Chapter 11 (Day and Night)
I was happy, those were the happiest days of my entire life. I loved his home. I loved Tiger. Henry and Funani would attend the wedding.
I threw all inhibitions and caution to the wind. I was ridiculously in love, with him, with life, the farm, the smells. The blue mountains. I was home.
We needed to set a date, but I think we got lost in each other. We would go for long walks. My health improved. Inkosi insisted I see the doctor every two weeks. I dug into the archives and I stared speaking his language again. I didn’t want a maid. We had quite the spat about that topic, it was our first real spat. It ended in bed, as all spat’s should.
He was amazing. He worked from sunup. He was as strong as an ox.
We made love everywhere, knowing all too well, we might be discovered or, well, that’s’ Zululand. One is never ‘alone’. The river became our spot. The sand was so soft, and it brought back memories of a time when we fought, not physically, hypothetically against our own feelings, his traditions, my beliefs. And above all else, what the government had dictated to be Laws.
We would wash I haste, and get dressed. All the time in the sun had not done much to darken my skin. I was a walking illuminator. One couldn’t see Inkosi on a moonless night.
He had become darker in the years on his farm. I revelled in it. It made him so attractive. I would pinch myself not to show him any affection when his labourers were around. Now they frowned on this union. They respected Inkosi, but I know they had many misconceptions about me. These men, didn’t know us in our youth, they didn’t know how long this had stretched on for, what we endured, how many times life had pulled us apart. I cannot say what they thought of me. I do know, if Inkosi left me alone in his house, our house. I would be in danger.
I had changed the storeroom into a bedroom for Henry and Funani. It was wonderful to have them here. The weather was fantastic. They swam in the river most of the time. I had no other family. So Henry filled in as my entire family. He accepted the labola from Inkosi for appearances.
One of the maidens helped me get dressed in her family home. My veil was made of beads, she tied fringes of oxtail around my knees and elbows. A goat-haired necklace was tied around my neck. I wore a traditional isidwaba around my waits, and a isicwaya around my breasts. I did not carry a knife, because I wasn’t a virgin. I walked out of the maiden’s home, I didn’t look back, as per tradition, I kept my eyes on Inkosi’s house. She placed a blanket over my shoulders.
After the ceremony, well just before it, a goat is sacrificed to the ancestors so they would be informed of the impending nuptials.
Funani surprised me when he stood up and sung, Umakhoti ngowethu. The song signified that I now belonged to the groom’s family. When we arrived home, I walked around the house, so that the ancestors could look at me with acceptance.
It was as traditional as we could go, under the circumstances. I bathed and changed, while the feast was in full swing. Inkosi was taking me to Umhlali for the night.
He had rented a hut from an acquaintance it was stunning, I have often been inside one, but Inkosi had added a few luxuries to this one. We took a walk along the beach. I stopped and looked at him.
I can still feel the warm sand between my toes, some memories are worth holding onto.
“If you don’t take me back to the hut right now, I will seduce you right here on this darn beach.”
He held me for a long time. “Finally. I never thought I would live to see this day.”
I gazed up at him, he had his arms wrapped around my waist.
“Neither did I.”
He turned me, so I could face him. “I wish…”
I placed my finger to his lips. He bit it. “No regrets Inkosi. We made it this far, don’t bring the past in. I am happy, I am very-very happy.”
He kissed me. “I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted me. that I wish Mama was alive. She is happy today, I would have loved to see you walk out of her home.”
“I know, I cannot say the same about my father, as much as he accepted. I don’t think he would have imagined things to progress this far. I do know I was blessed today. I need to say this; I am sorry I cannot give you a child.”
“I had children, I have a son. You have a son, all they do is make one worry, I am happy to grow old with you, it’s all I ever wanted.”
I kissed his neck, his chest and his abdomen, then I went lower. He sat up. “Don’t do that, you don’t have to do that.”
I didn’t move. “I am going to, and then if you really want to, we can talk.”
He lay rigid at first. I think the man was terrified. Oh pay back, I finally have the upper hand, or more on the nose, the upper mouth.
I didn’t do it to shame him, I did it because I loved him, it was the most natural thing in the world.
We didn’t say a world, when I heard him breathing, my confidence grew, amongst other things. He was spent. He lay on his back with his eyes closed.
“Husband?” He opened on eye and looked at me. “Damn.” I smiled. He bit his lip. “Do you know what it feels like?”
“No, husband I don’t have a penis.” Oh I got the look, I had a little giggle, I thought it was funny.
Inkosi sat up. “Do you want to know?’ He knew about my past. I had thrown that part of my past away. “Yes, I think we can try, if I feel uncomfortable, I’ll pat you on the shoulder.”
Yeah, that did not come to pass. It was pure magic. We were so aroused, we coupled again, I went on top, my new found dominance was paying off. I think we took our love making to a whole new level. Now that we are married, I wanted to experiment. I knew he was willing to try. It’s not like it could hurt him.
We turned that hut upside down. It was a memorable evening. We were tired when we arrived home. I bathed, he joined me, I have to admit I didn’t expect him to. He is set in his ways.
We washed each other. The washcloths were long forgotten; it had become an erotic game. He had to run out to refill the bucket a few times. Eventually the soap was forgotten. Just hands, water and bodies. I didn’t think we could reach a new high, nevertheless we sure did in that bath room, even the mirror had steamed up.
