Umbutho

Twenty-five

Twenty-five

***NOT EDITED***

Inkinga zami vele zi kuluphale nje. Angsazi ngenze njani. (My problems keep increasing. I don't even know what to do anymore.)

I didn't say anything that day. I didn't tell my family of what I found out nor did I tell a soul after that. I had this fear of being abandoned like someone who has been through that all my life. I forgot the fact that I was loved by my family and that caused me to fill my mind with all the possibilities of what would never happen. Yes my father would be angry but I don't think he would resort to kicking me out of my home. A place I grew up in. A place of warmth and safety which has just been better and better with additions. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.

I went back home and acted like everything was ok. I acted like everything was fine and I almost believed it for a second but then we pulled up at Phila's drive way and I felt every little thing that I locked up inside of my head spilling out like water does out a tap. I look towards my mother with fear thinking of all the possible outcome this day would leave. I don't want to be here because I know seeing Phila would just pull me towards him like what happened didn't happen. I didn't want to push it aside because of the fear that eventually it will come and bite me.

She had a reassuring smile on her beautiful face sort of saying, 'it's ok nana' without really saying it. We got out of the car, all four of us with no presence of my nephew. I don't know what happns to that boy lately. We were welcomed in by his stepmother as well as father and an older man that I couldn't recognize. I had a doek over my head after my mother asked me to. I had a long dress on as well as a shawl over my shoulders. For a moment there I looked like the perfect Makoti but the reality of it all was coming to terms with probably being Phila's Makoti.

"Sanibonani boKhumalo. (Greetings Khumalo's)" The older man greets us with so much authority in his voice that the kindness seeping through his words was unrecognizable. We greet back and are allowed to sit down. This family is huge. I notice all the brothers and all the Makoti's of this family. Some of which I've already met while it's the first time I am meeting the others. I sat there on the couch next to my mother quietly so not knowing why we are here for. Phila was not here but his scent could be smelt by anyone who paid the slightest attention to it.

It irked me out that I could smell his fragrance all around the room. It gave me no comfort but only intensified my anxiety and nerves at that given moment. I kept my eyes on my thighs as we were offered beverages which we politely declined.

"Kwenzenjani, kungani si la? (What is wrong and why are we here?)" My father asks getting straight to the problem at hand. "Ingane yethu imoshile kini manje besisacela uxolisa nje ngomdeni. (Our son has committed a blunder towards your family? for that we would like to apologize as a family.)" This spikes my attention. Does this mean Phila told his family about what happened? But why? And where is he? Shouldn't he be the one to answer for his faults rather than his entire family? "Wenzeni yena? Uyishayile futhi ingane  yam? Buhle? (And what has he done? Did he hit my daughter again?)"

I look at my father shaking my head fighting off the tears that threaten to pour out my eyes. What he did was worse than that off a beating. He scarred me for life. "Cha Mntungwa erm... ukuthi nje kube ne nxabano phakathi kwabo manje ke besicela indodakazi ixole. (No there was just a little argument between the two of them and in saying that we plead with your daughter to find it in her heart and forgive him.)" It's not as easy as they make it out to be, forgiveness that is.

My father is frustrated because the old man is speaking in riddles. A frustrated man like my father is not good at all. I watch as his left eye twitches slightly before my mother notices the same thing and lays her hand on top of his calming him down instantly. "Buhle, wenzeni lamfana? (What did the boy do?)" Now I am put on the spot in front of all these people some of which I don't even know. I breath out heavily so looking at everyone in the room then as quick as thunder my eyes land on the old man's eyes. He looks at me different from all of them. He looks at me like he knows something about me that no one else knows. He stares into my soul soothing it but leaving it scared to the core.

