By morning, I am sober as a judge. I am not filled with remorse, though for a moment I wish Khethiwe hadn’t seen me in that state.

But nah, screw it, I can’t undo it now, I reckon.

After breakfast, Khethiwe comes to the rescue with money. Nkosi and I head back to the farm to get another fat sheep for 300 Rands.

When we arrive at the family house, we find the elders sharpening their knives.

Bab’ Mthembu inspects the sheep, “Good one, Nkosi. This is a very fat sheep, we shall feast like men. Though your friend may have to excuse himself.”

I gasp and shake my head, “No, malume! What transpired yesterday was a huge happenstance and you have my word nothing of that nature will ever occur again. I swear on my grandmother’s grave,” I plead.

Bab’ Mthembu reaches for my hand, “OK, Seun, you may stay. But only because I feel sorry for that poor girl, Khethiwe. I don’t know why she hasn’t left yet, she must think you kak rainbows.”

I bow down, “Eish, malume, sorry,” trying to sound apologetic, something not usually in my nature. For the first time in a while, I feel something unfamiliar; shame. I feel thankful for Khethiwe for saving my arse yet again.

“I’d watch my back if I were you,” he tells me. “The universe conspires against those who conspire against her people!”

He turns to Nkosi, “You shall suffer for backing the wrong horse.”

I shake my head, “Best say your prayers, Nkosi, because shit just hit the fan.”

Nkosi gasps, eyes watering, “Lord have mercy on our souls”

Bab’ Mthembu walks away, “Nilibambe linga shoni,” he says, leaving me and Nkosi with a terrified look of horror on our faces.

* * *

I decide to spend some time with Khethiwe, just to see where her head is.

I find her in the kitchen alone, cleaning tripe. I walk up behind her, “Tjo, if I knew you’d make such a fine makoti, I would have married you a long time ago.”

Khethiwe turns to me with a silly scowl.

I smile, “Umuhle mawukwatile yoh!”

She cracks a smile.

“There we go!” I say. “Please don’t be mad at me for acting foolish. I suppose I can be too much.”

“Oh come on, Seun, you’re not so bad. Besides, Nkosi doesn’t seem to mind.”

I caress her tiny soft hand, “Thanks for looking out for me with the sheep situation.”

I glance outside through the kitchen window at the elders devouring the carcass, only to witness Nkosi standing by with a knife, still waiting his turn to help out. His turn never comes.

I sigh, “Khethiwe, let me rescue Nkosi from Omalule.”

I step out of the house and Nkosi pulls me to the side, “Seun, this party is dead. They won’t even allow me to help out with the sheep. Let’s go have a few beers at Jamu’s tavern.”

I look back at Khethiwe through the window. Nkosi taps me on the shoulder, “Forget about her for a while, they treat her like family. Let’s go!”

Khetiwe probably feels me staring at her; she looks up at me and smiles.

I smile back, my heart melting in my chest.

Nkosi shakes his head, “Oh, Seun, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”

He’s right, I keep forgetting that. “Let’s go,” I say to Nkosi.

Tell us: What do you think is happening between Seun and Khethiwe?