I did my senior secondary at one of the well known business high schools in Butterworth. Our principal and deputies were owners of the local funeral parlors and supermarkets across Transkei, such a previlegde it was. Our neighborhood farmer’s son was teaching physics, he was also an upcoming businessman after his father. I joined the Agriculture class imagine the farm is there in front of my yard at home his son a teacher, and me in the Agriculture class. I wanted to do Geography alot “uNomvula, uVuli Valley, Irrigation Systems” because I saw them every glowing morning. When my mother applied in January the Geography class was full so I joined the Agriculture class.

I had nothing much that got stuck in my mind at high school besides when I was doing grade 10 an acounting teacher came to our class asking for models. She was organising Miss Freshers there was never Miss ugly or Miss Fohloza just about confident slim girls and boys, confident girls raised their hands. My deskmate was slender and very lightskin, the girl in front of our desk was very chubby but had a babyface and great personality she pointed our side and I replied I have brackets. I stood to show her my bracket shaped legs, everyone laughed and at grade 12 she came the second time in our class asking if there were virgins in the class, not aware and curious my desk mate and I raised hands. “Only two she said” then she left, leaving us confused. I had a different deskmate then darkskin with long hair and big eyes.

Kanti kukufa yini? I thought then a fairy told me she was probably not suppose you ASK US ABOUT BEAUTY when we are students, she probably waspointing “the CHUBBY girl”.

Just like any grade 12 we were asked to make IDs entering the doors of

HOME AFFAIRS

“Kwa- Ndlunkulu”

“messages of the world”

“Messages to Eve”

to actually have a picture on the messager herself was a very important stage for us. “u Buyisiwe umzi ka Gonya” and then we were asked to choose grades HG or SG for our subjects. Languages were obviously HG and other subjects we were suppose to choose SG as the teachers were focusing on SG exam papers. We requested HG on all subjects then requested extra teaching lessons and extra work. They agreed and we were sorted. I passed matric with a Bachelor’s Degree Administration.

Angie Motshekga’s children: Mmathari, Serofo (Sort of my Dali)

Naledi Pandor’s children: Aisha, Haroon, Fuzlar(Eisha hapona ufuzile)

Naledi Pandor was the minister then and I chose journalism and I was admitted at Walter Sisulu University, East London campus. In January as I was about to register, even though I had passion to read Xhosa news like Noxolo Groot oom and with democracy there were alot of Xhosa opportunities that were going to rise, I was at the Butterworth campus applying for Civil Engineering, luckily they had space I got in and registered there instead.

I am a talkative person, enthusiastic and full of ambition. I’ve always believed it is up to me to change things and I only can make the environment I am in attractive. I am a rural girl I take pride of the green and fresh food harvested in these lands, to empower myself I needed to take pride of the environment around me, this nature. I took pride to take studies of land and land development for a better tomorrow of my generation, to strive for excellence in doing so but enforcing our cultural norms and standards to bring about an intergrated socio-economic environment.

I graduated with cumlaude in Water Engineering.

I always used to dream big, had goals growing and had hope that one day all the things I dreamt of would eventually happen. I guess life is a journey and we all have our own specific times, time allocated to each one of us. Today it’s me, tomorrow it’s someone else. I remember the first day I received an SMS from school that I was accepted; it actually felt like a dream, I couldn’t believe that I was getting into university. My family felt so proud of me, they went all out to put my things together. My brother was telling me stories about varsity students the whole night; they were so hilarious I laughed till tears fell from my big eyes. That was the best day of my life.

The day to leave for school came; I packed everything with my mom’s help, almost cried because I didn’t want sunlight bathing soap in my toiletries. Mom had to buy me soap and lotions; my aunt bought me shower towels. I just wanted everything to be perfect. Was I not scared? Not to mention I did not even know where the school was. I was so scared for my life, my brother knew the school so he gave me directions and where the taxi should drop me off. I just wanted him to accompany me, sadly Mom did not have enough money. I had to be a big girl, and to think I never travelled anywhere alone was what scared me the most. It was the fear of the unknown, new school, new different people and a completely new environment.

Luckily enough I am friendly and when I got to school I did not struggle to make friends because all of us were new from different schools and places. Lucky for those who came with their friends from home, but even those of us who knew nobody there, it was easy for us to associate with other students as we were all in the first year group. The girls came to me, we became friends and we walked in a group of four girls. Little did wen know we were also placed at the same school’s accommodation. Everything went smoothly, we were officially friends.

When one did not have food, toiletries or anything we would share ours with her, we practically became sisters. That’s when I remembered my mom’s words when she said, “In varsity you don’t just make friends, you build sisterhood.” That’s what happened to me. My friends were sisters to me. Oh, and did I mention we even did the same course? Well, that was the best part of us being friends because we did group work together. The four of us shared rooms, two lived together so everything was just perfect. Events came; we were together partying so hard. I would go home to do my hair on Friday and come back Saturday morning to get myself ready for the night out Make-up would be so perfect as one ofour friends was our make-up artist. She was so good at it you would swear she studied beauty. Things fell apart when we were introduced to classes, Tests, assignments and classes commenced, we had difficulties. The only thing better was that the school gave us data and allowed us to stay at the school’s accommodation to access free wifi. Little did we know that did not guarantee us passing and doing exceptionally well. We started separating, each one of us minding her own business. One would miss a test or a class because of not knowing there was even one. Everything fell apart although lecturers made means for us to adjust as it was not only difficult for students but for lecturers aswell.

