I still remember as fresh as new morning dawn, when I met my husband Nkosinathi Zulu. I was a timid young woman who had just completed her journalism degree and somehow he managed to steal my heart.
His family never really liked me from the start; to them I was just an unruly joburg woman and him ? A well known taxi owner and business-man. 3 years of my stay in my marriage were horror! I was forced to resign my job and relocate to the rural areas. Love blinded me and I forgot about my dreams and ambitions. I bet you’ll think my family disapproved of what was happening right? Not really! My father a traditional Zulu man approved of everything that was happening. My poor mother had to follow suit because she risked being kicked out of the house and my mother worshipped the ground my father walked on.
I had to fight tooth and nail for me to be finally be given a permission to study at a University out my province. i danced the gwara gwara dance when my father granted my permission. I greeted freedom hello! And “prison” my home goodbye, all that came crashing down when my parents decided to follow me to joburg. Sigh! All the freedom and little happiness I got vanished into thin air.
My father gladly accept the lobola money from the Zulu family. According to him marriage was the type of taming I needed; bearing babies and being a house-wife like my mother (roll eyes) was what I need. I quote: “you should be glad that he even chose you , woman like you don’t even get to taste a dime of you are given and don’t make a mistake of decided to leave your marriage and coming back to this home because I will kill you before you think of stepping into my house” ….well to be honest we never had a father- daughter relationship. I’ve always been treated like an outcast by him. My biggest concern was that my own mother never stood up for me . I guess she was just scared of this vicious lion called my father.
Nkosinathi and I never had any children in our marriage. The lousy women my mother- in law brought in my marriage to conceive on behalf of my husband and I didn’t soften the blow; at least none of them ever got pregnant. The name calling from my mother in law never really stopped I was named The evil makoti from the big cities who used mutis on nkosinathi. My marriage with him went from being a gentleman to being a monster in a space of 3 years during our marriage; fortunately for me he never lifted up his hand on me but the cheating never made things easy for me.