Umbutho

Thirty-two

Thirty-two

****Unedited****

Ngithandwa ngi nje.(He loves me just the way I am.)

Questions are all that's whirling and swooping around my mind. I want to know what happened. I want to know the truth without any filters. I just want to know how it all happened and why it happened to him of all people. He said our union has been cursed far long before it happened, that they were afraid of what it'd bring forth but our creation is not detailed to what they want but what our creator has planned out for us.

The first question asked is "Why?" Why us, why did we get chosen to go through all that we're going through now? "Angazi standwasami, kodwa ngiyaxolisa. (I don't know my love but I am sorry.) " The tears that will never stop flowing are those of the child that was inside of me, growing into something phenomenal. I didn't get the chance to meet him or her. We didn't get to see them but bits and pieces of what they said was a child forming. Our child.

It doesn't matter how he or she was created but why they were created. I feel that they were created to give us warmth and peace even if it was just for a little while. I wanted to meet my baby even if it was just for a second, long enough to see them open their eyes and smile.

"Siyakhuphi? (Where are we going?)" I ask as we walk into a forest hidden behind the beauty that lies within the mountains. The dry grass keeps hinting at us reminding me that I have no knowledge of my journey. "We're going to the man that has helped me." He says, his voice deeper than normal. That could be because he's trying to contain whatever it is inside of him. "He didn't get it out." I state, silently as he holds my hand into his much bigger one. "Cha (No) that was not his intent. He just helped me keep it away from you." He glances at me quickly before averting his eyes back to the task at hand.

The rondavels around the huge yard is the first thing I see before a swarm of people are seen in red and white clothing. Beads linger around their necks, ankles and arms. They have beautiful printed clothes wrapped around their bodies. Some are blue and white while others are in red clothing. Those in red have the most number compared to the ones that are not.

It seems like we are not the only people that are here today. There are men and women sitting outside waiting to be attended to. Although they don't look bored, I would much  rather we get this over and done with. I am tired and in pain deep inside my heart. Phila notices my withdrawal and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. I look up at him giving him a reassuring smile. "Ngiyakthanda yezwa? (I love you ok?)" Today I am the first to say, he smiles at me as his eyes shimmer with hope.

We are attended to quite immediately as the one that I have come to know as a twasana(initiate) helps us into the big rondavel in the middle. We walk in hand in hand while I have a doek over my head and a skirt on. Phila has his normal clothes on only in black. He decided to allow me to mourn the loss of our child while accompanying me throughout the process. "Hawu Mfanawami. Ninjani namhlanje. Hlani hlani phela. (My son. How are you today. Sit sit)" The old man with various colour schemes of clothes says as his joy radiates from the moment we enter.

"Sawubona Baba. (Greetings)" I greet as politely as I can master putting forth the fact that I am in no mood to be around people mainly because all they do is pity me and my never ending problems. "Yebo ndodakazi. (Yes my daughter.)" Phila folds a blanket as thick as he can then helps me sit down. The pain is more bearable than it was a few days ago. He kneels right next to me not forgetting to hold my hand. "Ngizwa bathi unemibuzo ndodakazi. (I heard that you have questions my daughter.)" I have no idea where Philasande Mabaso had the time to talk to this man because he was with me since the day I got into that hospital.