CHAPTER 3

AMANDA MOFOKENG - CELE.

I knew that if I didn't set my own terms, Mabutho might take advantage of me — so I had to act fast, even before we rested. Yes, I am his wife, but only by duty, not by choice. And that means I have to soldier on. Now I'm in the guest room. I've taken off the makoti attire, had a warm bath, and now I'm standing in front of the mirror, finishing up my night skincare routine while talking to Reneilwe on the phone.

"He owns a pair of pink shoes, Reneilwe! I told you about Moleboheng's choice in men — horrible, very horrible!"
I say, rolling my eyes as I dab moisturizer on my cheeks. Reneilwe bursts out laughing on the other end.

Reneilwe: "You're just exaggerating as usual, Monkie hle."
(You're just exaggerating as always, Monkie please.)

She laughs again, but I don't see what's funny. How can I exaggerate when the man I'm about to call "husband" wears pink shoes? But then again, Lebo never cared about looks or outfits — love was her only language.

"I don't care, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm just expressing myself, Ree. I just wish Ntate gave me a choice."
I sigh, settling back on the bed as I finish my night facial care routine.

Reneilwe: "Ke a tseba, empa o tseba seo a se etsang. Malome ha a so ka a re nyahama, Manda."
(I know, but you know what he's doing. Uncle has never disappointed us, Manda.)

She's right — Dad has never let us down. But still… I wish I was given time to think, to process, to decide what was best for me.

"Ke ne ke tseba hore le haeba nka hanyetsa, Ntate o ne a tla etsa hore se se etsahale."
(I knew that even if I disagreed, Dad would've made it happen.)
I sigh softly.

"I just wish Phumolo had fought for me… but instead, he took Dad's offer and agreed to end things so easily."

Reneilwe: "Heee, Manda…"
Her voice fades into a sigh on the other end.

I was given a month to break things off with my fiancé, but I didn't. Then my mother gave me a week — just one week before this so-called marriage — and that's when I finally told Phumolo everything. At first, he tried to fight for us… but a day later, he sent me a text:

"I am letting you go, MaMofokeng. My heart is sore, but go."

That was it. No calls. No tears. Just that one message. I was in shock — until I later found out that my father had promised to invest in his company. How ironic. We both chose something else over our love for each other.

Reneilwe: "You can't cry over spilled water, Monkie. Just continue with life."
She says after hearing me sniff quietly.

This… this is beyond me. I don't want to be here, yet I am. I love Phumolo — but I love my father more. I always try to please him, even when he does wrong things sometimes. Because I still believe… he means well.
.
.
.
I don't even remember what time I fell asleep last night. All I know is that I ended up venting to Reneilwe until my words ran out. The sun is up now, the birds are chirping—but I am still the Cele bride. Slowly, I sit up on the bed, my mind racing through the choices that led me here.

This is a life I never imagined for myself. Outwardly, I might seem like a tough cookie, unshakable, strong—but inside, I'm soft. I still wish for nothing but a wonderful love life. Mabutho is not, and will never be, the kind of man I pictured myself with. I slide off the bed and head to the shower, mentally preparing for my duties as Makoti for the week before I can return to work. One step at a time—I'll soldier on.

*

Mabutho Cele

He had already left the house. Owning a taxi business meant constant oversight, though today he'd departed a little earlier than usual.

"Ndosi," Ncanezwe interrupts his thoughts.

Mabutho hadn't slept much last night; his mind replayed MaMofokeng's words over and over. He still addresses her with respect, even after she disrespected him. How she spoke to him, telling him what she wanted instead of having a proper conversation…

"Mabutho?" Ncanezwe calls again. He's been talking, but Mabutho is far away in thought.

Mabutho: Yini, Ncanezwe?
(What is it, Ncanezwe?)

Ncanezwe: uQondisiwe ufuna ukuyovakashela uMaMofokeng, uthe angikubuze ukuthi is she around.
(Qondisiwe wants to visit MaMofokeng; she asked me to check if she's around.)

Mabutho glares at him. His brothers and their wives—now, they're going to be a problem.

Mabutho: Angazi, Nca. Akaye ayozibhekela. Awuthi ngiyi kuMkhize lapha.
(I don't know, Nca. She let her go and check for herself. Let go to Mkhize there.)

He dismisses Ncanezwe and walks away. Life had been peaceful for the past three months without a wife—but now, everything seems like it will pull him in every direction, especially a disrespectful wife who needs to be reminded of her place.