Today I am getting discharged and I will be stepping into another phase of my life.
"Is everything sorted out?" Arnold says as he peeps into my room, where I had been
left to change.
"Yeah, everything is done." I respond faintly, my voice lacking the vibrancy that it's
supposed to have. My voice is hoarse and low most probably, It's all the screaming
that I had done a few weeks back.
"So, let's get going. Today I will have to spend half the day with you guys and travel
back to Bulawayo by tomorrow. The leave days that I have taken have unfortunately
elapsed as of today." He says.
"If only you had taken a bit more leave days. I really need you here to help out with
the logistics." I sulk.
"As if I am a parent myself." Arnold mocks me as we head to the car.
"You might not be a parent as of yet but you were the one who looked after
Simangaliso during his infancy." I point out.
"Mother took care of that part but I know a few tips that I could teach you. The rest
you would have to call mah to help out. In fact, why don't you come home to show
them the baby?" he reasons.
"I really wish I could but then, it's a school term and the boys are alone. I can't leave
them alone, I would be sure asking for disaster,"
"The boys can handle themselves. Speaking of the boys, who is the coloured guy with
dreadlocks. Simangaliso said something about him being his brother." Arnold
questions curiously as we get into the car.
"Yes, Cameroon is Simangaliso's brother." I respond.
"From Simangaliso's father or he is an extended family member?" Arnold questions
in curiosity.
"No. Cameroon and Simangaliso have different fathers but have me as their mother."
I respond.
"But Cameroon looks old. That boy is old enough to be Tariro's age or a bit older.
Even his body is a testimony to his age." Arnold points out.
"He just has a big body but he is twenty years old."
"Then how come I don't know about him? I mean, if he is twenty, this means you had
him at sixteen. And I don't remember you being pregnant or dropping out of school.
Except for the one week after the exams, when you stayed away from home." Arnold
says as he tries by all means to put his mathematics together. Of which he won't be
able to do so that easily.
"It's a really complicated story but I will tell you just because I trust you. But please,
don't go around spilling the beans. I will tell them everyone when the time is right."
I warn him, perfectly aware of what Arnold can say when he is over excited or drunk.
"I promise. Now tell me about it" he probes. I fall silent for a few moments before I
tell him about what transpired twenty years back for me to have a son and how it all
happened.
"The things you do really scare the hell out of me. To think that you could be capable
of such." Arnold says in shock.
"I had my reasons you know. First of all, the baby's father had abandoned the
pregnancy and refused ever having a hand in its making. Secondly, the pregnancy
meant a major interference with my scholarship, I could have been dismissed from
that God-sent-ticket of luck and thirdly, our parents would have murdered me in
cold blood for falling pregnant at sixteen." I say.
"So how did the boy find you then?" Arnold questions.
"Your big mouthed sister Miriam made that possible by blabbering every detail to
Chris Evans and he traced me down to as far as my office and he brought along
Cameroon. He left no room for me to refuse or have a say about meeting Cameroon."
I say…..just the thought of what my sister did drives me nuts! If it were possible, I
would get a sharp weapon and cut that big mouth of hers that has sucked a man's
dick so much that it can't even close even when it is most required to do.
I am really shocked. But on the other hand, this explains why Cameroon looks
wickedly like you. at first I thought he was a tom boy but his voice and physique
proved otherwise." Arnold says.
"Don't you think it shocked me to see him for the very first time in twenty years? I
couldn't point out where I had seen his features from but then now that I stay with
him, I noticed that it's like staring at a masculine reflection of myself." I say.
"Your looks are really contagious. They even spilled over to Simangaliso. When
Simangaliso was a baby, most people thought he was a girl. Luckily, his voice was
more masculine even though he is a child." Arnold says.
"That's the only mark I have on those children. Their complexion and gender screams
something else. But then, luckily, I have gotten myself a daughter." I say as I look at
Astrid, wrapped in a pink blanket, sleeping peacefully. I really can't wait to see her
eyes. I hope they look like mine.
