parents didn’t like me. They wanted someone else for their son. But you know how I won them over in the end?”
“You baked for them every day, fed them your special spinach pies?” Busi said. She was at a loss. She had heard that Gogo had a hard marriage, but she’d never realised that it was because of her great-grandparents.
“Cha mzukulu. The pies helped, but it was because I loved him. I showed them that no matter how badly they treated me, Ndlovu had chosen me, and until he told me otherwise, I was not going anywhere.”
Busi said nothing, at a loss for words.
“Now, do you love your computer things?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Then who cares what anybody else thinks? You’ll never be happy if you keep changing who you are to make people happy, mzukulu. So just do what makes you happy.”
When Busi said her goodbyes, she already felt better. Talking to Gogo always helped. She would face the next day with new vigour and new fight in her blood.
