Chapter 12

IQANDA LE GROOTMAN
CHAPTER 12

ZOBUHLE ZWIDE

The children disappeared to their rooms, but the tension in the lounge was still thick, like smoke refusing to leave the air. I didn't know what Manqoba and his wife had whispered about, but I knew one thing — I was angry. Furious.

"MakaSisonke, ngisathi ukuya kwimajongo," he said, kissing her forehead casually. [ I'm going to check my brothers]

She rolled her eyes and stormed toward the kitchen, her heels tapping sharp against the tiled floor.

Then, just like that, he turned to me. His hand brushed against mine, his lips landed on my cheeks — soft, almost apologetic. For a second, I thought he was going to say "sorry."

But instead? He winked. WINKED!

And just like that, he walked out and the roar of his car echoed down the driveway, leaving me standing there confused and fuming.

That's when she came back. The wife. Beautiful but sharp-edged. Her eyes locked on me like knives.

"How does it feel," she asked coldly, "to be a homewrecker?"

My chest tightened. "Ma'am, I thought Manqoba explained why I'm here—"

She cut me off with a bitter laugh. "Precious? You think you're precious? Hhayi, mntanami, ufana nabo bonke ononkloyi bakhe." [You're just like all his sluts.]

I swallowed hard, but she kept going.

"My advice? Run. Run before Bhovungane rips your little heart into pieces."

Yho! Logogo is going way too far.

I forced a shaky smile. "You're giving me advice? From someone too rich to admit her husband is cheating, with a2k"

SLAP!

Her palm landed hot against my cheek. Tears stung my eyes instantly. I wanted to fight back, but I was taught better than that

She spat venom. "Aren't you ashamed? Your age-mates are graduating, building careers — and you're here leeching off men's money!"

I wanted to scream. They didn't tell her? They didn't tell her I'm a qualified nurse?

But instead, she shoved something into my hands. An apron.

"Angani! You take people's men, now take the pot. Nansi imbiza, pheka!" [Here!You take people's men, now take the pot. Cook!]

I looked at the size of the pot. Hayi, it was big enough to bathe a toddler.

She left me standing there, humiliated. But I tied the apron, lit the stove, and as if God was also against me — the power went off.

Great. First day in hell.

She came back, smirking. "We have a storeroom for firewood. Go cook there."

But there was no wood, only charcoal and broken planks. And then? She handed me a live chicken.

"Ubabakhe loves it featherless," she said with a smile that was pure cruelty...I'm scared of the chicken

Still, I boiled the water, poured maize meal… and it turned into porridge. Panic rose in my chest. I added another 5 liters of maize meal, but it turned into something sticky, stiff, and lumpy. Honestly, it was giving umbhaqanga vibes.
I wanted to cry.

Instead, I pulled out my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to my best friend.

She instantly reacted with a "ha ha" and video-called me, already crying with laughter.

"Chommie, what is THAT?!" she screamed, holding her stomach.

"Awusizi, I'm in deep shit. The guy has a wife, and umngani kaSathane lowomfazi akangifuni!" [His wife is literally the devil's cousin, she hates me!]

She wiped her tears, still laughing. "Girl, at least he came to rescue you. Sihle was trash."

"Bruh, I'm not ready to be a wife. And worse? In polygamy!" I groaned.

"Polygamy is better than that idiot Sihle. And don't think I've forgiven your mom for locking me up so you could marry him."

I covered my face. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know what that woman's problem is."

She shook her head. "Forget her. Let's focus. What is this thing you cooked even called?" She laughed again.

I sighed. "I still have to pluck a chicken."

She gasped. "Chommie! You're allergic to chickens. Remember?"

"I know. Please… please bring me one. I can't even kill this thing."

She burst out laughing again, wiping her eyes. "Girl, you're finished. You're officially the village makoti!who lives in burbs"

And just like that, my nightmare became her comedy show.