CHAPTER 3 : UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER
Saturday morning, I volunteered at a local community garden, nurturing my passion for sustainability. As I watered the plants, a deep voice startled me.
"Ngempela, wena uyangibamba ukuthi ufike ekhaya?" (Truly, you're the one who makes my home feel welcoming?)
I turned to face the speaker, a handsome young man with piercing brown eyes and a bright smile.
"Ngicela ukuzoba kutheni?" (How may I address you?) I replied, intrigued.
"Ngicela ukuzoba uNgwenya," (You may call me Ngwenya) he said, offering a firm handshake.
I learned Ngwenya was 25, a successful entrepreneur, and a passionate advocate for environmental sustainability.
As we worked together, our conversation flowed effortlessly. Ngwenya shared his vision for eco-friendly businesses, and I found myself captivated.
After a few hours, Ngwenya turned to me and asked, "Kungenzani ukuthi ngikukhale ngawe esontweni?" (Would you allow me to take you out on a date?
My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever asked me out in Zulu before.
"Ngicela ukuzoba ngikukhale ngawe," (I would be honored) I replied, smiling.
Ngwenya's face lit up. "Kuzalwa kithi!" (Our meeting is blessed!
As we exchanged numbers, I felt an undeniable connection.
Later, Lerato asked about my day, and I shared the encounter. "Ore, you're glowing!" Lerato teased. "Ngwenya, huh?" I blushed. "Maybe."
Thembi texted me that evening, "Heard about Ngwenya. Good luck!"
Mpumelelo joked, "Sis, you're stealing the show with your Shakespearean charm."
I laughed, feeling hopeful.
Ngwenya's call interrupted my evening scroll through social media.
"Hey, beautiful," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.
I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest. "Hey, Ngwenya."
We chatted effortlessly, discussing everything from sustainability to our favorite books.
As the conversation flowed, I brought up my passion for feminism.
"I believe men should understand what women go through," I said. "The hormonal changes, skin problems, and insecurity that comes with our bodies."
Ngwenya listened attentively. "I agree. Women face unique challenges."
"I'm not just talking about emotional support," I clarified. "I mean physically experiencing what we go through."
Ngwenya paused, intrigued. "You mean, like simulating menstrual cramps or pregnancy?"
"Exactly," I said. "Imagine if men had to endure the same physical sensations we do during our periods or childbirth."
Ngwenya chuckled. "That's a bold idea, Ore."
"I'm serious," I insisted. "It's the only way they'll truly understand."
As a curvy girl, I'd faced body shaming and insecurity. But I'd learned to love myself.
"I want men to feel the pressure to conform to unrealistic beauty standards," I continued. "To experience the doubt and self-consciousness that comes with being a woman."
Ngwenya's tone turned thoughtful. "You know, Ore, I never thought about it that way." “ I'm glad you're listening," I said, smiling.Ngwenya's silence was palpable before he spoke. “Ore, can I ask you something?"
"Anything," I replied.
"Do you think...I could handle what you go through?" Ngwenya asked, his voice laced with sincerity.
My heart skipped a beat.
"I think you'd be surprised," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The line went silent, but I knew Ngwenya was still there, listening.
Ngwenya's suggestion caught me off guard. “Ore, I want to experience what you go through during your periods," he said. "So, I got this menstrual cramp simulator."
I burst out laughing. "You want to simulate my periods? That's...dedicated."
Ngwenya grinned. "I want to understand you better. And I promise, no complaining about cramps during basketball games."
I chuckled. "Deal."
"But seriously, Ore," Ngwenya said, "I want to support you through those days. Tell me when you're on your period, and I'll wear this simulator."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to suffer for feminism?"
Ngwenya smiled. "For you, Ore."
I smiled back, feeling seen.
As we continued talking, Mpumelelo walked into the room.
"Sis, who's got you giggling?" he asked.
"Ngwenya," I replied.
Mpumelelo's eyes widened. "The Shakespearean smooth-talker?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, the menstrual cramp simulator enthusiast."
Mpumelelo burst out laughing. "That's a new one."
Ngwenya chimed in, "Hey, someone's got to break the period stigma."
Mpumelelo grinned. "You're a true feminist, Ngwenya."
I playfully hit Mpumelelo. "Don't tease."
Ngwenya's voice turned serious. "Ore, I want to learn more about feminism. Recommend some books."
I smiled, impressed. "Start with 'The Feminine Mystique' by Betty Friedan."
Ngwenya nodded. "Consider it done."
As we wrapped up the call, I realized Ngwenya was more than just a charming entrepreneur
He was an ally.
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