"Be careful of getting a clone of yourself. I am sure you are aware that they tend to
become worse than you are." Arnold says as he looks at me through the view mirror.
"I really pray that isn't the case."
"So, tell me. Do you have a names in mind?" Arnold questions as a manipulative
smile creeps up his face.
"No. not yet. And besides, it's not yet seven days. You will have to wait for the naming
ceremony." I say.
"Then, that gives me time short list a few names." Arnold says as the manipulative
smile grows wider.
"You're such a schemer! I will think about it." I say to him....
Motherly love fills my heart as I stare at the sleeping infant in the coat-bed. Arnold
and Simangaliso seem equally dazed by how peaceful and innocent the baby is. A
bright light goes flash, flash and flash. We all look up to see what caused the flashes
and there standing in front of us is Cameroon, carrying a camera and taking pictures
of the mesmerized people who are staring at a sleeping baby.
After a few more pictures, we then tip-toe back to the living room, slowly and softly
closing the door behind us.
"I want those pictures." Arnold says to Cameroon.
"Okay, I will send them to you via your email or via Social media."
"Your mother know my email address, so she will give it to you. Look guys, I have to
leave. I am heading back to Bulawayo. Gentlemen, don't kill my sister and please
take care of the little angel. Cameroon please help out where you can. If you guys let
her do all the work, the frustration will be on another level and she is not as nice and
pretty when she is frustrated."
"Come on Arnold, I can handle pressure. Just tell the boys not to trouble me. One
thing for sure, I can't handle three babies single handed." I say as I sulk dramatically.
"Simangaliso, you are now grown up. Next year, you are going to the fourth grade,
so please don't trouble your mother. Don't be a little cry baby. Okay?"
"Okay." Simangaliso responds.
"Do you promise not to trouble your mother?"
"I promise." Simangaliso says as he extends his little finger to Arnold and they hook
their little fingers together.
"Now that's a good boy. Cameroon, don't forget to send those pictures. Take care of
yourself too, don't trouble my sister and Maria, we expect you home sometime soon.
Especially for the festive season." Arnold says as he picks up his travelling bag on
one of the sofas.
"Arnold, I am the one who is supposed to be giving you the orders since I am the
older one. Anyway, please travel safely and greet everyone at home." I say to him as
I walk him to the door.
"Alright, take care." Arnold says as he walks out of the door, heading to his car.
I am left to the house and these children. You know, life is very strange. I mean, who
would have thought that at some point, I would be a mother to three children, with
absolutely no husband and not even hopes of marriage. Who would think that at
some day, I would be a sit-in mother, nursing an infant for a very long three months?
And now comes the thing that gives me a head ache whenever I think about it- breast
feeding. I know that babies should be breastfed for a good six months but then this
shitty process is fuckin' painful! I mean, I have been breastfeeding for two days and
already my tits are swollen, reddish in color and fuckin painful! Even when the
fabric of cloth touches them, I feel like screaming. And then there is the issue of
having large flaccid, dangling breasts just because of breast feeding! Now that does
not sit well with me. I mean, I am thirty six and my breasts have been very succulent,
with rigid pointy tits, I can't have them destroyed now. So I have decide to win off the
baby.
Today is the seventh day of the baby's birth and I will be driving to Bulawayo to see
my family members and officially introduce my daughter to the family. And there is
this naming ceremony.
"Boys, has everything been packed into the car. I don't want anyone to cry foul when
we have arrived at our destination."
"We have packed everything." Cameroon responds.
"Alright fine, let's get going. I don't want to arrive late." I say to the boys as I pick up
the baby bag and my hand bag. After that I lock up the house and we drive off to
Bulawayo. Simangaliso and Cameroon are sitting at the rear seats of the car, with
Cameroon delicately cradling the baby in his arms. He really has been helpful with
this crying machine of mine.
When I get tired of being on the wheel, Cameroon takes the drivers' seat and I take
the rear seats with Simangaliso and the baby. We get to Bulawayo at around three
thirty in the afternoon and I direct Cameroon to Matsheumhlope.
