Umbutho

Three

Dear life, whatever I have done to make you seem harder to me in a matter of a few days; I am sorry.

So my father stood before an exact copy of himself. From what I know, uBaba is the only child and doesn't have any cousins nor brothers. This that I am looking at is quite confusing and dragging to say the least. Who is this younger version of my father and why did he just bang on our door? "He says he is my son" my father utters in a gentle voice. It is very much visible that this man is related to us but how? Baba would've informed me in regards to a sibling right?

The man looks like my father but he is slightly way underdressed. He is basically in rags and that just makes my heart sore. If indeed he is my brother, that means life has not been too kind to him. I wonder if he's even eaten anything because his lips are dry and brittle and also look very cracked. The eyes that resemble my father's are covered in a wall of pain. My father makes way for him to enter and that's when I notice the little boy clinging on his father's leg. They walk in deeper into the living room as the little boy shy's away on his father's lap.

"Hlehle, make them something to eat." My father commands in a monotone voice sending a vibrating sound throughout the house. I head to the kitchen listening in hoping to hear them talk but no sound bounces in my eardrums. I hand the food over to 'my brother' and watch as he feeds only his son. The connection these two hold is by far the most transparent, you see the love, you feel the love and you just bask in it. When he is done he takes a few spoons to his own mouth and drops it. The plate is not empty but he doesn't seem to care as his eyes linger on the small man laying his head on his father's chest.

"Bengisacela amanzi? (May I please get a glass of water?)" He speaks for the first time in my view asking for a glass of water. When I hand it to him he whispers to the boy and makes him drink then allows him to go back to his nap. The little boy is quiet tierd so it isn't weird that he wants to sleep plus it's quite late. I take the plates away and go back to the living room sitting across the man. "Igama lami (My name is) oNtsikayomzi Xaba. Isona sbongo engisaziyo. (That's the surname I was raised with) " He says humbly. Ntsika is quite a tall man and if he ate more he would also be fit. He is very skinny and what i have just witnessed makes me believe he'd rather his son eat that himself. "Lo (This) uNkanyiso he is my son, una 4 futhi akaboni kahle emehlweni (he's four years old, he has eye problems)" he says pointing to the snoring boy on his lap. He looks so cute and his eye problems would most probably compare to mine.

"I was raised in Kwamashu and I never knew by who. I've been looking for my family for years and unfortunately I lost the woman that raised me. I am 29 years old and ngempela ngiya phanda kodwa kunzima (I do hustle here and there but it's hard). I found a lead about the woman that raised me so I followed it. Staying on the streets half of my life helps with this kind of information. When I found her she couldn't even look me in the eyes, she just told me my father's name and where I would find him and locked me out. I don't care about her all I care about is having a ceremony for uNkanyiso so that he becomes well nje ngezinye engane. Please I'm not here for money nor am i here for your love it's fine if you don't want me here but I really need this for him. I don't care about myself just him" he said the last part in a whisper. Now that i see it, Nkanyiso was scratching on his skin each time and each time he would release a painful whimper. I knew that this Man was telling the truth when Nkanyiso scratched his back and I saw his birth mark. A birth mark that I possess which is all over my back and if I'm guessing right it would be all over Nkanyiso's back as well.

My father saw this too so he stood up and asked me to show them a room in which they would sleep in. He looked angry and ready to destroy a lot. He left soon after and I wondered where he would be going and I hope that the person is ready for his fury. I looked at my brother in the eyes and sighed. Only God knows what he's been through and I pray he is not emotionally hurt because those people are the ones that tend to self-destruct. I showed him the room and gave them new toothbrushes as well as my father's old clothes. They were not really old they just didn't fit him anymore because he kept getting even more muscular. That old man doesn't want to grow old like the rest of his peers haiibo.

"I'm in the room next door so whatever you need call me ok?" I said standing by the door so that I don't make him uncomfortable. He nods and mummers a little 'thank you'. Throwing myself on my own bed doesn't seem to be the cure. I'm just conflicted with the fact that I've always had a brother but because of his selfish mother that decided it was a great idea to dump him somewhere instead of bringing him here. Home where he belongs. Now a poor 4 year old was going to suffer because of a selfish woman thinking with the place in which she pee's instead of her actual brain. Woman are irritating sometimes because you do these things then later cry rape and abuse when you did this without turning back. I know she has her reasons why but the fact that she locked the door when her own child came to her for help says a lot about her character.

The next morning I woke up pretty early so that I can make these men breakfast and rush to school. I would love to bond with my brother and nephew but then this is what I signed up for by applying for biochemistry. I love the course though so there's really no need to complain. As I step into the kitchen I find my father as always sitting on a chair reading a newspaper. "Sawubona Baba" I kiss his cheek after he responds then start preparing breakfast. Nothing fancy, i don't have time for fancy and if i could I would by them something from Wimpy but my father would blow a fuse. Why do Zulu men hate fast food? Iyoo he should just get married shame. When I'm done I go to the room which my brother and his son slept in and as I'm approaching, I meet Nkanyiso looking around the house.

"Hello boy boy" I say as sweet as I could. He looks at me and squints, he really needs glasses shame. "My name is Buhle I'm your aunt unjani? (How are you)" I say that all in a speedy way. "Ndiyaphila Auntie (I am well)" I smile after hearing that. I take his hand and show him to the kitchen after hearing his father in the bathroom. Nkanyiso is wearing a big shirt that used to be my father's and it looks so weird on him. "Woza kuMkhulu fanas (Come to grandpa boy boy)" my father says then picks him up and puts him on his lap as he starts giggling. Not so long ago my father said he was too young to be a grandfather but here he is laughing and giggling his first grandson. Hypocrite. My brother walks in and my father's clothes look so much better on him but still a little loose.

Were eating while listening to Nkanyiso telling us all about himself. I decided to eat today just to spend a little time with these people. Nkanyiso is so easy to love that is just a fact. "Umama ena angifuni (My mom doesn't want me)" he says in a hurt tone. Ntsika looks hurt as well. I wonder what the story is behind that. "Mina ngiyakfuna keh futhi (I want you and) we are going to get you new clothes nama toy amaningi (a lot of toys)" I say getting the mood up again. His eyes become as big as saucers and he has a big smile plastered on his face. He looks happy and I'm glad I did that. Now my goal in life is to make these two happy human beings. The problem started when I had to go to school.