Weeks passed, tests, assignments and exams were written. Results came back, some failed and some passed and bursaries dropped most, we made friends and some of us made friends, others lost lives. We lost hope, they tried applying for new bursaries. They got depression, it felt heavy and painful, they had sleepless nights and had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. They stayed home for three months while we went back to school. I was watched packing with the same excitement I had before, pulling my travelling bags and giving my family goodbye hugs. It was sad for me aswell because I could have been them but I was given a second chance.I was more focused and did better, I had to face reality and stand by the choices I made to prosper .Reality hit hard, neighbours started questioning where I was, relatives calling to ask about my graduation, which made things harder than they were. To think that the bursary money was the only income I got, which I survived with, but I needed them to assist me with backup money but I had to hide from the community. This better be a lesson to all students out there. Have a daily reminder of what brought you to varsity or else you will suffer the consequences. Motivations and quotes are there to lead us and drive us to never give up but to keep pushing. Don’t sit there without putting in any effort. Varsity is twice harder than highschool, you can go from being a top student to drastically failing all your modules. You will have three-am sleepless nights wondering how are you going to pass, how you are going to make it. Your family will keep reminding you of how proud they are of you. Varsity is not for the fainthearted, it is a war zone and only those who were knocked out a couple of times but never gave up come out victorious.

When I imagined my life I thought since I am an engineer I will obviously meet an engineer and get married but life was very complicated and I was grounded in the same area, but my job moved me in different areas of South Africa, where ever I went I didn’t settle. I needed to face my life with dignity. Maybe I was impatient, as a graduate I thought I’d be living in my house after 5 years trying to bank so I could marry the partner I met in varsity but life didn’t flow on that direction for me I was always dragged backwards to my village. I would get a job and it would be a contract leading me to this Department of Health village of mine watching the Greenfields with a life stuck in one place. I learnt to medidate and connect with the spirits of this land that bound my soul here. I’d breathe in then out and look at the hills as my body eases through nature, then I realised I am Home. I love houses, I love streets, streetlights, the sound of cars, the CBD I longed walking on those parks because it feels like I am in an estranged place and I miss home or it’s al littlebit greener than the streets.

I got a contract job I was there then I came back to nature, I usually call it my healing process now when I exxagerate the chaos on my life you haven’t heard half of it, it didn’t bother me though, what worried me was longing for a small house where your neighbor is a wall away. When you grow up in a spacious environment like mine “the wildlife” you usually want to be crowded, I dreamed of township house and later on surbabian home. This is how I sat at home watching the sun go up and down and how I got married.

Life is like a drug, you’d literally want something you don’t have so badly only to find out it was with you the whole time.I gave up on the career and chose music. I opened a recording studio.

With faith I opened the studio, we started recording and one day this lady came to join our crew. I knew her before I openned the studio. I loved her voice when I pass her by the market and her singing with her twin sister.

After opening the studio and placing posters next to her family cake baking business at the supermarket, she called as I expected we talked over the phone. She had a lovely voice, I asked the crew to come to the reception so that I can introduce them. My stage name was Buoy, her name was Ruth a twin and her twin sister was Rza. Their family had a makert where they baked the finest cakes in our region. She was walking from the coffee machine with headphones on. Her favourite song’s on repeat, so she was in the zone, imagining anywhere else but where she was. That’s when it happened. I came flying past her, knocking the coffee cup from her hand. She screamed as the hot coffee spills all over my camel jacket.

“Watch where you’re going!” she shouted. “Idiot.”

“I’m so sorry. Please allow me to make it up to you by buying you coffee at lunch break.”

“Not a chance. Go try your luck elsewhere, buddy,” she said, storming away towards the bathroom.

After washing it with hand soap from the bathroom, she rinsed her jacket sleeve and dried it under the hand dryer. Two girls with matching bob hairstyles and designer handbags walked in, chattering incessantly. “we getting a new girl, so exciting right? ” says one of them, while the other agrees. They go on and on about this, even making a bet about who’ll get her first.

“Zia, don’t forget your performance review at 11,” one of them says. I went to the office.

“Good morning to you, too,” Pearl said in an exaggeratedly chirpy voice. Pearl, who’s just about the only normal person there who is friendly, laughs. She didn’t think it was funny though and let me know. “you probably need to watch yourself. The performance review is coming up in two hours.” She hosted the auditions.

She has taken about ten calls when the team lead asks her to follow her to the office. Pearl leads the way in her crisp white shirt and undersized beige chinos. Her grim manner and the file in her hand reminded her to erect a posture and bring out the good manners she usually reserves at the cafeteria. She stood outside the main office, waiting to be called in. She couldn’t get her foot to stop twitching, and her palms were moist with sweat. Her pocket mirror confirmed that she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth. She tends to be a klutz when nervous.

‘You’ve got this, Ruth,’ she tells herself in her head. If she says it enough times, she’ll start believing it. Besides, she can’t afford to lose this job. No matter how lame it is.

“Ruth, they’re ready to see you,” the blonde bombshell at the front desk announces. Everyone looks at me with avid anticipation. Talk about pressure!

“Please take a seat,” said Pearl, motioning to the chair next to his. She oblige her. Across from them I was wrapping up a phone call. I looked up, and she felt a pulsing in her throat. Ooh

“Good morning, Ruth,” I said, ashamed of bathing her in coffee earlier on.

“Uhm…eh…good morning, sir, maam” she said, voice extra pitchy with surprise. Pearl looks from one of us to the other, catching on to the tension. Her ears prick up with curiosity. Meanwhile, she struggled to feign composure. She was mortified when I opened the file to review her portfolio. I nodded my head occasionally, seemingly pleased.

“According to Pearl, you’re a bit of a troublemaker,” I said, twirling my fountain pen around my fingers while looking at her from behind a pair of designer specs. I didn’t have them on when I almost knocked her over.

“That’s not fair,” she said, unsure how to defend herself, especially after she snubbed Pearl in front of everyone that morning. Not to mention her earlier run-in with me.

“Oh? What would be a fair assessment of you?” I asked, with a smirk forming at the corners of my mouth.

“My stats speak for themselves.”