He picked me up, and laid me on the bed. “I want to see you.” I don’t know what the look on my face was, he laughed. “Now who’s bashful.”
“Just remember husband, two can play this game.”
As hard as we worked, we played even harder. We were free, married, and we were home. I cannot say when Henry and Funani left. I was on cloud nine, and I never wanted to come down. He was different, he would kiss my neck when he walked past me, or he’d grab my bottom.
It all led either to the couch, the table or the tiles.
Harvest time was near, the sugarcane was set on fire, so enhance its sweetness. I was hanging washing, I inhaled the sweet sticky air all around me.
I looked up at the mountain, then down to the river. I had a marvellous view up on this hill. I watched the trucks drive down to the Mill. I was about to take my basket inside when one of the labourers blocked my way.
He was a giant of a man. “Uzog Bhebha wena.” I didn’t understand what he said, when he turned to leave, he called me a word I do understand. “Golo.”
I cried, and he laughed at me, he taunted me, when I tried to walk past him, he would block my way, and call me ‘Golo.”
I was trying to reason with him, he was making fun of me. He told me in his tongue, that I didn’t belong with a Chief, and that I should watch my back. What’s good for the Chief, is good for his men.
When he left I bathed and locked the doors. Inkosi just about took the door off the hinges to get inside
I was hiding in the bath room; I had been sobbing for hours. I know we need to replace the door.
“Woman, what happened are you sick?” I held on to him and I sobbed.
“Inkosi, he said…he said.” I swallowed and I sobbed. I was really afraid.
Who? Who said what to you, woman?’ He had been calling me that since the day we got married.
“Words I didn’t understand; he wouldn’t let me past him. He said, Uzog Bhebha wena, and he called me Golo. He said, the Chiefs men can have what belongs to him.”
I have never seen Inkosi so angry. “Do you know his name?”
“No, I don’t speak to your men.”
“Show me who he is.”
“I am too scared Inkosi.”
Inkosi pulled me to my feet. “For your honour you need to show me who this man is.”
I walked outside holding onto Inkosi. I was terrified, they would fight each other.
The culprit was sitting on the tractor. Inkosi looked at me. “The one on the tractor?”
I nodded, I wasn’t about to point a finger. I went back inside, and looked at my crooked front door.
Inkosi was screaming at the man. He walked back into the house, took an assegai off the wall and walked back out. Other men were fixing the door.
I went to our bedroom and closed the door. I know Inkosi killed him. What the backlash will be, I honestly don’t know.
I felt afraid, a foreboding hung in the air, not that I ever felt a reprieve. No not in my lifetime.
I was folding the washing when the police arrived. I stayed in the bedroom. There were one white and two men of colour, I watched as they passed my window.
The white officer was calm, he asked many questions. When Inkosi repeated in Zulu what was said to me, the other officers told Inkosi in Zulu, that if he was alive, they would have killed him.
The white officer asked if he could speak to me. I sat next to Inkosi, after I formally greeted the officers sitting on the mustard coloured couches.
“Ma’am I need a formal statement. Can you tell me word for word what was said?”
I told him I was hanging washing, when the man appeared behind me. I narrated in Zulu, and the officers translated. Both appalled that such words had been spoken. The white officer shook his head in disgust.
He looked at Inkosi. “Any witnesses to the, misunderstanding?”
“No, he was the last one to leave, he was bringing the tractor in for the night, he is new here. My other men’s fathers, knew each other. I took him on because he was a Zulu.”
The white officer nodded.
“Where is the body?”
“Still on the tractor, if it hasn’t fallen off.”
“Ma’am, please close the door behind us.”
They left, I bathed, changed, washed more clothes, hung that out, I cooked. Once dinner was ready, did Inkosi return home. I could see he had bathed and changed.
“The white cop, well he is a good man. The man that accosted you, had an accident. Tractor. I don’t ever want to discuss this again Nichole, come here.”
I didn’t cry, I was all cried out. “Can we eat?’ Inkosi nodded. We ate in silence.
He put his fork down. “Do you blame me?” I looked up at Inkosi.
“Blame? For what?”
“For killing him? I could have beaten him with a stick. But I was so angry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, Inkosi I don’t blame you. You did what you believed was the right thing to do.”
He nodded. I am not sure where he went. I brought the washing in, and cleaned the kitchen.
It was dark when he arrived home. He was about to close the door, when five men attacked him.
“Nichole, go and hide, run.” They had knobkerries and machetes in their hands.
I hid in the closet. I could hear them fight.
As long as I heard Inkosi’s voice, I hoped he would make it out alive.
It was so loud for so long, and then the next second utter silence. I went to the lounge. It was a mess. Inkosi sat on the floor, covered in blood, I couldn’t tell if it was his or the other men’s.
“Inkosi?” He looked up at me. “I didn’t kill them, I only reminded them who their Chief is.”
I stepped over the blood. “Are you hurt?” He looked up at me.
“Yeah, I think so.” I was visibly shaking.
“Inkosi, were are you hurt?”
He lifted up his head, he had been leaning his head against his arm.
The hilt of a machete protruded out of his chest. I ran, I can’t remember if I had shoes on, I fetched the doctor.
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