“Out!” Mmeli commands Gogo and Lunga, as he storms into Mbali’s hut. “Leave us now. I need to speak with Mbali.”

Mbali is confused as Gogo hurries out with Lunga. Gogo has seen at once that Mmeli is deadly serious.

“Was he lying?” Mmeli questions Mbali.

“What are you talking about, my love?”

“Don’t call me that! Was Manqoba lying?”

Realisation dawns on Mbali face. Mmeli sees it.

“He was not lying,” mutters Mmeli. “I am … I am the fall back. Your second choice.”

“No…” Mbali starts weeping, tears flooding her cheeks. “My husband, please … I was young and naïve. Please try to understand.” Mbali reaches out to touch Mmeli.

“Don’t touch me!” he yells.

Mmeli starts pacing around and then he storms out, leaving Mbali kneeling, crying, her hands covering her face.

Mmeli roams around the village in the night, looking for a house with umqombothi. He finds a group of boozers drinking, savouring what could be the last days of village as they knew it, if Manqoba’s threats are fulfilled.

Mmeli snatches the jug from one and tips the beer into his mouth, drinking it all in gulps. “More! Bring me more,” he demands.

Later the council messenger finds Mmeli half-drunk, and he is summoned to the Nkosi.

Mmeli staggers, trying to steady himself as he nears the Royal Kraal. Reaching it, he sees the council members outside, agitated and murmuring with each other. Mmeli cuts through the gathering without talking and goes straight inside the Nkosi’s chamber, which is dark.

“Take a seat,” the Nkosi orders. “I believe perfect rule is by love and free will, not by fear or intimidation. Mmeli, do the people love me?” he asks of his general.

“I don’t know, my Nkosi.” Mmeli tries not to slur his words.

“Do you love me Mmeli?”

“It is my duty, Nkosi yami.”

“You may leave.”

Mmeli has difficulty standing up. He staggers outside where all the council members and the elders are eagerly waiting to hear what the Nkosi has said. Ndaba kaPhinga enquires about what he wanted.

Mmeli just stands still for long while, then staggers off, without a word.

Ndaba kaPhinga starts loudly lamenting, “One of the generals has turned against the Nkosi, the other is drunk and ignores us. What has become of the fate of the village? Does it all end like this?!”

Mmeli goes back to the drinking spot and drinks some more sorghum beer. The drunkards are cheering him on. Then, even though Mmeli is intoxicated, he manages to carry some beer out into the wilderness, find somewhere to sit, and drink right through the night to the next day.

In the morning, as he is drunk, staggering alone in the fields he sees a flower – the same flower that he had given Mbali. In his frustration he stamps it into the ground, destroying it. He wanders the fields until night when he grows tired, falling on his knees. He looks up to the sky, to the sad constellations. Mmeli bitterly cries, falls face down and dozes off to sleep.

Morning comes; Mmeli wakes up and wanders through the bush, not knowing where he is going. As he is stumbling along, he spots two giraffes walking in the distance, with a calf running behind them. Seeing those giraffes triggers a memory; deep inside himself, something stirs.

He watches them for a while, then suddenly he feels warm, reassured, inspired and delighted. A smile grows on his face. It is the remedy he needed. He feels healed. He turns around.

He has decided what to do, and sets off back to the village.

***

Tell us: What do you think Mmeli has been ‘healed’ of? What ‘battle within’ has been fought and won?