“They’re alright,” I said, coolly dismissing her self-appraisal with a shrug.

“You could be more courteous,” said Pearl, stealing a blow when she sees how vulnerable a position she was in. Coward!

“But my customers call me friendly and helpful all the time. You’ve seen the surveys.”

“Your customers are not the only ones whose impression of you matters,” said Pearl. Another sucker punch. Ouch.

“Tell me why we should renew your contract.” I said to her, my name was probarbly still a mystery to her.

“I know I didn’t make the best first impression earlier…”

“You don’t say!” I chuckle. Pearl still looked confused.

“But Pearl knows how valuable an asset I am to his team—” she said, desperately searching Pearl’s eyes for traces of sympathy and found none.

“Openly disrespecting me in front of other team members makes you a liability,” I said, sulking.

“I apologise.”, she said.

“Look, Ruth, you seem like a smart young lady. It wouldn’t hurt you to adjust to office culture.”

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you say, I promise.” she said, immediately cringing at how desperate she sounded.

“Good. Then you’ll show up for the Halloween party we’re hosting next Saturday.”

Buoy: Welcome to Moonsamy-Montilal records, introduce yourself to our team.

Ruth: I am Ruth the new girl. I am a musical vocalist who just signed up with the rrecording label.

Buoy: These girls who are going to be working with you are Zianda Faku & you met Pearl Black.

I had a picture of four women in junior school and high school, they were different. I am trying to pin out dots on why I would do such a thing🤔. Camera’s were rare then or rather hidden from us so that I don’t offend others. I also felt that cropping your picture in with us would complete a puzzle like the spy kids of Disney land. After your twin sister mystery inside the great hall it felt like a repetition of something.

Ruth stater singing “Sasikhula Sonke siphume mazulwini, lizophumi langa yiza ndikukhumbuze ubomi abumanga”

I thought of being RZA, yes a twin to Ruth.I liked her and wanted to date her.

Buoy: Wow, I should become RZA don’t you think?

Ruth: Rza, My Twin sister.

Buoy: Yes.

I wanted to get over my past. I was used to twins but not that much they were just icons or meanings in my life and were very special since I was a lesbia, especially female twins. Or they were just too much in my life so much that if I dated one I’d get over it this one thing I didn’t accomplish at birth since I was able too be ANGEL or they will completely dissappear in my life since the marriage wasn’t like Royal Kings marriage which was practiced in history. Everything was hard and difficult but seeing other homes with lesbians and twin made it worse or easy. Especially when you have to tell your parents while they don’t or have never been around LGBT people you worry and question yourself.

Should I then after I get married tell everyone that my wife is my twin to repeat this normal in my society that i grew up in.

I ussually read a sad scripture from the bible about Reebecka and I was single at the moment I wanted to be in womb of dreams with a beautiful partner.

Ruth: ohk. Uhhm!

She looked so confused about the fact that I wanted to be in a womblife so pure and honest with a partner

Buoy: wow, it seems you know my life better than me. Thank you spy kid it’s been almost 30 years I really appreciate the insight.

Zianda Faku: Munpe, my love.

Moonsamy-Motilal on fire. Mixing beats

All I could remember was the image of Nasizo Mndede’s virginity installed on her, on her junior self image. Zianda Faku looked exactly like Nasizo, so full of love and admiration for Moonsamy the DJ. There wasn’t much we did #ukombela, #imitshotsho but they were so cool everything was cool lamfana we #Gwijo the Dj.

Munpe: Yes, my love.

Zianda Faku: There’s a girl here who wants to join the crew. Buoy is cropping her pic with us. That time I was cropping her picture with us so I could fit in or rather her.

Munpe: ohk, bring her in.

They walked inside the studio

Ruth: hi my name is Ruth, I am a Twin. “Would you please be my best friend, be my hold me down when I fight against the world”

Moonsamy-Motilal with the Shaka Zulu appearance, tall dark, musculine with a rrectangular/ boyhair cut was showing signs of being attracted to Amanda black but office rumours stayed inside the company had no paparazzi we were in it to win it. Amanda black was actually on a mission to steal the guy to actually own him, she is a bubble girl who is always around Moonsamy. Ruth was living lavishly after she recorded “UThando zizenzo alohlulwa yimeko yakho”

Zianda Faku started singing,”You gonna hear me roar”, ” Into ingawe yabona bayaphanda abanayo intsebenzo ikhona nentlonipho”

Pearl Black: (so independent at the time. More like Pheliswa White) guys have you alln oticed I don’t feature Munpe I have my own band. “Power, Amandla ngaphakathi kwam”

Buoy: so he is probably your boyfriend now I was singing, “we were here besilapha “

Pearl Black: y’all are on my castle.

*********MaXhoba ayaKhawuleza********

No one knows your home, the twins you thought were twins next door might be a married couple and it’s not for you two know. Inkinga nuwe nondweni wakho

***************************************

A few final touches to her makeup, and she’s out of the door. The drive to the venue took roughly 25 minutes. A huge crystal chandelier beautified the foyer, complementing a Victorian-style wooden staircase.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” said a voice I recognise instantly. Zia is in a spandex catsuit, her makeup darker than her skin tone and heavily contoured to accentuate a masculine jawline and the kind of cheekbones supermodels would trade their souls for. Ruth’s costume was a combination of Florence Nightingale and Lolita. Think ‘Naughty Nurse’: a short nurse’s uniform, a stethoscope around her neck, fishnets and stilettos, her hair fashioned into a beehive, and her lips a bright coral.

“That was meant to be my line at the sight of all this! You look amazing!” they compliment each other, smiling. Her matte black lips part to flash a pearly-white smile.

“I thought it would be daring to appear as the iconic Grace Jones.”

“And you pulled it off seamlessly. Wow!” she said, bowing animatedly.

“Are you here alone?” Ruth asked.

