A Contract declared void
1089 Words
Third person POV
The HeadBush clan and the Wright clan sat facing each other, and the only thing thick in the air was gunpowder.
The Wright family could see it clearly in the face of the HeadBush patriarch—they were in deep trouble, and there would be no escaping this one. The two couples seated before them did not represent one powerful tribe, but two. With nothing more than a flick of their fingers, the entire empire the Wrights had built—hiding behind borrowed names and false respectability—could be reduced to ashes at their feet.
They had learned that lesson the hard way.
Years earlier, when they had attempted to refuse Mothusi’s request to marry their daughter and instead keep their granddaughter for themselves, Kgosi Thapelo had shown them exactly what defiance cost. He made it his mission to suppress every client they worked with. He went as far as publicly branding the Wright family “two-faced social climbers.”
No amount of money could buy silence then. Newspapers refused to be bought. Telephone calls could not be stopped. Their reputation bled out in public, and soon they were warned that if they continued, they would be fighting beggars for their last loaf of bread.
They had given in.
The Wright family accepted the marriage, surrendering their daughter and granddaughter to the HeadBush family. Still, believing themselves clever, they attempted to regain control during the lobola negotiations, demanding a ridiculous bride price.
The HeadBush family had been unfazed. Their son was marrying the love of his life, and the old couple would return home with their first granddaughter. No price was too high.
Now, history sat between them again.
Zaire cleared his throat and rose slightly from his seat before speaking.
“Kgosi, we would like to begin by apologising for overstepping and failing to consult you first,” he said carefully. “But this matter was placed under immense pressure on our side. These are questions the dead cannot answer for themselves.”
His eyes shifted briefly to his brother-in-law’s father, his skin burning beneath the weight of the stare.
“We, too, were shocked to learn of this arrangement—until the Diamond family came knocking at our doorstep—”
“Oh?” Kgosi Thapelo interrupted, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “So it is acceptable to disrespect my son and me in matters of this nature because we are known for illiteracy and farming?”
Zaire opened his mouth to respond, but Thapelo did not allow him.
“You have the audacity to stand before me and apologise for something that has already been sealed,” Thapelo continued. “My granddaughter is not property to be traded for your greed. Ever since my son married your sister, not once have he or his children asked for anything from the Wright family. Not once. Nor would I ever allow your sister to be mistreated in my house—or in her husband’s.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Yet time and again, you have taken advantage of the love we have for her and used my son as though he were a pushover. You show no regard for what we think. And it appears you have forgotten something very important.”
Silence fell.
“Mothusi’s children are connected to you only through their mother,” Thapelo said coldly. “The blood that runs through their veins belongs to my ancestors.”
The Wright family stiffened.
“That contract formed between your family and the Diamonds is void,” he continued. “At the time it was signed, we—the rightful family of the Sage—were not consulted. I am certain my son was also absent during this disgraceful, slave-selling bride contract.”
The finality in his voice left no room for argument.
True to her word, Genesis was not present at the meeting.
As the two families gathered in the family room, she quietly took her grandfather’s bakkie keys and drove toward the cattle kraal, leaving the weight of ancestral war behind her.
Back in the meeting room, Margaret—Genesis’s maternal grandmother—felt her insides boil. She knew that one wrong word would be enough for the woman seated before her to tear her apart. Still, silence was no longer an option. She had to speak—if only to save face for her late husband and her son, both now under the scorching glare of the Kgosi of the Batswana tribe.
“In-law,” Margaret began carefully, her voice controlled despite the tremor in her chest. “We truly understand how you feel. And trust me when I say that when this matter was brought to us, we were just as enraged as—”
She did not get to finish.
“If you ask me,” !Nari interrupted coolly, her eyes fixed on her son’s mother-in-law, “none of you appear enraged. Not even the slightest hint of ignorance about this matter.”
The room stiffened.
“Where is this contract you speak of?” !Nari continued. “We wish to contest it in the rightful manner you, as a family, failed to follow for your own child—and grandchild.”
Zaire reached into his folder and slowly placed the contract on the table.
Grace, Mothusi’s elder sister, picked it up. She glanced at her parents, who gave her a brief nod, granting permission. Taking a steady breath, Grace began to read the contract aloud.
The terms were unmistakably clear.
And so was Genesis’s late grandfather’s signature—bold, unquestionable, and undeniable.
The elderly couple exchanged a look before their gaze shifted to the matriarch of the Wright family. In that moment, it became painfully evident that she, too, had been unaware of this arrangement.
Margaret rose from her seat and, without hesitation, knelt before them.
The act stunned the room.
She bowed her head low, pleading for forgiveness—for the deceit, the dishonour, and the burden placed upon a child who should never have been bartered.
The old couple remained unmoved.
“It is of no use for you to kneel before us,” !Nari said, her voice firm, carrying the weight of generations. “You have already branded my grandchild.”
She straightened slightly.
“We will speak with the Sage and hear her thoughts. Until then, none of you are to call her, visit her, or attempt to persuade her in any way regarding this matter.”
The decree was final.
- Writer
