Chapter 9

IQANDA LE GROOTMAN
CHAPTER 09

ZOBUHLE ZWIDE

Today is thee day. The day I wished would never come.
I've been crying my lungs out since last night. It's only 7 a.m. and I'm wide awake—though truthfully, I never slept. Who could sleep when your whole life is about to be auctioned off?

Hands trembling, I dialed Khwezi.

"Chommie," my voice cracked, "Mama forced me into this."

"What?!" she shouted.

"Marriage negotiations are happening today."

Her gasp sliced through the phone. "No, no, no. I'll stop that. Call the police, call someone! You can't go through with this."

I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. "Khwezi, I don't know what to do…"

Before I could say more, Mama barged into my room. I dropped the call in panic.

"Uzoba umfazi onjani, wena, who sleeps till this time?" she snapped, arms folded.[what wife you will make]

I stared at her blankly, too exhausted to fight, too heartbroken to answer. Without a word, I walked past her, leaving her standing in the doorway like a shadow haunting me. The walls of this house were suffocating me—I needed air.

KHWEZI BIYELA

I was pacing up and down like a lioness trapped in a cage. My chest was tight, my mind racing. Muzi came up behind me, looking half-asleep.

"Muzi, stop," I snapped, waving my hands. "I'm trying to think."

"Ucabanga ini?" [What are you even thinking about?]

"About Zobuhle's crisis," I said, glaring at him.

He rolled his eyes. "What's there to think about? Phuma ezindabeni zabantu". [Stay out of people's business].

I froze, then shot him a deadly stare sharp enough to cut glass. He didn't flinch, but he knew I was seconds away from exploding.

"Ngicela o-key bemoto," I demanded. [Give me the car keys.]

He shrugged, unapologetic. "Babe, I'm going home today. So, sorry."

I let out a bitter laugh. So sorry? This man didn't understand—my friend's whole life was being destroyed.

"Mxm!" I grabbed my handbag with a sharp motion. If he wouldn't help me, I'd help myself. I requested an Uber,but the app stabbed me with another betrayal: estimated arrival—one hour and twenty-five minutes.

I cursed under my breath. No time. I rushed out to catch a taxi.

The only seat left was the front passenger seat. Perfect. I jumped in, shoved my bag on my lap, and immediately called Zo again.

"Zobuhle Zwide," I said, voice shaking, "don't you dare marry that moron! Don't let your mom fool you. Don't you dare let them steal your life."

The phone rang and rang. No answer. I almost screamed in frustration.

"Zo, listen to me!" I left the voicemail, my words tumbling over each other. "I'm not crazy, okay? My best friend is being forced to marry some idiot that cheated on her. She doesn't want this, and I swear I won't let it happen!"

The driver kept glancing at me, eyebrows raised, his lips twitching like he wanted to laugh.

I noticed and groaned. "Don't look at me like that! I'm not crazy. This is real."

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Angishongo lutho mina, mama," he muttered, his deep voice laced with that intimidating township charm.[ I didn't say anything.]

His smirk almost made me roll my eyes, but I had no time to entertain taxi drivers kona he is cute but I'm on my mission. My best friend's life was on the line, I was about to crash her so-called marriage negotiations.