Zia was not sure how to answer that. She sort of been dating someone. Jay who owns a gym uptown and is the kind of guy mothers would describe as ‘a catch’. They looked good on paper but I just wished they had the chemistry to back it up.

“Well, Munpe promised he’d come.”

“Yeah, whatever. Who’s he coming as, Frankenstein?” said Pearl, rolling her heavily llashedeyes.

“Stop it. He’s trying. We both are. And FYI, he’s coming as the Black Panther.”

“Of course. Delusions of grandeur!”

Their favourite song comes on, and they seize the opportunity to change the subject. They’re dancing in the centre of the dance floor, giggling and singing along to the chorus. I admit to myself that I haven’t had this kind of fun for almost a year.

“I’m exhausted. Let’s get something to drink,” Pearl, grabbing Zia’s hand and leading the way through the crowd. The neon lights hurt Ruth’s eyes while dancing. A few martinis later, they were back on the dance floor. This time, a slow jam comes on. The nerd from Tech Support walked over to them and asked Pearl for a dance, which she accepts. Ruth was left standing alone on the dance floor, surrounded by multiple paired bodies swaying in tandem.

“May I have this dance?”

She turned around and she was relieved to find this mysterious person on a Black Panther suit.

“You made it!” she said, placing her hand on my open palm. Her head on my chest, I wondered why I couldn’t convince her to love me. I enveloped her in my embrace as if she could read my thoughts. Still, I felt nothing. The air between us was awkward when the song’s last note died down. I excuse myself and rush to the bathroom. Tonight was supposed to be the night I tell her we are just singing for fun because I want her to be my girlfirend. She’s a good girl and deserved to be with someone who genuinely liked her . She’ll never be more than a good idea to me. Pearl walked into the bathroom. She knew she’d find me there, she said. I told her what’s on my mind, and she calls me silly. ‘A good guy,’ she said. She convinces me to give her a chance, she will assist like before and that I must try harder and spice things up instead of complaining there’s no chemistry between us. “Be proactive.” We were back to the auditorium, the lights were off. Bright-orange pumpkin lanterns have replaced them, giving the room dim, creepy lighting. A waiter walks past and offers us vodka shots. We were down two each. I made up my mind to find Ruth and take Pearl’s advice. After scanning the room for a few minutes, I found her at the bottom of the staircase, standing with her back towards me. She didn’t protest when I grabbed her by her waist, I turned her around, and pressed my lips and my entire body against her. She pushed me against the wall, and her lips searched mine until we established a rhythm. She tasted like raspberry-flavoured gum and Cuban cigars. The hint of whiskey on her breath didn’t deter me, either. She gasped as my hand disappeared under her nurse’s uniform. My inhibitions and I part ways under the command of her explorative motions. The more she touches me, the more malleable I become in her hands. The more her legs threaten to turn into jelly. If we continued any longer, I didn’t know if I could resist her moaning.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. I put my index finger on her lips to hush her and pull her towards me. She plants soft, passionate kisses on my collarbone and I squeal in delight. We took off our facemasks…shit! “You!” we both exclaim in horror. This can’t be happening. Not Ruth.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you were—”

“Excuse me,” she said, almost knocking someone over in a rush back to the bathroom.

How could she not know Munpe wasn’t the only one in a Black Panther costume that night? This was ridiculous. I thought she was going to throw up. I got a phone call from Pearl that disrupted my thoughts. I took too long to decide to answer, and she dropped it. I couldn’t think straight. It was time to leave.

********

I had to rush; sorry. I text Pearl as I sit on the couch, still trying to make sense of what happened. A number I didn’t recognise tried to call me. I never answer private numbers. I ignored it. I tried to call Zia it went to voicemail so I sent a message to find out if she is safe. I forwarded her the same text I sent to Pearl. She wishes me well and asks if I need anything from the pharmacy. Negative. I’ll just sleep it off, I insist. I ran a shower, hoping the sensation of the warm water caressing my skin will wash the guilt off me. Instead, visions of that encounter plague me: her lips, the way I pulled her towards me authoritatively, her teasing touch. How could she have missed that it wasn’t Munpe all that time? What must Ruth think of me? I am the highest authority figure at the company, for crying out loud. This is such a mess. The next morning, I do a bit of spring cleaning around my place, hoping the routine will distract my mind from…her! Emptying the cupboards and scrubbing the floors to listening to soft jazz, I wear myself out, wanting to forget. No use dwelling on what happened; it’s not like I can change it. I don’t have to face it — face her— for the next 24 hours. My strategy would have worked if it hadn’t been for the random flashbacks. I’d be shining my cutlery while humming along to the music, then BAM! Her hands all over me, the scent of her sweet cologne, her breath against my collarbone. Chills. Shivers down my spine. Breathy sighs escaping my lungs. My deep yearning. This is crazy. I need to get her off my mind. A simple English breakfast, and I’ve regained my strength. I took some aspirin for the hangover headache, and I took a hot lavender bath to soothe my aching muscles. I read a few pages of the senseless romance novel I bought a few weeks ago. The stuff is pure, unadulterated trash. The pining little lady and her callous love interest. It could never be me. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna spend my life waiting for a woman to pick me. Those tropes are so archaic. I pour myself a glass of orange juice and switch on the TV searching for sport, Rugby. Ugh. I can’t stand this. I change the channel.

“We interrupt your regular viewing to give you the latest afternoon news. Local musician Ruth has allegedly been rushed to hospital after a motorbike accident on the N2.” The shock caused me to lose my grip on the glass. Everything happened in slow motion. The juice spills onto my white fleece blanket. I heard the glass shattering before the splinters scatter all over the shiny ceramic floor. There had to be a mistake.

“Her lawyers have asked the media to respect her privacy and not approach her family for updates,” continues the reporter.