When we get home, everyone is present except for Miriam and her family. It seems
like she has a really pressing issue because no matter what, Miriam never skips
family events…. We are warmly received by the family, everyone investing their
attention on the baby, until Tariro whisks me to the kitchen.
"And what is Cameroon Evans doing here? Don't tell me that he is the father!" she
says as she looks at me with her eyes wide open in absolute curiosity and shock.
"No! Cameroon is not the father! Where the hell is that coming from?"
"Well, the two of you are not related in any way but you brought him to a family
gathering. Now that raises a gazillion questions and sets the alarm bells jingling."
"In the first place, how do you know Cameroon?" I question in curiosity.
"Maria, I learnt at the same school with that idiot. When I was in upper six, he was
in form one. That's the kid I once told you about. The kid me who wrote one hell of a
love letter that stated among other things that he would screw me so hard and good,
I would lose my mind and I would have multiple orgasms every time I thought about
him" – Now that shocked me to the bones but from Cameroon's behavior with
women, I am in absolutely no place to object.
"Now that's something to remember." I say to Tariro.
"Don't you think it took me aback? That letter shocked me speechless. I couldn't
even meet up with Cameroon to tell him personally that I am not hi age. I had to use
a close friend to give him a piece of her mind. Now moving on, what is the connection
between the two of you?" Tariro probes.
"He is my son."
"Come on, get a better story than that one....don't tell me that, that boy is your ben
ten!" Tariro accuses, her eyes wide open in absolute open in absolute shock.
"No! I don't do younger men! And besides, Cameroon really is my son. He is my first
born son."
"But he is a little too old to be your son and how come we don't know of him. We
didn't even see the pregnancy in the first place." Tariro protests.
"You didn't know that I was pregnant with Simangaliso until the day I sent him home.
Cameroon's story is rather complicated. I will tell you guys when the atmosphere has
settled. Now let's get cooking. We have a lot of cooking to do." I say to Tariro and we
start cooking. As we are still cooking, Miriam enters the kitchen, dressed in a two
piece suit and heels.
"I am sorry I am late. What are we cooking?" she asks as she takes an apron from
behind the kitchen door and from her pocket, she takes a hair net and covers her
thick mass of curls.
"It sure was a hectic day. Someone is even failing to say 'hello' to us." I mock her,
causing her to turn and look at me with a plain stare and she gives me a short-lived
weak smile, which I really know contradicts her thoughts.
"Good day ladies. Now let's stop wasting time on petty talk. We have hungry stomachs
to feed. Now let's get going." Miriam says as she busies herself.
In no time, the meal had been served and we were eating. After supper, Tariro and I
get down to washing dishes as Miriam is busy with the baking this weekend, I am
driving down to Bulawayo for the naming ceremony and officially introducing the
baby to my family members. We drive to Bulawayo early in the morning. Cameroon
and I, share the driving. I drive for the first half of the journey whilst he is sitting at
the back with the baby and Simangaliso. For the other half, he is the one by the
steering wheel and I am at the back with the younger ones. We get to Bulawayo a bit
late as we delayed along the road. I mean, we were passing through a number of
cities and so we would stop, buy some food from food outlets, take a few pictures,
stretch our legs and after that, it's back to the road.
And also preparing tea for the rest of us. Tariro walks out of the kitchen to go and
set the table and later on, serve the tea. Miriam and I are left in the same room. There
is a thick emotion pregnant silence in the room. Miriam busies herself with the plates
and I am busy with myself, talking to the girls. For some minutes were like this until
Miriam breaks the silence.
"I don't know whether or not this sisterly relationship that we share means a thing
to you, but to me, it means everything. I sometimes cry at night when I think about
the situation between us, because it hurts so badly. Maria please, let's drop this act.