He just has this thing about him that makes me feel safe but scared all at the same time. "U... uhm..." I am ashamed to say it out loud. No one will ever look at me the same after this. I'm not going to fool myself into believing that I was a virgin before it happened but the way it happened broke a part of me. I feel the tears roll out of my eyes as I start bouncing my left leg up and down nervously trying to articulate the right sentence hoping that I still get to keep my dignity. "Buhle..." my father says yet again only softer while my brother wraps his arm around my waist. I take a deep breath in then lay it all out. "uPhila wangi dlwengula. He rap...raped me Baba."

After I said it I felt like the room went a few degrees colder than it originally was. The sound of a needle dropping onto the beautiful wooden floor could be heard from a mile away compared to the sickening sound of silence that dominated the room. I held my breath waiting for them to take it in but my mother already knew and so she covered her face with her hands silently crying while my father's eyes stayed on me. They didn't falter nor did they twitch, they just remained stagnant. Emotions started flooding his mind as realisation and the processing of my words finally became coherent to him. My brother's arm that was draped around me suddenly pulled me even closer as his breath caught in his throat.

The entire room was tense. I kept my eyes onto my father's  but then it became too hard to bear. I let my head drop as tears blured my vision making it impossible for me to see. I didn't know what to say and the fear of looking at his family while they judged me for this kept me crippled on my seat shaking with the unknown. I don't know what happened next but all I know is that my father wanted his head right that second. "Uphi!??? (Where is he?)" He said anger seething through his words. With every word he spoke he had this determination in his eyes that just sent me cold. I knew he was capable of it but I never wanted the confirmation that he really was. I just wanted to be the naive little girl he raised.

"You know the punishment of his deeds is death. There is no compromise. He hurt my sister and he will die whether or not you are important members of Umbutho. K'mele ajeze. (He has to he punished)" My brother said sounding even angrier than my father was. Death? Umbutho? What was happening at this very moment because I was honestly confused. My mother held me in her arms crying along with me while their voices got even more scarier. I have never seen this side of my father and brother and I never want to see it again. They looked like they could detach all their necks if given the chance to.

What is Umbutho though and why are they members there? I pondered over this question watching as my family fought for me tooth and nail something that I failed to do for myself. "Icala leli Mabaso futhi uzo jeza... ingane yami le akawona umdlalo. (This is a crime Mabaso and he will be punished for it. This is my child not a game.)" My father added shaking with anger and hate for Phila. I don't know how I feel but I know that I didn't want Phila to die. I wanted him to pay for his sins but I didn't want him to die. I wanted him to live passed seeing me heal and being ok with looking at myself in the mirror again. I wanted guilt to eat him alive. I wanted him to own up to his mistakes and accept that he had a problem.

Death was too easy for him he needed to see me being happy again, living again. He needed to see all of that right here while his head is still attached to his body and his heart is still beating. This is what I wanted. "Baba... don't kill him please..." he didn't even give me the time of day just spoke over me telling his family to prepare for a funeral because he was going to die. "Baba." He sounded serious and like he already had his death planned in his head. It scared me even more than it once did.

"Buhle hayi manje... (Not now Buhle)" my brother says without looking at me once. Do I disgust them that much that they can't look at me? Or am I just the disgrace that I think I am to them?  "Baba you can't kill him. Ngikhulelwe Baba..." if I thought the room was silent before then it just went even more silent than it was before. He turned around to look at me with his eyes bloodshot red and his hands shaking. "Kanjani Buhle? (How Buhle)" He didn't stutter, he didn't pause he just asked me the question like it was normal. I shrugged crying even more. "Ngiyaxolisa Baba. (I'm sorry Baba)" He shook his head and muttered the word 'no' over and over again then walked out leaving us in this place.

I am pregnant. It took me exactly three weeks, four days and thirteen hours to come to terms with the booming possibility of my pregnancy. I am pregnant. I wish I wasn't but I am. I am not going to punish my baby for the sins of his or her father and I will try my best to give them all the love and protection that I possibly can as a mother. The baby is mine not Phila's, but I still don't want him to die. I want him to be here when his child is born and I am not going to deny him the chance to see and raise his child but I want nothing to do with that man from today onwards.

I am done with Philasande Mabaso.