The rest is an inaudible droning sound. I didn’t even understand why I cried. We hardly knew each other, after all. I made a call to Pearl to confirm the news report. Apparently, the company has sent emails to assure all employees that tomorrow is business as usual. Ruth will be fine, they say, and there is no cause for concern. My nap doesn’t bring me much relief. I tossed and turned in bed, wondering how serious her motorbike accident was, how to look at our encounter and what will happen if she doesn’t make it. Her mind really is her worst enemy sometimes. Sleeping pills should do it. She pop two in her mouth, fasten her hair in a bonnet, climb into bed, and hope for the best. When Munpe called just past midnight, hinting he wants to come over, she allowed it. She could barely concentrate on his voice without being taken back to the bottom of that staircase with the other Black Panther. More than twice he had to ask her if there’s something on her mind. She told him it’s work only a partial lie. We made out. She squinted her eyes, imagine he kissed her. Munpe tries to take things further but she faked a headache. We sleep with our backs to each other. The environment at work felt weird. Everyone was uncertain whether to ask questions and, if so, what questions to ask. Nobody knew Ruth well enough to know what the appropriate reaction is. I chipped in when they decided on flowers. A ‘Get Well Soon’ card circulates, and everyone wrote their messages. I couldn’t decide whether they’re good people or a bunch of sycophants, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. I hesitated but couldn’t talk her out of it when Pearl delegated the task of taking the flowers to Ruth, to me. Part of me wonders if she saw us that night or if wether it was really just a big coincidence. I decided in favour of the latter. If the other possibility were true, everyone would have been whispering and gawking in my direction.

“Fine, I guess it’s on me, then,” I said.

“Thanks so much. You know, I’m beginning to think I may have judged you harshly,” said Pearl, patting my shoulder.

********

The hospital trauma ward is a challenge to get to. Walking across the breadth of grounds expansive enough to fit two soccer stadiums, then down long hallways in stilettos, is no child’s play. I purchased a bottle of still water from the vending machine to quell the thirst I’d worked up. The hospital manager is hard-core about the visitation rules: entry is only granted to family members. She raised an eyebrow when I assure her that Ruth was my fiance. I restrain myself from asking if it’s her first time hearing of a homosexual couple. The bouquet of flowers works in my favour.

“Down the passage, third door on your left,” she said, eyeing me momentarily after having me sign the register.

“You,” she said, after I walked in.

“Uhm…hi…I mean, good afternoon, Ruth” I said, stuttering terribly and biting my fingernails

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. Pearl asked me to bring these from everyone at the office,” I said, extending the bouquet towards her.

“Thanks, but I’m allergic to flowers,” she said, pointing me to the table, where to put the bouquet.

“I’ll leave if you don’t want me here,” I said, dashing for the door. I was about to close it behind me when she calls me back.

“Buoy, wait.” I turned my head to look back. She asked me to come inside.

“I’m sorry, I hate appearing weak. It’s frustrating to have you see me this way.” I turn my gaze up to look her in the eye.

“To have anyone see me this way,” she said, correcting herself quickly. By ‘this way’ she means with the cast on her right leg, the bruised, swollen face and neck brace.

“Looks hectic,” I said.

“Yeah, the doctor called it a close call.”

“Sorry,”

“I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” I said, my voice incredulous.

“Not entirely sorry about Saturday night, I mean.”

My heart beats fast. I can feel the blood rushing to my face. I sit there, blushing.

“Why did you kiss me?” I asked, a smirk hiding behind my grim expression.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were my boyfriend—”

“This gets juicier by the moment. Would you like me to be?” I chuckle.

She frowns.

“This isn’t funny. I genuinely mistook you for my boyfriend. The two of you wore the same costume,” she said, rushing through the words, my hands gesticulating all over the place. That’s when the nurse came in.

“Everything alright, Ruth? Those are lovely flowers your fiance brought you,” she said.

She turns her head sharply from her to me.

“My fiance…is very special”

“I’ll leave you two to it. Visitation ends in 20 minutes. Just don’t get overly excited,” the nurse said, chuckling as she walked away.

“I’ll do my best,” she said.

We sit in awkward silence for a minute.

“Fiance, huh? You move quite fast! I thought what they said about tomboy women was a

lie.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“That you lot kiss the boys and make them cry.”

“I don’t recall you crying!”

“Boys!!”

“You mean sexy women on heels?”

Oops. That comes out cheekier than intended. We both laugh. She calls me feisty. She asked me to help adjust her bed so that she can sit up straight. I move closer and lean over her, almost falling over her. She catches me by wrapping her one good arm around me and hoisting me close. Our eyes lock.

“I wasn’t complaining about the kiss. Do you have any complaints about what unfolded?” she asks, her voice sounding tender and serious.

“It shouldn’t have happened. You’re my boss. I really didn’t know it was you.”

“Oh, but it did, and it was fantastic.”

“You mean that?”

