ZWELIBANZI - THE TAXI DRIVER

CHAPTER 08

ZWELIBANZI

The sun rose slow over Umlazi, painting the streets in gold and shadow. The city smelled of exhaust, dust, and promises ,some broken, some just waiting to be claimed.

Nomtha was in the front seat, leaning back, eyes half-closed, the faintest smile on her lips. She looked peaceful, almost like the storm from last night hadn’t touched her.

I started the taxi, my hands tight on the wheel. I wasn’t ready to let my guard down ,not yet ,but something in her presence made the streets feel less like a battlefield.

“Zweli,”

she said softly

“you don’t have to carry it all alone. You don’t have to fight every ghost, every enemy, by yourself.”

I glanced at her, eyes narrowing, caught between suspicion and the pull I felt toward her. “I’ve done this my whole life, Noma. Survive. Drive. Protect. That’s all I know.”

Her hand brushed mine, a fleeting touch that sent heat through my chest.

“I know. But you fought for me last night. That’s not just survival. That’s… love, Zweli. You don’t have to say it. Just live it.”

I exhaled, the words stuck in my throat. I’d never been good with feelings. But for her, I wanted to try.

“I… I don’t know if I know how to do this,”

I admitted, voice low.

“But I think… I want to learn.”

She smiled, leaning closer.

“Then let me teach you.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with something I couldn’t name. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t anger. It was… hope. A fragile thing, but real.

The calm didn’t last. My phone buzzed. An unknown number.

I answered.

“Morning, Zwelibanzi,”

Madoda’s voice purred through the line.

“You got last night’s message loud and clear. Keep your girl close… or next time, you’ll lose more than a taxi ride.”

I gritted my teeth, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.

“I warned you once, Khumalo and i won't do it again like a school teacher or some broken record ,Uze umthinte futhi ,Uzol'theza olunenkume”

He laughed.

“We’ll see, son of Mshengu. We’ll see.”

The line went dead.

I exhaled, turning to Nomtha. Her eyes, wide and steady, met mine.

“They’re coming,”

I said quietly.

“And this time… it’s going to be bigger. We can’t hide forever ,but just know that ngzokuvikela ngawo wonke amandla enginawo ngisaphila ,Ngyazi angnawo amandla okwenza okukhulu ,kodwa ngyakwethembisa ukuthi ngzohlezi nginawe ,Nomtha , Ngyakthanda Nomthawelanga”

She reached for my hand again. “Then we face it together. Not just the streets, not just the past… together ,I don't care about what you have Zweli ,as long I have you by my side i know we will conquer everything together , Ilove you Dlamini.”

For the first time, I felt the weight of my father’s legacy, the war with the Thorn Boys, and the power in my hands ,and I didn’t feel alone.

I started the engine, taxi roaring to life. Streets waited, danger waiting in every corner ,but now, there was her hand in mine, and a spark of something stronger than fear ,a life worth fighting for.

After I took Nomtha at her house I came back home ,It was still 9 in the morning The streets of Umlazi were quieter than usual, the morning bustle softened by the promise of a day off. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t driving, wasn’t running errands, wasn’t dodging gangsters or cops. Today was for them ,Auntie and Zinhle.

I started with Zinhle. My little sister had been quiet lately, the weight of our parents’ absence pressing down on her small shoulders. I wanted to see her smile, really smile. I drove to the corner market, searching for something special.

After wandering through the stalls, I finally found it: a small doll, hand-stitched, with a bright yellow dress that reminded me of summer. I bought it with coins I had saved, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in my chest.

When I got home, Zinhle’s eyes lit up the moment she saw me.

"Zweli!”

she cried, running into my arms. Her laughter was like wind chimes, delicate and pure.

“I got something for you,”

I said, handing her the doll.

She hugged it, then me, and I felt my chest tighten ,not with pain, but something like… pride. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in years.

Auntie was in the kitchen when I walked in. I could see the tired lines on her face soften at my presence. I spent the day helping her, chopping vegetables, carrying water, even teasing her about her terrible cooking and her laughter ringing out like music.

By mid-afternoon, I had managed to coax Zinhle into a game, building a little fort in the living room. We laughed, we argued, we fought like siblings, and I felt something I hadn’t in years ,peace.

