Broken vows

Ntombenhle The smell of river water and sand filled the air but in my heart, sorrow flooded in like it held a place. My pillar of strength, someone I called usofas'lahlane wami has left me in the most tragic way. I married into the Gumede family at the age of 26. Nqobizitha and I dated for 2 years and he proposed on the third year. I was the happiest I have ever been since meeting Nqobi but it just had to end in the most brutal way and 2 days after my wedding. " Makoti??, ncese sthandwa sam, kuzodlula konke ngane yami " my mother-in-law said. I was trying so hard to be strong but what she said had me wailing so much that I couldn't even control myself. “ Why do bad things follow me, njalo la endiya khona, kukhona into embi eyakuwenzeka, kub'hlungu mama " " Lay your head my baby, we will talk about everything else when we get home " ( In the Gumede household ) As the cars stop, I woke up to my head throbbing so bad that I wanna ask for pain blocks but I stop myself because I don't want to talk to anyone . I just want a hot shower and I wanna sleep, I lost my appetite at the cemetery. "Nomafu?" My father-in-law said, but his voice wasn't the same. It was lower. Heavy. Like he was holding something back. I didn't answer. I couldn't. My eyes were fixed on the car door handle. If I looked at him, I would break again. He sighed. "Vuka, mntanami. We are home." I finally lifted my head. Everyone was already out of the cars. My mother-in-law was standing by the gate, her black dress dusted with sand from the cemetery. The other makotis were whispering, looking at me. That's when I saw it. Nqobizitha's car was still parked where he left it on Saturday morning. Washed. Shining. As if he would come out of the house any minute and say, "Makoti, let's go." My chest tightened. "Mama..." I whispered, but no sound came out. My mother-in-law came to my window and opened the door for me. She took my hand. Her hands were warm. Mine were ice cold. "Shh... ungakhali. People are watching," she whispered in my ear, but her own eyes were red. Inside the Gumede household, the house was full. Too full. Women in the kitchen, men in the living room, children running even though they were told not to. The smell of curry and incense. And in the middle of it all, a big photo of Nqobi in his wedding suit. Smiling. That smile killed me. I ran. I didn't know where. I pushed through people and found our bedroom — _my_ bedroom now — and locked the door. I finally let the hot shower run, but I didn't get in. I just sat on the cold tiles and cried until my throat burned. There was a soft knock. "Nomafu? It's me, Zanele. Can I come in?" Zanele. Nqobi's younger sister. The only one who really liked me. Should I let her in? Or could the knock be something darker — like the elders want us to discuss about my future in this homestead I wiped my face. Zanele. Thank God. I opened the door a crack. Her face was tight with panic, not tears. "You must not shower yet," she whispered, glancing behind her. "Baba and the elders are in the dining room. They are waiting for you." My blood went cold. "For me? Why?" She held my wrist. Her hands were shaking. "They are talking about what happens to you now that... now that Nqobi is gone. And about the lobola. And about this house. Nomafu, they said you are still a new bride, you have no child for Gumede..." She didn't finish. She didn't have to. "Nomafu, sit," my father-in-law said. I sat. He took a deep breath. I could see his hands shaking. "We thank you for honouring our son today," he started. "You have shown respect. But as elders, we must discuss what is right, for you and for the family." The room was so quiet I could hear the clock. "The lobola was paid. You are our daughter-in-law. But Nqobizitha is gone. And now you know, mntanami, you got married into the Gumede family. We are a family that does not abandon our own." He looked at the doorway. "So now, his older brother must fill in his shoes." My stomach dropped. Sifiso stepped into the dining room. He had changed out of his funeral suit into a white vest and jeans. His eyes were red, but he was not crying. "Nomafu," he said softly. My mother-in-law made a small sound behind me. Like she wanted to stop it but couldn't. Malume Themba added, "It is our custom. It is to protect you. You will not go back to your family as a widow with nothing. You will remain a Gumede. As Sifiso's wife." Sifiso's wife. Two days ago I was Nqobi's wife. Now I was being handed over like a blanket I was on the floor again. Back against the bed. My knees to my chest. I could hear them arguing in the dining room. My mother-in-law's voice getting louder, then Malume Themba shutting her down. Then a soft knock. Not like Zanele's panicked one. Slow. Tired. "Nomafu?" It was Mama. I didn't answer. She opened the door anyway. She had a cup of tea in her hands. She sat down next to me on the floor, even in her black dress. "Drink, ngane yami." I shook my head. She sighed and put the cup down. She touched my hair. The way my own