Life has a way of teaching us what is important. Being a group of 5 with the Ruth hospitalised, and everyone else trying to get gigs and recording, it felt like we were at the lowest point in our lives. She was new and I was in love with her. Every day, morning, afternoon and night, we would visit, and upon arrival she’d always have a smile. Doctors telling us she is healing, she’d still smile. Every day we’d hear; “I have faith that God will do whatever needs to be done for the best for us.” With tears in our eyes, we often questioned God and his plans. But Ruth, she had that special kind of faith. Things did not immediately get better. Daily she looked stronger and never struggled to walk luckily her faith showed through with a positive smile on her face. Reading her charts, speaking to doctors, seeing how she looked physically, hearing people say she nearly broken her spinal cord, all these things took its toll on us. But her? She remained full of faith and positive. Day by day, little by little, her faith grew stronger, people came in and out of the ward, she remained hospitalised and days felt like they were dark but she always saw the light. Sleepless nights, swollen body parts, struggling to run freely, she remained full of faith in God. The most difficult part was remaining strong and smiling when looking at her suffering, fighting back tears daily, but she, she remained positive. After, nearly 2 months later, she was up and walking like someone who was never in that space. Yes, she stopped working and she had down days but her faith remained. That special faith kept us strong. Her positivity kept us hopeful and faithful. If before we never thought faith was real, then we knew faith in God, our something special, has kept us. Despite obstacles life has tried to throw our way, we were stronger than ever. Our special family with this very special faith remained hopeful and strong, believing God will never give us more than we can handle. Ruth and I agreed to keep things professional at work. Pretending we’re not attracted to each other was a challenge, so I avoided her at all costs. Outside of work was a different story. We simply couldn’t keep our hands off each other. The clandestine meetings at my townhouse kept things exciting. Her break up with Munpe was easy, they hardly knew each other Munpe’s a brand to our company. We had something comfortable, she said. Imagine using the word ‘comfortable’ to describe your love life. I told her I want butterflies in my stomach and hot flashbacks, not comfort. She asked me to have her stuff boxed and couriered. After three months of secretly dating, she grew tired of our little trysts. She ignored my calls, didn’t text back, and made it a point to avoid the area around my office.

“You don’t get it,” she told me when I asked her what’s wrong over dinner.

“Then explain it to me,” I used to ask, leaning in to kiss her. I’d pull away just as her lips are about to touch my cheek.

“Look, it’s my reputation on the line. If we get found up, I’m automatically seen as the slut who’s determined to sleep her way to the top. A black girl doing her boss for a promotion.”

Her crestfallen expression tolf me she’s never thought of it this way long before she actually said it. I assured her it’s because she’s never had to. In his world, an office romance is acceptable. The world holds women like her to different standards. Our oyster dinner was a mechanical affair, orchestrated in silence and tension. I was relieved when she told me we should call it a night. She promised to call me and I dropped her off at her place. She hasn’t slept there in a while. It hurts to let go. At times you’d see that the more you try to rekindle things, the more things get even uglier. It’s inevitable that all good things come to an end, I was the lonely one while she was out there acting like we never had a good thing going on. I should’ve seen it coming. Damn! I should’ve seen the signs, but I was so blinded by the spell of love I was in. It was so insane of me to keep telling everybody that she was mine for eternity.

Sometimes I wonder if she ever even loved me. If she did, how could she be fine while my heart is burning in flames, her sweet words cutting my throat like sharp swords, tears running down and drying on their own, while she’s out there dancing like dirty Diana? I couldn’t resist her sweet, choking lies that made me believe that she was the one. However, at times I did see that she was not good for me. Yet I prayed that she would change and act right, but God must be really mad at me. HE showed me signs to help me see; but I chose to look through rose-coloured glasses and here I am all by myself with nothing but a broken heart.

She’s sitting at our favorite spot with my friends and I was not there. I still remember the last kiss we had and how your sweet lips melted my cherry pop lips. When she looked at that watch I gave her, doesn’t she see a reflection of me? That necklace she wore smelt like my perfume and yet she pretended like she didn’t care. I still remembered the night she shot me with the “let’s be Professional” bullet. Her voice rumbled like anearthquake and I couldn’t shield myself because she had it all figured it out, that she better off without me. I punished myself because I thought I had done something wrong, only to find out that she saw a hole and dragged me into it with her, camouflaging herself with my innocent face. I missed her so much. The more I tried to get her out of my head, the more she became attached in my membrane, like a tattoo. Is it over? Should I turn over a new page? I don’t think so. It’s like she had me wrapped around her fingers. I didn’t even know where I will get the courage to move on. The following morning, Ruth got to work, and the secretary told her that I was looking for her.

She was still languishing in her chair when I came storming down the corridor.

“Ruth, I want you to pack your stuff and vacate that desk now,” I said sternly. There were loud gasps and whispers in the office. Horrified, she cleared her desk with tears dripping down her eyes. “This can’t be right. How dare she mislead me and humiliate me this way? I silently vowed to take her to task. The press will have a field day on her!”

“Are you done?” I said, my voice booming so everyone within a 100-metre radius hears me. Mortified, she hug the box filled with her personal effects and make to leave.

“Yes, I’m done, alright,” she said. Only her didn’t know what to make of what she saw next.

“Good, because I can’t have my fiance working under me,” I said.

“Huh?” she mumbled, dumbfounded.

“She’s on bended knee,” A few colleagues had their phones ready. Others whispered, while the more audacious amongst them gasped in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m asking you to marry me!” I said, producing a small cubic box covered in black velvet. Inside is a beautiful diamond ring glistening with perfection.

“Uhm…yes, yes I will,” she said, crying uncontrollably. I placed the ring on her finger, then swooped her in my arms and kissed her. Everyone claps, cheers and ululates. Champagne-popping, picture-taking, and dancing replace work. Nobody took calls in the past hour; they were all logged on ‘Training’ mode. The girls take turns coming to admire the rock on her finger. Pearl pulls Ruth aside and demands all the details. They laugh and hug each other.

“I’ve never seen you this happy!” Zia said. “But are you sure this is what you want?”

“All I know is that Buoy makes me happy,” Ruth replied.

“Then I guess that’s all that matters,” Zia said, sobbing.

“What’s wrong, friend?” Ruth asked.

“What are you gonna do for work?”

“I’m accepting that managerial offer from the car dealership in Sandton,” Ruth said.

“So you’ve had this worked out all this time?” Zia asked.

“No, not this part. I didn’t even know Buoy was gonna do that.” replied Ruth.

“And seeing her behind my back?” Pearl asked, pouting.

“I admit that was dodgy of me. I just wanted to wait until I was sure.”

“I’m gonna miss you, dammit.”

“I’m not moving to Germany or anything, just leaving the company!”