I really miss you and the good times we used to share. I really wish to revive that
sweet bond that created sentimental memories. Of course, I am living a good life but
I am not happy, I have never been completely happy since we were sixteen. Our rift
still eats at me. Sometimes the over thinking gets so intense, my blood pressure
spikes immensely. Last month I had a miscarriage, but I don't blame it on anyone,
not even you but then...." Miriam exhales and then goes silent. The silence is filled
with so much pain. My heart shatters when I see tears in her eyes. I can see that her
rapid blinking is because she is trying to stop them from falling but the get the best
of her. When the first tear falls, I wince in pain but she quickly wipes it off with the
back of her hand.
A hollow stomach feeling arises in my stomach and tears tickle my eyes, causing my
nose to itch. I mean, she miscarried because of all the stress. Even though she does
not blame me for it, it still beats me. Because one thing for sure, I am the main
reason for the miscarriage. A thousand thoughts cloud my mind and all the guilt
tears at me, causing the tears in my eyes to fall….
For years I have ignored the fateful events of the day I came back from the mini
mission-based get away, I had taken after my O'level examinations. When I came
back from home, she questioned me about my whereabouts and she wanted clear
detail but I told her to mind her own business. See, my sister is someone who believes
in trust and if you want to cut her out of your life, keep secrets. So when I refused
to tell her, she threatened to cut our sisterly bond and that meant we would be
complete strangers to each other. One thing for sure, I couldn't disclose my secret to
her so I told her to cut the bond. From that minute on wards, we became total
strangers. Completely ignoring each other and not helping the other. Of course it was
painful to live like this, especially when she started working, because she was the
first to get employed. I couldn't ask for money or any kind of help even though I
desperately needed it because by then, I was still in university, under a scholarship
that provided basic needs for me and yet I had greater needs. When she got married,
I had to hear about the marriage from my parents, she didn't even bother to tell me.
Later alone tell me that she had a boyfriend who had come to pay lobola for her. On
her wedding day, I wasn't part of the bride's maids. Tariro took up the role of maid
of honor, instead of me. When it was time for pictures, she took pictures with every
family member individually, except for me. When she had children, she didn't invite
me to come and see them or later alone, speak about me naming them. She has never
invited me to her house, she has never came to mine. She totally forgot about me.
Till this day, I have never seen the interior of the law firm she works in. She
completely cut me off her life. When she said it, I thought she was joking and that it
would soon blow out but no, I was dealing with someone who stands by her word
and on the other hand, I had a secret I had to keep and did not intend to spill. Things
were really complicated...
I clear my throat and I wipe my tears before speaking.
"Honestly, I also don't like the rift between us. And today, I have decided to come
clean because I want my sister back. Life has been really tough without you. There
are so many things that I would like to tell. So many things that need your expertise
but first of all, the problem that's been separating us all along is that boy Cameroon
Evans."
"what do you mean?" Miriam questions in confusion.
"he is what I was hiding all along. When I disappeared for a week after the
examinations, I was pregnant and I stayed with a friend until I gave birth and after
that, I decided to take the baby to Chris Evans."
"No wonder Chris Evans was always up my ass trying to gather some information
about you!"
"yeah." I say, at the same time exhaling in exhaustion. At least my biggest secret has
finally been set loose.
"I really hope there are no more secrets after this one because, I can't bare secrecy
and the rift." Miriam says.
"No, there are no more secrets. That's if we promise each other some transparency
and above all, not to go around spilling each other's private businesses, unless and
until, one is requested to do so."
"Its fine with me as long as you will be honest enough to answer the set of questions,
I have in store for you." Miriam says as she settles down at the kitchen table, opposite
me. Now she is using her advocate skills to question me. It's gonna be one hell of a
session.
"Is Simangaliso's father a married man?" Miriam asks in absolute concern.
"Well, he was when we met but not anymore. He is now a divorced man."
"Let's hope you were not the cause of the divorce." Miriam says.
"No. absolutely no! The thing is, I met him here in Bulawayo, eight years ago, when
he was here for some boys' day out and I was here for a semester break. Apparently,
we made out in his car and we parted ways. All along, he didn't know that I had a
son until Simangaliso's incident."