When the sun started to dip, I stepped outside for a walk, the streets quiet and empty. My mind wandered, tracing back through the years, collecting fragments of memory like fallen leaves.

I remembered my father’s hands, rough but steady, lifting me onto his shoulders. My mother’s voice, soft, singing lullabies I could never forget. The way the light fell through the kitchen window, golden and warm, long before life became about survival.

I stopped near the old park, leaning against the railing. The wind tugged at my shirt, carrying smells of earth and dust, smells that had always meant home. And I let myself feel it all ,the loss, the loneliness, the love I still carried for them. I remember when I came back from school tired , returning to my ever smiling mother ,she prepared my favourite food ,I was so happy at that time I was just an ordinary boy who had love from both his parents, at that time there was no need to be cold because they poured love onto me so deep ,If only I knew those were the last days of me and my parents ,Those smiles and laughter ,My father's husky ,tired voice which echoed in the house ,He was a man ,A man who tried to keep his family together despite all the challenges ,I still remember the day my younger sister was born ,mind you my sister is 13 ,Yes I always treat her like a small princess ,they say have a strong tongue and hand when raising but with me ? I can never expose myself to that life knowing very well ,Am a brother of responsibility so with whatever happens I will be here

For a moment, I allowed myself to hope. To imagine that maybe, with Nomtha, with my sister, and even with Auntie, I could build something that lasted. Something more than survival.

I whispered into the wind, almost to my parents, almost to myself

“I’ll keep them safe. I’ll keep them happy. And I’ll try… try to be the man you wanted me to be.”

The sun dipped lower, painting the township in gold. I turned back home, shoulders lighter than when I left, ready to carry this small peace with me ,even if only for a moment before the streets called again.

As I walked back from the park, lost in my thoughts, something caught my eye. My taxi, parked under the streetlight, wasn’t empty. Someone was curled up on the back seat.

I frowned, stepping closer.

“Skips?”

He stirred, blinking, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Oh… Zweli. Sorry, broer. I just… I had nowhere else to crash.”

I opened the door, leaning against it.

“Nowhere else? What happened to your house?”

He hesitated, looking down at his torn sneakers.

“Things are rough at home. Mom’s been gone a lot, new man in the house. He doesn’t like me around. Says I’m just a useless mouth to feed. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay there tonight.”

I felt something tighten in my chest. It reminded me of myself years ago, wandering through life with nowhere to land. I crossed my arms, keeping my voice steady.

“So you thought my taxi was a hotel?”

He chuckled weakly. “Better than the street, eh.”

I wanted to scold him, tell him to toughen up ,but instead, I found myself sitting down beside him.

“Listen, Skips… I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. To feel like no one’s got your back. But don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re alone.”

He looked at me, surprised, as if expecting me to chase him off instead of talking.

I sighed, remembering Auntie’s voice from years ago, soft but firm: ‘Never forget God, Zweli. Even when you feel abandoned, He is with you.’

"Do you know God ,Skips? "

I asked brushing my head ,as he looked at me with a confused look

"Ya kyaycava die man ,Wareng ke " He said shrugging his shoulders

“There’s this verse my Aunt used to quote,”

I said slowly, almost like I was speaking to myself.

“Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me in."

I paused, letting the words hang in the air.

“It’s from the Psalms. Took me a long time to believe it. But… she was right. I’m still here.”

Thulani swallowed hard, eyes glistening in the dim light.

“You think… that’s true for me too?”

I shrugged, hiding the softness in my tone.

“If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have made it this far. You’re stronger than you think. And maybe this”

I tapped the taxi roof ,

“ain’t just a ride. Maybe it’s a place to breathe when life pushes you out.”

For a long moment, we just sat there in silence, the hum of the township at night wrapping around us. Then I stood, patting his shoulder roughly.

“You can stay tonight. But tomorrow… we’ll figure out something better. You hear?”

He nodded quickly, relief flooding his face.

“And Groot lysten (listen ) take it like a man , there's no time to be feeling sorry about yourself ,suck it up ,Even when God comes with the light , he'll meet you halfway , don't die of hope you know it won't appear when you're sitting "

I said to him

“Thanks, Zweli. For real.”

I didn’t answer. I just walked toward the house, but deep inside, I knew ,this cold heart of mine wasn't frozen as I pretended to be