“You’d better call me often. Send me pictures from your honeymoon.”

“You’re madder than you look if you think accepting a marriage proposal means you’re

rid of me for good. Who do you think is gonna be my Maid of Honour?”

“Oh honey, I accept. Yaas!”

We giggle and jumped around like little girls.

* * *

So that happened. I got her fired and engaged simultaneously. Talk about moving fast! After years of travelling I actually ended up marrying Ruth. Like any other marriage only two are involved. There can be friends at the beginning or family but true commitment is with the two. Learning yourselves, your own anger management, transformation of your inner powers within yourselves before the world. The connection of two souls that were destined to be together, breaking chains of barriers, releasing evil forces that may ruin your marriage it needs both partners. A time of triumph, quarrel, a shock wave of confusion came to us. It was a friday evenning and Ruth didn’t come home late as usual. I decided to not cook and wait for her and to also not text her but to wait. I thought we will probably order something or go out. I waited and waited.

From 16:00 since friday is a short day to 18:00 she didn’t show up. We usually watch one of our favorite sriday series around 20:00. I took it to heart and let my pride go by 19:00 and texted, nothing not even an automatic response. 2 minutes later I called, it went through voicemail. I called her work there was no one, I called her colleagues they last saw her around 16:00. I was now panicking, it’s really late where coule she be? I was not even thinking of cheating, I was thinking of all sort of things like accidents or being kidnapped. I called the police station and hospitals to track roads for accidents. I was devastated.

I drove through the city to check myself from her workplace to our home for any signs of dents or car parts on the side of the road. I went to the nearby supermarket parking lot, there was no sign of her nor her car. The police called for identification on my way home. I described what I could remember that I saw her put on in the morning but not quite sure as my mind was all over the place. I got home and called her family as I walked towards our bedroom to check our walk in closet if I could pick up which jacket she wore just to be sure. The phone was ringing as I opened the closet. Wooow

Ruth’s Mom : Buoy, I am glad you called.

Buoy: Mme, What happened?

Her whole side of the closet was empty, she didn’t leave even a lipstick. I walked backwards to sit on top of the bed looking at the closet.

Ruth’s Mom : She just showed up this evening with all her luggage what happened?

Buoy: I don’t know, please put her on the phone for me.

Ruth’s Mom : darling, Buoy is on the phone she wants to talk.

Ruth: hi

Buoy: what happened, how can you do this to us?

Ruth: babe, I am sorry to act like this but I thought it was the best option.

Buoy: to just pack and not tell me..

Ruth: listen, it’s not you it’s me. I meant to tell you a long time ago I need my space. I can’t feel my energy anymore and I need it. I need to connect with my inner self. It felt like I don’t know what I was doing everything is a mess and I need to just connect with spirit and soul and I always find that at home. We’ve been married for 3 years. I tried to convince her but no amount of words could change her mind. She wanted to connect with her roots to find a meaning to her soul and that was deep. There was nothing I could do but to let her be.

“Uzundikhulule ngoba andinawo amandla wokunyamezela”

I was alone just alone sitting there all alone where she left me. There is so much power in being alone. Free at last to conquer the world. 3 years of marriage all placed on hold. I loved the scent of her skin with no clothes left in the house the scent was left on our pillow and a traditional cloth that stayed in our passage closet on a box with an empty album. I took it and cuddled it thinking of her soft skin, her glowing big eyes and her Afro. She loved braids she’d wear white braids, thick, thin, black braids, sometimes all rainbow color- braids. I’d play with her braids and watch her eyes until I fall asleep. I couldn’t sleep the pillow had a paddle of tears as I sniffed it the whole night. I woke up to cut off all my draidlocks. Then for a glass of water and sleeping pills. I got drowsier and drowsier until no thought of her was left on my mind. The following day the thought of the fact that, we used to be friends, we even vowed not to be separated by any obstacle we came across in life, maybe it was just my other expirience at HOME AFFAIRS that was important, now you all know how hurt I was but hey life happenned. Months went, she seemed to have found another. She was the one-person I knew and I trusted that she cared, but there I was, alone with my desires and the most silent cries.

She became like most people that didn’t care, she no longer saw the tears on my face. She became one of them and together intergrated in a consortium and couldn’t hear my silent cries, nor sense the very deepest fears. Oh how I prayed for the day she realised that she lost me. Maybe this story would portray a goodbye note to her, for she did not value our relationship. Perhaps our ship got buried the day we went to bury her in sandton. I couldn’t help but to think maybe she was the glue to the relationship because now we remained estranged lovers and shared dead memories. Yes our marriage might have ended but I begged her to play the role she was obliged to play and be responsible. I felt lost in a world full of people, all alone in the company of millions. I was crowded with love by people yet I was all alone. They didn’t see the teardrops which cut right through to the bone. The silent cries that are a longing escape to a safer and better place. I was lost for words, tears were overrunning like floods down my cheeks. I wondered if my face will ever see glow of the morning sunrise for all I held was anger rooming in my heart and my soul. What pained me the most was her upsents she didn’t feel nor saw this pain that was penetrating through my veins and breaking me apart. Even though my cries were silent, I would always hear her voice, saw her smile, hoping she’d walk in and tell me she was just making a prank. I trusted in the love I seeked. I would swear to forever be there to help her for in my love I relied. The pillow became my friend who doesn’t judge me. At night I cried, but there was no one to hear, no-one to listen to that dream I held dear, except my pillow.

I could relate to most broken hearts “A silent cry screams louder.” I believed that uniqueness is better than faking a character. I believed that it was better to make mistakes than to fake yourself life is about learning, yet mastering your own identity, to be understood, calmily being accepted by your diversital society of your gender, your beliefs, your goals and your on going achievements. We learn to so that we meet people with socio-economic needs and beliefs as ourselves. If I wanted to be my mother, she told me her route I would have made a short cut of it as an educated person. I believe that you don’t have to be somebody you’re not, and thus I will stress the importance of identity. We are all brought up to show who we are but faking a character doesn’t really show off our uniqueness.