mother used to. "Listen to me, my daughter. What they said in there... it is not to hurt you." I laughed, but it came out as a sob. "Not to hurt me? Mama, two days ago I was burying my dreams. Now they want to bury me with another man." "No," she said firmly. "No one is burying you. Do you think I want this? Sifiso is my son, but Nqobi was my baby. My last born." Her eyes filled with tears finally. The first time I saw her cry today. "Themba thinks about lobola. About what people will say. That we took money and then sent you back empty with bad luck. But Sifiso..." She looked towards the door. "Sifiso said he will do it to protect you. Not because he wants a wife. His wife left him three years ago, Nomafu. She lives in Durban with another man. He is alone with his thoughts. He said, 'If we send Nomafu back like that, who will marry her? They will call her isifebe, they will say she killed her husband.'" Isifebe. The word cut me. "He said he will give you a name. A roof. You don't have to share a bed with him. Just... stay as a Gumede. Until you are strong again." She held my face. "But if you don't want, I will fight them. I swear on my son's grave, I will put you on a taxi myself and send you home to your mother. Tell me what you want, Makoti. Not what they want. What does Nomafu want?" Outside the bedroom window, I could see Sifiso standing in the yard. Alone. Smoking. Looking at Nqobi's car. He didn't look like a man who wanted a new wife. He looked like a man who had just lost his brother too. "As Sifiso's wife." The words didn't make sense at first. I thought I heard wrong. Sifiso's wife? I looked at my mother-in-law. She had her hand over her mouth. She was looking away. "Ma?" I whispered. No one answered. Then it hit me. My chest started shaking before the tears came. Not loud wailing like at the cemetery. This was silent, painful. My shoulders shaking, tears burning down my face without me making a sound. "Not... not so long ago Nqobi was my world," I managed to say, my voice broken. "Not so long ago it was him. Two days ago I was his wife. Now... now I have to pretend like I love someone else? Like this?" I looked at Sifiso. He wouldn't meet my eyes anymore. "Why?" I said, louder this time, the pain cracking through. "Why me? Why now? My husband is not even cold... and you... you have your own wife, Sifiso!" The room went dead quiet. Sifiso's head snapped up. "We are divorced, Nomafu. You know that." "Divorced but she still comes here! Your children still call me Aunty! And you want me to... to just lie here and be your wife?" I stood up, my chair falling behind me. "I cannot. I cannot do this. Nqobi was my everything. Usofas'lahlane wami. You cannot ask me to replace him like he was nothing!" I ran out. I didn't wait for permission. I ran past my mother-in-law, past Zanele in the hallway, and locked myself in the bedroom again. Behind me, I heard Malume Themba say, "She is still young. She will understand. She has nowhere else to go.".I was on the floor again. Back against the bed. My knees to my chest. I could hear them arguing in the dining room. My mother-in-law's voice getting louder, then Malume Themba shutting her down. Then a soft knock. Not like Zanele's panicked one. Slow. Tired. "Nomafu?" It was Mama. I didn't answer. She opened the door anyway. She had a cup of tea in her hands. She sat down next to me on the floor, even in her black dress. "Drink, ngane yami." I shook my head. She sighed and put the cup down. She touched my hair. The way my own mother used to. "Listen to me, my daughter. What they said in there... it is not to hurt you." I laughed, but it came out as a sob. "Not to hurt me? Mama, two days ago I was burying my dreams. Now they want to bury me with another man." "No," she said firmly. "No one is burying you. Do you think I want this? Sifiso is my son, but Nqobi was my baby. My last born." Her eyes filled with tears finally. The first time I saw her cry today. "Themba thinks about lobola. About what people will say. That we took money and then sent you back empty with bad luck. But Sifiso..." She looked towards the door. "Sifiso said he will do it to protect you. Not because he wants a wife. His wife left him three years ago, Nomafu. She lives in Durban with another man. He is alone with his thoughts. He said, 'If we send Nomafu back like that, who will marry her? They will call her a witch , they will say she killed her husband.'" Witch. The word cut me. "He said he will give you a name. A roof. You don't have to share a bed with him. Just... stay as a Gumede. Until you are strong again." She held my face. "But if you don't want, I will fight them. I swear on my son's grave, I will put you on a taxi myself and send you home to your mother. Tell me what you want, Makoti. Not what they want. What does Nomafu want?" Outside the bedroom window, I could see Sifiso standing in the yard. Alone. Smoking. Looking at Nqobi's car. He didn't look like a man who wanted a new wife. He looked like a man who had just lost his brother too.