When we get home, Themba rushes to my bedroom, and lays out his toys. He’s been quiet ever since Mpendulo dropped him off.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

He looks at me, his innocent eyes, and long lashes remind me of his father. Then again, everything about Themba is Mpendulo.

“Uncle Mpendulo told me he’s my daddy?” He says, pushing his toy car on the mat.

“He..what?” I shout

He looks at me and shrugs, then goes back to playing with his toys. I storm to the bedroom, seek under the wardrobe for the business card. I decide to call this bastard.

“Hey.” He greets.

“Hey? What the hell did you tell my son?” 

“The truth.”

“The truth? He’s a little boy, Mpendulo. He’s 3.” I shout. “You’ll confuse him” I continue.

“Confuse? I just want the boy to know who I am. I want him to know his roots, his clan names.” 

“Clan..say what? Mpendulo, you ditched me when I fell pregnant. You didn’t care about me nor Themba. Just crawl back to whatever little hole you came out of” I almost sob.

“You sing a different story when I’m inside your hole.” 

I can imagine him smirking.

I instantly hang up.