My favourite celebs children are:

Phumeza Hlomendlini: Khumo, Mpho, Mpilo ( in greek- Bame bePhiwe uHealth kuzalwa nje?)

Johanne Reyneke: (Luluvo lwakhe)

Pearl Thusi: (Tandolwethu uyathanda)

Amanda Dupont:-

***My Judge SheINDLIN and Judge LAKES properties and paternity.***

So basically who ever doesn’t have a child stopped with giving gifts to Department of Health, or loved the idea or had an opinion not to.

I used to know Romeo Khumalo and Basetsana as a couple relating to television his children are Nathi, Shaka and Bontle. I’d say (Uno Shaka wakhe omhle)

The Kardashians signature of children include North, Saint, Psalms, Storm, True, Dream, Chicago. More like a prayer to the one above. (Phezulu, kukho ilungisa lokusidumisa, nyani, sisaqwithi)

Beyonce and JayZ signature of children: Blue Ivy, Siri, Rum (intaka yeZulu, ukunomathotholo noRamaphosa and Tina Knowles:- uyaziSola ngobanguwe)

I ‘ve looked up on a number on people including the president. His signature of children include Tumisho, Andile and Mashudu in Xhosa I’d read his sentence as (uthume umendi emishadweni)

Motsepe’s children it might sound like:- (ndithembhe phathiirice brigde) maybe eating rice to save money is better.

Patrice Motsepe his children are Thlophie, Kgosi, Kabelo in English I got curiousto actually find meanings:- (the chosen one by the chief will share) in Xhosa I’d say (hloniphi Nkosi ikhabelo)

Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip: Princess Anne,Prince Andrew, Prince Charles and Prince Edward

(And I grew chatting and worried)

their grandchildren:- Princess Eugenie, Princess Beatrice, Prince Williams, Prince Harry, Zara Tedall

(You gym, beat rice, Will hairy, nzothi TADA)

What it meant to me was television is like a phone yo get in and broadcast yourself and your stations in life there is God a saint who brings us to the world is above he talks to leaders to lead according to the needs of the people. The leader will lead and also tell us to save the economy by educating us on examples of bugdeting. We are chatting to God and the man is you when you save your expenditure of rice aswell you will surprise yourself, you are a strong man. I mean, why would anyone fake a character in a sitution like that we are unique with the strength and dignity? The beautiful laughter you gave didn’t show fear but confidence. It’s wise to never compae traits, to stay true to what you are, how you are and who you are, and by that I swear nobody shall judge because being true to yourself, can surpass jugdement and strengthen us for the better. Let’s do us and never stress about what people say. Quotes likeis,“What will people say?” has killed many of us, which turned some into believing that faking a character will solve problems. Yes, to them it might not make sense, but that’s OK, because by then you would never expect everyone to understand you. They don’t have to as it’s between them and the Almighty God. Continue being kind, sweet, humble and modest. Stay grateful and remember the importance of the quality of humility. Know your purpose, where you want to go in life, and what you were brought here for. It won’t be that easy to get changed by the people you associate yourself with. Avoid people who mislead you in any way: that too would be a great fresh start. Live life to the fullest and don’t lose hope so you can move forward.

“Don’t sacrifice old-fashioned good principles for what’s popular” is a line I have been living by. I had never forgotten who I was and where I came from. I genuely meet people and remain humble, respecting, loving my background my roots. Yes, people can be toxic, the environment can be toxic, habits can be toxic that contribute to the faking a character but then it doesn’t mean you should let it control you. I believe that for you to stay true to yourself you need to answer some questions. If you knew the real definition of truth you would understand that it requires the act of putting forth honesty, or being genuinely faithful to yourself. Life is wonderful when you stay true to yourself as it gives you a sense of identity to commit to your principles and beliefs. Be committed to your character and refuse to contradict your beliefs for popularity. Stay true to the character that God formed you to be. Yes, in certain ways we are called to change our lives. As Jesus has said, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make paths straight” (Proverbs 3:3-6). “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3).

Not everyone in your group carries the same attitude, shares the same vision and beliefs, or sees what you see. We all have that front that is unique to us. We can’t expect everyone to like us neither can we expect ourselves to be like them. Never in your life compare yourself to somebody else because the original you shines bright like a diamond to us. Even as the calendar changes, your character should always remain the same. If somehow being true to yourself is hard, kneel down to God and pray harder and know the very best that you cannot escape to a better place from something you don’t know nor understand fully. Best thing you can learn is to stay true to your character even when people test you. Never let life circumstances press you to the point where you worry yourself big time stay focused and maintain your character even when you know their true intentions as God will protect you.

Let people see only what you want them to see, because you will always look happy without care. If it kills them inside, gives them sleepless nights and make them hate you, then so be it! As long as it makes you happy, make the world a better place and give your soul some joy. Be the kind of person you want to be! Be that wonderful woman and that handsome gentleman! And remember that in every way and every day be true to yourself and your own dreams. Don’t lose your light because of a fake character, eventually toxic things can influence you badly. Live according to your own words, be the example to people who think faking their character is 100% good and that it will solve their problems. Your beauty shines from the inside and out and that is just enough to keep you happy. What you have to give to this world is more than money can buy, so remember you will always be who you are regardless of how long you fake your character.

***

Cherish your relations, do not let the lost of one be the end of relationships, live for their memories. Friendships are golden, I hoped she would realise that one day. In my heart she remained. The silent cry of heart, no one knew it, my tears may shatter but my dreams won’t. It reminds me of a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”

In memory of my queen, the love that has passed, my very own lover who taught me the value of friendship.