Marriage on the ROX
The most unfair thing in the world is having to deal with things you know nothing about because of your parents. The box contained pictures of a young man. I think the pictures were old because because they didn’t look like they were taken by modern cameras. I didn’t know the man on the pictures but he looked handsome. I also found a necklace in the box. It had one heart. It was one of those necklaces that go in pairs. Maybe he gave the other half to his partner. I wondered why the man delivered the box to me. Maybe he delivered it at the wrong address. If he wanted me to know something he would have included a letter or phone numbers. I was not in a mood to crack my mind of puzzles. I handed the box back to our helper and told her to throw it away. I told her to call it a day. She was so happy to be allowed to knock off early. My parents needed me. I didn’t have time to deal with people who wanted to play mind games. My mother-in-law went straight to the guest bedroom. I think she was tired from the long drive. I went to my mother’s bedroom to look for clues on her health. I suspected she had some chronic disease that she never told me about. I didn’t believe the heart problem story. I suspected there was more to it. I searched her bedroom but there was no sign of my mom taking chronic medication. I found an old photo album in one of her drawers. I hated the album because it had pictures of baby me. I didn’t like some of the pictures because they were ugly. My mom didn’t want me to get rid of them because they were memories to be shown to future generations. I opened it and laughed my ass off when I saw a picture of my mom at tertiary. She looked like one of those chicks ba go phapha. On the second picture I saw a picture that almost made me die. My mom was in a group of people. One of the persa in the group had his head cut. Everyone on the picture looked happy. What made me wanna die was the necklace he had on. It looked like the twin of the one in the box.
I immediately went to the kitchen to look for the helper. She was not there. I called her name but nobody responded. I remembered I told her to go home. I looked for the box all over but it was nowhere to be found. I called the helper but her phone was off. Her voicemail was funny. I went back to my mom’s bedroom and took out the picture from the album and put it in my bag. It was quite clear something was going on. I added the dots and came up with a theory that the reason my mother cut out the face from the guy’s picture was because something happened between the two of them and things didn’t end well. Maybe he was my father and was trying to reach out. Maybe he contacted my mother and she fainted. I even thought about the hobo I saw at the hospital. “Nuh, that one is too poor to date my mother. My mom has pride,” I thought to myself. I wanted to dig deeper but I was scared I would find something big. I decided to take a bath and rest. When I woke up my mother-in-law was not around. I checked my phone and there was a message from her. She told me she didn’t want to disturb my sleep so she went back to the hospital by herself. My mother’s car was in the garage but I didn’t know where she put her keys. I was stuck with no car because my mother-in-law used my car. That is how close I was to Lesley’s mother. She was able to use my car without my permission and I was cool with it. I know other daughters-in-law would turn the world upside down if their mothers-in-law dared to touch their cars. It wouldn’t make sense to deny the mother of a person who bought my car access to use it. I thought of calling Uber but wasn’t sure if they had it that side of the world. I remembered I had some guy’s number. He used to like me back in the days. He was one those sweet konyanas ko kasi. He wanted to be my boyfriend but I friendzoned him. He was too slow and sweet to be my boyfriend. If my memory serves me well he was still virgin in matric. I only bumped into him twice after matric and we exchanged numbers. I never used them because he was driving a Toyota Corolla.
I called and asked for a favour. I explained my situation and he told me he didn’t mind to drop me at the hospital. I jokingly said “still sweet as ever. I should have chosen you hey”. Within 20 minutes he called to tell me he was at my gate. To my surprise it was not the Toyota Corolla I once saw him driving. Nigger was driving a Merc. The windows were tinted. I opened the front passenger door and a female voice said “back seat sesi. This seat has permanent owners”. Ouch, I almost told them to leave. I got in the back seat with a tail between my legs. Eric introduced the stinking attitude girl as his wife. Tjo I didn’t even know he was married. I congratulated him on the Merc and the girl said “actually, the car is mine. His is at home. Why don’t you use taxis like other people? Nxa some people think their farts are flavoured. I don’t understand why we have to be chauffeurs this time of the night”. My first instinct was to get out of the car and leave but I thought to myself “nuh fam, this cheeky chick will think she bullied me around”. I sat comfortably and thanked Eric for always being there for me. In Eric style, he drove the car in silent. I wondered where he met that hoe. It was only when we got to the garage that I saw who the girl was. Her ex used to buy me things before I moved to Joburg. Her father was rich but his money was not enough to make her beautiful. She didn’t even have class. It’s true that money can’t buy class. She probably bullied Eric into marrying her. After pouring petrol they dropped me at hospital. I thanked Eric and told him to take care. If I wasn’t married I was gonna go for Eric just to teach that girl a lesson. When I got to hospital I was told everyone had left. I was told they drove to Seshego. I regretted not calling before going to the hospital. The good news was my mom was awake. Apparently she got better after some popular charismatic pastor based in Polokwane prayed for her. I went to her ward and her face beamed with joy when she saw me. I asked her how she was feeling and she told me she was feeling better. I tried to keep it to myself but failed. It was burning me inside.
I asked “mama, is my real father still alive?”.