Chapter 2 - The Road Back to Makhuni
By the time I finished showering, the afternoon was slipping away.
I changed into high-waisted jeans, a fitted corset top, a jacket, and boots.
We had no overnight bags because I needed to return for an early meeting the following morning.
When I entered the living room, Mthente was standing beside the door.
He looked as though he'd been waiting for an execution.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded.
Outside, the afternoon air was warm, but something about his silence made me uneasy.
As we settled into the car, I tried to lighten the mood.
“Do you still remember the way home?”
He glanced at me.
“I've been to Makhuni, Nangomusa. Just not to the Ngubane homestead.”
I smiled.
“Then let's go.”
The drive was supposed to take approximately an hour and forty-five minutes.
For the first half hour, Mthente barely spoke.
He kept both hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road.
I eventually asked whether we should stop to buy his mother bread, groceries, or cold drinks.
He released a tired breath.
“She won't accept anything bought with my money.”
I turned toward him.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
He paused.
“She won't even let me build her a decent house.”
There was bitterness in his voice, but underneath it, I heard shame.
He'd earned money doing terrible things.
Now that he was trying to earn an honest living, his mother couldn't bring herself to trust anything he offered.
“Mthente, I'm not going there to inspect your mother's house.”
“I know.”
“I'm going because you need someone beside you.”
He looked at me briefly.
Then he reached across the center console and squeezed my hand.
As we approached Makhuni, the scenery became breathtaking.
The setting sun illuminated rolling green hills, open fields, and scattered homesteads.
For a moment, I forgot why we were traveling there.
“You grew up surrounded by all this beauty?”
“Yeah.”
His answer carried no enthusiasm.
I realized that the hills probably reminded him of things I knew nothing about.
I wondered about the boy he'd once been.
Had he played soccer with the other village children?
Had he been a good student?
Had he ever imagined becoming a husband or father?
Or had his childhood been filled with the same fear that followed him into adulthood?
I wanted to ask.
But he was already struggling.
Eventually, he slowed down and turned onto a narrow dirt road.
We passed several small homes before approaching a spacious homestead.
Three traditional roundhouses and one flat-roofed building stood inside a neatly maintained yard.
All four buildings were painted blue.
The walls were uneven, suggesting they'd been constructed from mud bricks years earlier.
There was a chicken coop near one side of the property and an empty cattle enclosure farther away.
Mthente parked.
Then he simply sat there.
“Babe?”
He stared at the buildings.
“I haven't been here in a long time.”
I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him.
He held me tightly.
“Whatever happens,” I whispered, “I'm right here.”
He nodded.
We stepped out and walked toward the nearest roundhouse.
The homestead was strangely quiet.
No children played in the yard.
No radio played inside.
Finally, Mthente knocked.
A short woman appeared in the doorway.
She wore a faded brown skirt, an oversized T-shirt, and a headscarf.
Her face was weathered, and her eyes looked exhausted.
“Sawubona, Ma,” Mthente said.
She studied him before looking directly at me.
“Who is this?”
“My girlfriend. Nangomusa.”
I offered a respectful greeting.
But her expression didn't soften.
“Is this the same girl someone called me about this morning?”
“Yes, Ma.”
She looked at him with unmistakable disappointment.
“You didn't send her back to her parents?”
Mthente swallowed.
“Can we please come inside and talk?”
She hesitated before stepping aside.
“Come in.”
I followed him through the doorway.
May you like
And immediately, I noticed something so unusual that I stopped walking.
The room looked as though someone had removed almost everything from it.
