Chapter 3

Lesedi arrives home from work, exhausted from a demanding day. Her RDP front door is already open as she steppes out of the local taxi. Intrigued, she knocks, and her mother's voice welcomes her. 



"Come in."

"Ma, you no longer call me when you come. Why?"

"This is my home, my yard. I've worked hard for it. Why should I ask your permission to enter my house?"

"What if I had a visitor?" 

"Here? Really?"

"Yes, Ma!"

"I'd squash that damn visitor with my bare hands. Besides, you know I don't need boys in my house."

 

Unprepared for an argument, weary from double shifts, she changes into her pajamas, ready for sleep. Her mother's scolding about not bathing before sleeping fell on deaf ears. As she warms a meal, laughter fills the house.



The next morning, she is awakened by a missed call. Tshepi, her high school friend, is on the other end. Despite six years passing since their matriculation, they communicate solely over the phone. Tshepi, an introvert, prefers this mode of communication. The call is an announcement of Mr. Zondo's passing.

"Hello my friend. How are you?"

"I'm good, Tshepi. You are calling me so early today. You have another? Oh you're so lucky my friend."

"Oh no... I wanted to ask if you've heard of Mr Zondo's passing?"

"Mr. Zondo? The English teacher?" She questions. "Yes! How come don't you know your ex passed away?" 

"Did you really have to put it that way?"

"You were the one involved with him. You should be the one telling me."

"Fine, what caused his death?"

"He was shot. I don't know why, but I'll find out at the funeral."

 "Yho! This is shocking Tshepi."

"Don’t you want to go home with me for the funeral on Thursday?"

"Eish, chomie, I'll have to talk to my mom first."

"Okay chomie, you'll update me then. Bye."



Her mother, upon learning of Mr. Zondo's death, expresses surprise and disbelief. She recounts seeing him just the previous Friday, looking healthy. As her mother prepares coffee, she can't resist delving into her daughter's personal life. 



"Are you still unlucky with boys?" she asked.

"Must we really discuss this, Mama?"

"You're young, beautiful, ambitious, and childless. Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Must we talk about this now? Shouldn't we be discussing funeral logistics?"

"So, it appears you're without a boyfriend, right?"

"Yes, Ma. You know I don't engage with boys." 

"So... Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Ma, please, let's steer away from this topic. I'm not comfortable discussing it with you."

"No, my child, don't fear telling me if you're interested in girls. I would understand."

"And who said I'm interested in girls?"

"Haibo, what exactly are you trying to convey?"

"Well... To be honest, I was initially hopeful about dating this other guy."

"Yhaaa..."

"And then it transpired that we weren't compatible. We just didn't complement each other."

"Haibo Lesedi, do you even hear yourself? You're speaking in riddles!"

"It's just a prolonged tale, Ma."

Her mother rose from her seat, opened the cupboard, and retrieved another cup. She warmed some water and prepares a cup of coffee for her.



"How many spoons should I add for you?"

"Haibo, Ma! I was going to get a coffee at work. Anyway... Two will be fine, thanks, Ma."

"So..."

"What, Mama?"

"The prolonged tale, Ntombo! I'm eager to hear the entire story."

"So, is the coffee a bribe to extract the full story?"

 

She remains silent, only offering a smile while nodding. Lesedi is aware that her mom might suggest consulting a Sangoma, Prophet or one of the muti shops. The old lady is so impatient. Unfortunately Lesedi, finished her coffee and went to shower.



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