Memoirs – Chapter Eighty

They say men don’t cry, it’s a lie! We do! I got into the main bedroom and I broke down in tears. What had just happened? My life, the rug beneath it’s feet had just been pulled off with such force I had landed on my ass. I had a lot of things to consider at this moment one of which being had my wife ever really loved me. The very first week she got a job my wife had slept with the boss. How can anyone even contemplate that? How do you reconcile yourself to the fact that the person you loved so much was just waiting for an opportunity to be fucked by another? It’s not even humbling to be honest simply devastating. I had been working for so long and can truly say before my wife brought Khanyi home and my office sent me away with that manipulative woman Lindiwe I had never cheated. When you are married opportunities for cheating are so plentiful because most married people are bored and would rather cheat with another married person. People don’t get it, the people who do not cheat it’s not because they have lack of opportunities because I am certain they do, rather it’s because they choose to value they have at home even more. I have maintained from the beginning that I loved my wife entirely and yes I had messed up real bad when I cheated and have no justification for it nor excuses to make myself feel better but that fact remains standard.

I tried lying down on my bed to sleep but it was not working because my next thought became, I have thrown out my wife so does this mean she went with her boss again? I am certain when she came outside she had no bag nor bank card meaning she could only go in one direction and that’s with him. Did she even have a phone? She left with him?That thought hurt even more! Had I just sealed our relationships fate by chasing her out. I needed to take a drive to get fresh air but part of me was saying that this would be a bad idea as I was in no state to drive. Maybe I should go swim but that’s a white people thing. I would probably drown myself. Still I needed to breathe, I needed the fresh air! When I opened the back door I found a lump of something by the front door. My wife in her wisdom had chosen not to go with her lover and had rather decided to sit outside the door until I think eventually she fell asleep. She had not even knocked once nor rang the bell. That much I am certain of! I bet you she was trying to think of what her next lie would be! As soon as the door opened she jumped up and started apologising. Thank heavens it was a warm night because Cape Town can have the coldest of nights. I know I was feeling anxious earlier on about where she would sleep but seeing her there just brought back all that anger that had built inside me.

“Mxolisi I am so sorry! I really am! I don’t know what got into me please Mxolisi I am begging you I am so sorry!”

She pleaded and went on her knees grabbing tightly onto my leg like a child that does not want it’s mother to leave for work. She took me by surprise though because I had not expected to find her there. I told her to let go of me because I needed to think and that there was no way I was allowing her near me after what she had done!

“The very same week Asthandile? Did you ever love me? Did you marry me simply because I was your way out of Mdantsane? Was that it?”

I asked her. Mdantsane is like Soweto, most people who are born there live, work and die there. But unlike Soweto, East London is not Johannesburg meaning if you stuck there, you will never experience what life truly is. I could see why she had latched onto me like that because it was obvious I was going places. I looked at most of my peers whom I had schooled with there and most were still hovering around the place like flies not sure which direction the smell is coming from. I know women are often on that feminist trip that they won’t do anything to end up with a wealthy man, oh puliz we all know that is not true. No woman wants to marry a loser it’s as simple as that and getting pregnant and married in Mdantsane would mean you will be stuck in one place for a very long usually not so much fun time!

I told her that she could sleep in the house tonight but tomorrow morning I am calling her evil parents to come fetch her. I did not want her in my house. She begged me not to call her parents because this was something she said we had to solve between us. I told her that no, someone back home had to know her true colours so that if something happens to her here they should know why. She started crying fresh tears saying I will ruin her reputation if I do that. My wife was one of those woman who acted as though they shit chocolate and worse their shit don’t smell. She was proud to the point of being conceited and in the neighborhood she was the untouchable one. She was beautiful and had married a lawyer. All her neighbors envied her because she had a big house eKapa in one of those big neighborhoods. Truth be told, usually the people that leave mdantsane to Cape Town most of them end up in the townships. No wonder why Madame Zille is forever complaining about it. It’s not like we prefer those townships to our own just that job prospects are much better here than there. That’s why to many Asthandile had done so well. Now I was going to crush her. Just watch.

I did not want to swim anymore. I knew where she was. I went to the main bedroom and locked my door. I even managed to sleep.

In the morning I was woken up with the smell of a lovely breakfast. I had not eaten last night and I was so hungry. I walked down the stairs and when I saw my beautiful wife standing there in a short nightdress I walked past her, got into the car and left! She will eat her food!

When I got to the office I decided it was time to punish her. I sent her a text saying,

“Tonight when I get home please be gone. I am going to bring another woman and I have every intention of sleeping with her! Have a good life!”

I know my wife very well. I waited five minutes and the reply I expected came. It read,

“Another woman in my house? Over my dead body!”

I then went to part B of my plan. I sent a message to a woman,

“I feel like I have not seen you in so long this is wrong. Can I come pick you after work and we can all have dinner at my house! Please dont tell Asthandile should be a surprise!”

She replied.

“Oh that’s awesome. See you then. Thanks!”

That woman was Khanyi!

****The End*****

@diaryofazulugal
Mikeatdiary
Michael Nkululeko Maphoto (fb)

Dear Mike
I have been debating with myself about sending this letter to you and your readers. Here goes:

I was 16 when I got pregnant. I was not raped or anything. The day I lost my virginity I got pregnant. Yeah I know bad luck indeed. It was so tough and even with my parents support I brought so much shame to myself and them. It’s a myth that these things happen in poor areas only for I was very much suburban and white schools. With time I matriculated and got a Bcom Degree. I work and am settled. The baby daddy who was from my neighborhood and a year older than me broke up with me a year after the baby was born. I am 30 and have a child in high school. It’s the oddest thing because people who meet her actually think she is my little sister. When they find out, even today, they still judge. Having a child is no child’s play no matter how we tell each other how beautiful an experience it is. You keep advising each other to cheat and revenge without thinking of the consequences because some will get pregnant if not sick. What then? Please be responsible when you advise each other because there is a real downfall in most of the things you tell each other.

Be Wise

BM