"And how did he find out?" Miriam questions, arching her brow in emphasis of the
question.
"Simangaliso had lost a lot of blood and he needed a blood donor. The hospital had
run out of his blood type, so Antony offered to donate….alright, let me tell you the
whole story so that you get almost every answer that you are looking for." I say to
her. I then tell her the whole story from Cameroon to Simangaliso and later on to the
new born baby. Strangely, I remember everything clearly.
"And so, what are you going to do with your white man because one thing for sure,
he wants to be part of Simangaliso's life."
"As if he was part of it from the word go. It's not like Simangaliso is impoverished or
something." I protest.
"That's what every parent does. Look at you, after twenty years of lurking in the
shadows, you still want to be part of Cameroon's life."
"Well, one thing for sure, that was not the master plan. Chris pushed the boy to me."
I point out.
"And now that the motherly instinct has connected, I guarantee you, you won't sit
by and watch is Chris decides to restrict Cameroon from seeing you."
"Well, there you are correct. But in my case, I am justified. I mean Antony is bedding
his brother's fiancé, who happens to be Simangaliso's teacher."
"now that's a reason and a half to restrict him from your spheres but not from his
kids and besides, you disappeared from his life, so he had to act in your absence,
which I bet, he thought would be forever." Miriam points out.
"Miriam, my absence does not give him the right to entertain himself with his
brother's wife-to-be. And worse off, in my presence."
"I will not take sides because to some extent the two of you are wrong. On the other
hand, this idiot might be the rightful man for you. After having an erotic adventure
with the other woman, he still remembers your presence. Now that's a good idiot."
Miriam says.
"Absolutely not! I know I haven't been a good girl but I don't deserve that white man
as a husband. No! He sure is trouble and I just don't want trouble in my life.
Especially with three children and thirty-six years to my name." I protest.
"As you stated before, you are thirty six and with three children. Two of which are his.
And unfortunately, you don't have black children, you have coloreds. No man will
look at you under the first two terms, as they would conclude that you are one hell
of an expensive woman to look after. To add to your problems, you are independently
rich and highly educated. Now that will send men fleeing in all directions." Miriam
reasons.
"It's not about the money. I can take care of myself and the children without even
putting a dent on my bank account."
"And that's another major problem. Men fear independent women because they know
that we can't be easily controlled. Which means that your white man is really
accommodative."
"Of course, what do you expect? I mean, he is white. His people have shown us very
crude things about their acceptances. What I am avoiding about all this, is his family.
My last encounter with them was an experience in hell. Apparently, I am the first
black woman to be introduced to them and the idea of having a black woman as part
of them, did not sit well with them." I reason.
"Maria, families have expectations from their children. Even from your side of the
family, your white man will be required to pay lobola like all other men and I bet it
would freak everyone else to find out that your baby-daddy is a white man. We all
had an impression that he is some colored." Miriam reasons.
"Unfortunately, He really is white and boy, do I regret ever meeting that idiot. You
know, my life was much better when I was a single mother. Everything happened
after careful planning and no one dared to interfere with my plans."
"Well, you were a lot tenser back then. I now sure believe in the sex-fixes-things
theory. Even though it's strangely does not work with me." Miriam says.
"I thought I was the only one. Dick does not control my mind. If I am in a bad mood,
no matter how much screwing I get, I wake up in the same foul mood, until I say
something."
"I have been forever accused of toning down my husband's body because I talk too
much." Miriam confesses. To say I am surprised would be a white faced lie. I know
what my sister is capable of doing verbally and if cornered –physically.
"Now that we have reconciled, I will manipulate the situation to my advantage. I want
to be the first one to name the baby." Miriam says, an expensive smile plastered on
her lips.
"Let's hope it's not the name you had been planning to give to the deceased baby. if
it is, please find another one. I don't mean to be rude but it brings bad luck." I protest.
"What a crude thing to say! But, as crude as it is, I did not miscarry. That was a way
to manipulate you into talking." Miriam confesses.
