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7
7A WEEK LATER
THE MALEKA HOUSEHOLD
The yard buzzes with life as both people and animals go in and out of the premises after Itu’s burial ceremony has passed. From all the relatives that attended only one aunty remains, an aunty from her father’s side. All her maternal relatives have left. Boipelo sits looking lifeless and still in shock and disbelief that they just buried her daughter. The lump on her throat does not seem to want to go down, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger by the day. Her eyes have sunk, and her skin looks bad, her appetite has been very poor for the whole week but better than the early days. Someone would think she’d brighten up after receiving a large sum of condolence money from the church, but no, she’s still numb.
Kutlwano: I can not lie and say I feel your pain, I have never lost a child, but I can relate because I have lost someone too. It may not be the same, but I get it, just a little bit how you feel.
Boipelo: thank you. I don’t know what else to say. I really appreciate the support. I did not expect anyone to come to see Itu off after her father disappeared into thin air, but you being here means a lot. I am grateful.
Kutlwano: what my brother did to you is unfair and my being here doesn’t even begin to compensate it. You were always too good for him; he lost a gem.
Boipelo: it’s nice hearing such words. To be honest, I was a fool too for loving him.
Kutlwano: your words not mine, but yes~ maybe you were.
They both chuckle. Kutlwano observes her smile, and something tings in her heart. She’s a little relieved to see her smile has not faded away. She looks at her one more time and smiles to herself standing up.
Kutlwano: I’m gonna make us some tea.
Boipelo: thank you, make mine green tea. There’s probably some Rooibos green tea somewhere in the cupboards.
Kutlwano: alright.
Kutlwano leaves the bedroom for the kitchen feeling much better now after her attempt to serve tea was not declined. Things are about to get better, and she can’t be more happier. Boipelo is one strong woman, and she deserves the world’s best according to her.
ITUMELENG’S ROOM
Reitu wakes up from a nap surprised she was talking in her sleep. She looks around and the room is empty with a cold breeze coming in through the window. She stands up to go close the window then sits back down on the bed. the little dream was about Itu, she was laughing and smiling in the dream on a good summer’s day, but her death still feels unreal. She still can’t believe she won’t have anyone to manipulate for data money anymore. Either way dreaming of her was good and a little gave her a little bit of comfort. Her phone vibrates from under the pillow. She retrieves it and checks, it’s message from an unknown number. She reads the message but ends up getting more confused by its contents. A phone call comes through from the same number and she picks up immediately.
[on call]
Reitu: hello?
Voice: Mrs. Maleka, is that you?
Reitu: Mrs.? what? No--- what crazy dumbhead are you again?
Voice: okay… excuse me, I am looking for Mrs. Boipelo Maleka and clearly, I called the wrong number. I apologize, have a nice evening.
Reitu: wait--- this is Mrs. Boipelo Maleka’s daughter… and what creep are you? What do you want with my mother?
Voice: oh, I did not know. I ma not a creep. I am a detective, I met with your mother when she visited the police station, and I ended up requesting her contact number because there some things I wanted to run past her.
Reitu: now you sound way creepier… so, you’re the douchebag who told her about the 48-hour waiting time bull crap. Any who, what are you doing with a married woman’s number? What’s your business?
Voice: I apologize for the treatment your mother suffered but I was not the one who was taking her statement, I just happened to overhear the conversation and offered help. That’s all.
Reitu: boring…why do you have reasoning for everything?
Voice: I was just answering your questions, nothing odd there.
Reitu: got that. So, what things did you want to run through my mother? Run them through me now and don’t bother her--- tell me.
Voice: I would like to ask you to visit the police station as soon as you’re available.
Reitu: okay, tomorrow!
Voice: okay… see you then, Ms. Maleka.
Reitu: alright…Mr?
Voice: oh, my name is Kwanele Dikana, Detective Dikana… you can ask for Det. Dikana when you come visit tomorrow.
Reitu: alright…
[call ends abruptly]
THE POLICE STATION
Kwanele puts the phone down a little appalled how the person on the other hand ended the call even though she wasn’t the one who made it. He smiles to himself and gets back to cross referencing the information on the folders in front of him. He has been carrying these and literally feeding his brain on them for the past week. Ms. Gina, also detective enters the office without knocking and gets to her desk, turns on the computer and starts clicking very loudly.
Kwanele: your habits are… very very hard to get used to. Didn’t they teach you how to knock at home? And what academy taught you computer lessons? You type very loudly…
Gina: I was taught how to knock, but I just don’t do it to annoy you, same as my typing.
Kwanele: wow... and you wonder why I try to change the person I share my office with every time…
Gina: you’re so funny.
Kwanele: whatever.
Gina: those files, they look old--- what have you been reading, you look very fuelled and enthusiastic, is whatever you’re reading that interesting?
Kwanele: to me it is…
Gina: whoa, that can only mean trouble.
Gina stands up from her chair and goes to Kwanele’ s desk. She scans through the documents he’s reading, and her face goes sour. She sighs out loud and rubs her face in frustration.
Gina: why do you have those?
Kwanele: because I want to uncover the truth.
Gina: what truth?
Kwanele: you seriously can’t be asking that right now. Are you for real?
Gina: I am. You worry me. Do I have to remind you what happened the last time you went through those files. You hit a brick wall and almost got admitted to a psychiatric hospital because they drove you mad. Are you seriously willingly trying to go back to that dark place again? Kwanele, don’t do this.
Kwanele: for your information, I have never had a good rest after that incident. I blamed myself for being incompetent and not being able to find out what happened to my sister! S, please don’t try and stop me, I’ve already made up my mind. I will find the truth and I won’t ask for any favours from anyone. So, please let me be.
Gina: how can I not worry Kwanele? You’re going through case files from years ago like something new will come up. This is not going to change anything, and you know that. It’s not like a new lead will magically appear. You’re working too hard to indict people on assumptions, rumours and your gut feeling. Why can’t you let this be, huh?
Kwanele: I am not expecting you to understand anything. My sister died working for those damned people. She lost her life because of that damned cult disguised as a church. I will burn The Holy Grail Ministries to the ground if I must! I am not giving up on my sister again!! I am not going to let the enemy win again!! I am not going to let those people live comfortably while they corrupt and murder people.
Gina: do you have any evidence for your claims?
Kwanele: I will find evidence! So, please if you can’t use that energy to root for me, just sit back and act like you didn’t see anything.
Gina: wow…don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Kwanele: I won’t.
Gina goes back to her seat feeling a little down and defeated. She knows the guy and when he’s fixated on something, he never lets it go until he sees it through. She just hopes that he don’t get hurt in any way on the way to ‘uncovering the truth’.
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