Diary of a Single Mum Episode 30 (Part B) - Mzansi Stories

Wednesday, August 5

Wizzy

Diary of a Single Mum Episode 30 (Part B)

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Episode 30 (Part B)

Bad things need to be nipped at the beginning to avoid a harvest of evil. If you delay in taking prompt action, you will have the trouble of straightening things later in future.
I knew my mother was still grieving inside but replacing my father so soon was an insult. She needed to give us time to get used to the idea of not seeing our father again. Most of you will agree with me, those who had good fathers feel that nobody will ever take their places again. The following morning my mother woke up with an attitude, I deserved it for spoiling her night. I wasn’t about to tolerate cat and mouse games under my watch. If she wanted games, she had to wait until we the children got out of the house. Now I got to believe Beatrice when she said at some point during my father’s sickness, my mother used to disappear hours without end and come back late at night. It was so heart clenching. Was it because she knew that he didn’t have any more strength to deal with her or maybe she just got tired of taking care of him? It’s true the people closest are the ones likely to betray. They know your weakest spot and use it to their advantage for your down fall. I didn’t mind her because she would suck it up be herself again. I sat outside peeling cassava for breakfast, I saw Mrs Kamanga coming. My heart thumped so hard it hurt. I thought, now she knows. I looked at my mother sitting on the veranda so far away from me to avoid talking to me. When she looked up, their gazes met, I saw the look of defeat in her eyes. I stood up quickly thinking I was about to witness history in the making. She walked past me as if I never existed, she was a woman on a mission but this time I would be there and if need be fight her to death to protect my mother.
“Ma Wangu you should come with me now.” She was panting like a mouse running from bush fire. My mother was more puzzled. I watched her closely.
“What has happened Ma Wezi?” my mother asked almost in a whisper, keeping her distance.
“Today I will kill somebody sure,” she started shouting and cursing saying a certain woman known as Anya Jere had run away with money from the village’s women group banki mmudzi (village bank). She used to be the treasurer and she was trusted because of her long years working in Tanzania. Women would contribute money on daily basis then give each other turns to take loans to boast their businesses and pay back with a small interest. It was Mrs Kamanga’s turn and now for three days Anya Jere was missing without a forwarding address or any trace of money amounting to Five Hundred Thousand Kwacha. Rumor had it that she was hiding at her cousin’s place in the neighboring village and she wanted my mother to escort her and beat her blue black. I could see relief washing over my mother’s face. I wanted to laugh. My mother was never a fighter unlike Mrs Kamanga who had a fighting record like that of Jackie Chan. She even used to beat her husband that was why he left without protesting the previous night when I told him that I would tell his wife. I didn’t know why my mother was provoking her wrath by rattling her nest. It was insanity. My mother refused to take a no from me; I guess she didn’t want to disappoint her ‘friend’. I called Beatrice to go with them just in case things turned really bad.
Later in the afternoon I received a call from Norah. She was back from honeymoon and she said her husband wanted them to start trying for a baby as soon as possible. I gasped that it was too soon. She had not yet told him of her status, she said her happiness was too bliss to end with such disturbing news. Really? I was worried about her. This whole thing was too good to be true, the worst thing were the lies. If she had started her relationship on a ‘no secrets’ note it could have been the best thing to do.
“Please my dear tell your husband the truth before your
relationship is ruined. You are risking so much including your life. How long are you going to take your medicine in hiding? He will find out one way or the other but he will hate it if it’s not from your own mouth,” I told her but it all fall on deaf ears.
“I have to go girlfriend, my man is waiting. Don’t worry I will think about it.” She hung up on me. I sighed almost in tears. The whole thing just made me miss my man terribly. I toyed with my phone, yet again fighting off the desire to call him. I didn’t have to be love sick when he was just a phone call away and loved every bit of me. What hurt most was the thought of him sleeping with another woman. When we started dating, I became blind to every sight of any man. My heart had chosen him among many and I trusted him with my whole life, in every way he was the father of my children.
“Babe you broke the promise,” I soliloquized while wiping away the tears misting my eyes.
In the late afternoon I was taking a walk around the village with my kids. Staying at one place was stressing especially with no any entertainment in the house. People went to watch movies at the village square hall. It was so noisy and crowded one would swear everyone was a movie commentator. When we turned into a path that led to the lake, a certain man caught up with us. He looked to be in his sixties. It was summer when the mangoes were in broom. There were so many falling on the ground under the trees, ignored and rotten. Couldn’t the fruits be put to a more usefulness? No wonder we were wallowing in poverty yet the resources were there. We exchanged greetings.
“Are you the daughter of the late Banda?” he asked me. I nodded.
“You are quite a beauty if you don’t mind me saying. Guess you took after your mother.” I was fluttered, it wasn’t everyday that compliments flew my way especially now when my self confidence was crushed. I mumbled my thanks as we went our separate ways. Watching the lake had a calming effect on me. It made me think and reflect properly. It gave me hope that beyond the stretching waters life went ahead with or without my being happy. It’s hard to understand but nature has the ability to heal broken souls. If you want to cry, shout or laugh, it will always be there to witness every moment and offer the much needed comfort.
The sun was setting and we headed back home. My mother and sister were not yet back; I went to the kitchen and started preparing supper. We already had fresh fish for relish. It’s taken plain without any added spices yet its aroma and taste, beat that of expensive restaurants. Among the Tongas, every meal is associated with sea food, it’s a tradition.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a knock. It couldn’t have been my mother because she couldn’t have bothered to knock. I went to open the door, to my amazement it was the man I had met earlier on my way to the lake. He stood there, gave me a smile. By the look on his face, he thought it was his best. His front teeth were missing. I got back inside and took out a wooden stool for him to sit on. I greeted him and waited for him to say why he was there. It could have sounded rude if I had asked. He looked to be unease.
“er… er I want to talk to you seriously. Who is home with you?” I replied that it was just me and my kids. I didn’t know what sort of news he sought me for that called for him to talk to me alone.
“A group of men I joined later at the lake saw me talking to you earlier. They seem to know a lot about you, one of them is a friend to your uncle.” I wanted to scream”so what!” but my curiosity to know more shut me up, there was no need to frighten him off but he had to be quick I had food to prepare. I was so mad at my uncle for washing my dirty linen in public. I didn’t know men were good gossipers too, thought it was a feminine task. I urged him to continue.
“I am sorry for what happened to you. These young men are cruel.” Since I didn’t know which part he was exactly talking about, I still kept quite. Was it the Ben or the Peter story?
“I know how it feels like to love and be abandoned later. I lost my wife a year ago and trust me it hasn’t been easy.” He wiped his bald head with the back of his hand. We had two different kinds of losses. Did being dumped and dying sound the same to him?
“It happens; don’t worry about me I am fine I moved on. I am sorry about your wife though.” I was getting impatient; it was unnerving for a stranger to know my private life. I had no idea how much he knew.
“The thing is, I was wondering…,” he paused and looked me straight in the eyes before continuing,” I mean I came here to ask for your hand in marriage.”
My jaw dropped…

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