"Now that's one hell of a scheme to pull on me!"
"I had to manipulate you in some way. I mean, twenty years of secrecy, means twenty
years of plotting, just so as to get the answers that I want. Now moving on, I have a
name in mind."
"Oh, this time you got me good!" I protest.
"Well, I had to act to save our raptured bond. Moving on, everyone is planning for a
name but I have already picked one."
"And what does it say?" I inquire in absolute curiosity."
"I wish I could tell you but I can't. I will only reveal it tomorrow, during the naming
ceremony. Now let's get going, you have some explaining to do about Cameroon.
There were a lot of curious whispers during supper." Miriam says as she stands up
from the kitchen table and heads to the sink to get some water.
"Oh, that again!"
"Yeah, let's get going." Miriam says as she whisks me to the living room, where I have
to explain to my parents and everyone else, who Cameroon Evans really is and how
he came to be....
After I have done all the explaining, people asking me questions that suit those of
police officers, I prepare for bed. Firstly, I get a very long shower and I go and collect
the baby from Arnold, who is pacing around the living room, trying to put the baby
to sleep.
Arnold sure would make a good father. He knows how to treat children. From my
family, every child likes Arnold. He sure is a good uncle to them. Even the new comer,
Cameroon talks to Arnold more than to anyone else. I collect my baby and I call it a
day.
I wake up late, it's around eight in the morning and the baby is nowhere to be seen.
The place where I she was sleeping empty. I quickly yank my covers, get out of bed
and I search frantically for the little infant in the room. When I don't find her, tears
cloud my eyes. I have heard of babies getting stolen from their mothers but I never
thought that someday, I would be the one to count my loses.
I quickly make my way to the living room to tell everyone about the missing baby and
that's when I find Tariro sitting on the sofa, delicately cradling the baby in her arms.
"I brought the formula, bottle feed her whilst I take care of breakfast….oh, the
sleeping beauty has finally awoken. Piece of advice, stop sleeping like a dead woman."
Miriam says as she enters the living room, dressed in a satin peach nightdress that
looks so beautiful, it could be worn even during the day. This one takes fashion to
another level.
"I was tired." I protest
"For now, forget about yourself. You will start being relaxed when the little mistress
over here has the energy to tire herself only to sleep too early and wake up late."
"The displeasures of motherhood." I say as I head back to my bedroom to bath and
change, so as to help out with the cooking.
By nine o'clock, everyone has bathed and dressed. Soldiered up for the naming
ceremony. Well, it's going to be a double ceremony, since the baby is going to be
officially taken out of the house. Since my parents are religious people, prayers are
offered for the baby. During the naming ceremony, I am forced to put order by telling
everyone how the baby is to be named. The first person will be Miriam, followed by
my parents but my parents however advocate for Arnold to name the baby in place
of them. After the two people suggest their set of names. Everyone zeros down on
only two names -Amari and Astrid.
For some reason, I am disappointed that they didn't give her a local name but then,
since I gave up my naming rights, I have absolutely no choice but to swallow the pill.
After the naming ceremony, Arnold and Cameroon embark on a photo shoot. For the
very first time in sixteen years, I take a picture with Miriam. From the whole photo
shoot, there are a few pictures which mean the world to me. The first one is the one
I took with Miriam, the second one is the one we took as the Maruva girls only, the
third one is the one I took with Miriam, Tariro and my mother, the fourth one is the
one I took with my children, the fifth one is the one I took with Arnold and baba and
then the sixth one is the one that I took with my whole family. The most hilarious
but memorable photo is the one that I took with Arnold. He had taken me in his arms
and I was still laughing and protesting. It sure was a hilarious moment with a
beautiful picture. Arnold sure knows how to bring out the best in me. Someone who
doesn't know will think that we are a couple yet I am five years older than him and I
am his older sister.
The short weekend was well spent and I sure loved it. All of us uploaded the pictures
we took, on social media and all the captions were speaking volumes.