Lerato Stories

She built the empire. He was sent to destroy it. Neither expected love to become the most dangerous variable.

At twenty-seven, Zinhle Dlamini has everything the world tells ambitious women to want: a Sandton penthouse, a Forbes Africa cover story, and ZiTech, the fintech company she built from nothing into a billion-rand success. Her life is polished, disciplined, and carefully controlled.

Then an emergency board meeting changes everything.

Her trusted CFO launches a coordinated attack on her leadership, and sitting at the far end of the boardroom is Kai Ndlovu, a devastatingly intelligent strategic consultant with a reputation for quietly dismantling companies from the inside. He has spent six years helping powerful investors acquire founder-led businesses. ZiTech is supposed to be just another assignment.

But Zinhle sees through him almost immediately.

As anonymous warnings begin arriving in her inbox, she discovers that the hostile takeover reaches far beyond corporate politics. Hidden shell companies lead back to her own family trust. The mother who always wanted her to abandon fintech for the Dlamini dynasty may have been buying her company out from under her for nearly a year. And somewhere in Cape Town, Nia, the twin sister whose existence is a closely guarded secret, appears to be connected to Kai in ways that make coincidence impossible.

With billions at stake, allies becoming suspects, and attraction burning between two people who should never trust each other, Zinhle must decide whether protecting her empire is worth sacrificing the people she loves — and whether the man who knows all her vulnerabilities is her greatest threat or the only person capable of helping her survive what is coming.

Soft Life Savage is a glamorous, high-stakes African romance-thriller about power, betrayal, legacy, and the dangerous cost of being a woman who refuses to be owned.

PART ONE: THE SOFT LIFE

---

Chapter 1: The Day Everything Looked Perfect

The morning Zinhle Dlamini lost everything started the same way all her best mornings did, with Lebo stealing her oat milk.

"You bought the expensive brand," Lebo said, not even looking up from her phone, pouring a generous amount into her rooibos tea like it was completely normal to help yourself to someone else's groceries in their own penthouse kitchen. "The one with the macadamia. I'm not apologising."

"That's forty-two rands, Lebo!"

"Invoice me." Lebo finally looked up, and her expression shifted from unbothered to something that looked dangerously close to concern. "You look terrible, by the way. Like, beautiful, obviously. But terrible."

Zinhle was already dressed. It was six-fourteen in the morning and she was in a camel blazer, tailored trousers and heels that cost more than most people's monthly rent, standing in her own kitchen in the Melrose Arch penthouse she had bought at twenty-five with her own money. Her own money. She needed to keep reminding herself of that lately.

"Board meeting at nine," she said.

"It's Tuesday."

"I know what day it is, Lebo."

"Board meetings are Thursdays."

Zinhle poured herself a coffee and said nothing. The Johannesburg skyline stretched out behind her through floor-to-ceiling glass, gold and grey in the early morning, the city not yet fully awake. She had always loved this view. She had chosen this apartment partly because of it, the way the city looked like it belonged to her and not the other way around. Twenty-seven years old, founder and CEO of ZiTech Financial Solutions, Forbes Africa 30 Under 30, two years running. The view had felt like a promise kept.

Lately it just felt like a lot of glass to fall through.

"They moved it," Zinhle said finally. "Marcus sent a notice last night at eleven. Emergency session."

Lebo put down her tea. "Which Marcus? Not Marcus Khumalo."

"The very one."

"Your own CFO called an emergency board meeting and told you about it at eleven pm the night before?"

"He CC'd me," Zinhle said. "He CC'd me on the invitation to my own board meeting. Like I was an afterthought. Like I was the office admin he forgot to loop in."

There was a silence between them, the kind that fell between two women who had been best friends since their first year at Wits University, and knew exactly when to speak and when to simply let the horror of a situation breathe.

"Okay," Lebo said at last. "Okay, so we go in there and you destroy him."

"I'm not going to destroy him."

"Zinhle."

"I'm going to listen. I'm going to be calm and professional and completely in control, and then I am going to destroy him."

Lebo picked her tea back up. "That's my girl."

---

The ZiTech offices occupied the top three floors of a building in Sandton that Zinhle had chosen personally, a building with good bones and a lobby that made people feel, the moment they walked in, that they were in the presence of something serious. She had interviewed seven interior designers before choosing one who understood what she meant when she said she wanted the space to feel like confidence. Not arrogance. Confidence. There was a difference and most people got it wrong.

She walked through that lobby at eight-forty-seven and every person who looked up from their desk saw exactly what she intended them to see. Composed. Purposeful. Unthreatened. The heels helped. The blazer helped. The fact that her heart was beating slightly too fast was something only she and God knew.

Marcus Khumalo was already in the boardroom when she arrived. He was twenty-nine, which was still young enough to make his ambition look like energy rather than desperation, and he had been with ZiTech for two years, the hire Zinhle was most proud of and, she was beginning to understand, the one she would most regret. He was standing by the window with a coffee cup and the particular posture of a man who had decided something.

Three other board members were already seated. Vincent Osei, the investor from Accra who had backed ZiTech in its second year. Devi Singh, their legal counsel, who had the face of someone waiting for a dentist appointment. And then, in the chair at the far end that nobody ever sat in because it was technically Zinhle's backup chair, a man she had never seen before in her life.

He was tall, which she registered before anything else, and he was wearing a dark suit with no tie, which in this boardroom was either a statement or an oversight and nothing about him suggested oversight. He had a leather notebook open in front of him, and he was writing something in it, and he did not look up when she walked in, which was either extremely rude or extraordinarily confident.

Zinhle decided on the spot that she did not like him.

"Marcus," she said, taking her seat at the head of the table with the kind of deliberate ease that she had practised, genuinely practised, in the mirror. "Would you like to introduce our guest before you explain why this meeting was called at eleven pm last night?"

Marcus smiled. It was a small smile, the smile of a man who thought he had already won. "Of course. Zinhle, this is Kai Ndlovu. He's been brought in as a strategic consultant to conduct an independent operational review of ZiTech."

The man at the far end finally looked up.

His eyes were very dark and very direct and he looked at her with the particular expression of someone who was already several steps ahead and was waiting, without impatience, for everyone else to catch up.

"Ms Dlamini," he said. His voice was low and even and gave nothing away. "I've read a great deal about you."

"I'm sure you have," Zinhle said. "I'd love to know who hired you."

"The board," Marcus said smoothly.

"The board reports to me."

"The board also has a fiduciary duty to shareholders, Zinhle, which is why, given recent performance metrics and some concerns that have been raised in the last quarter—"

"What concerns?" Her voice was perfectly level. She had promised herself perfectly level.

Marcus opened a folder. He had a folder. He had come to this meeting with a physical, printed folder, which meant he had been planning this for long enough to have documents prepared, which meant this was not an emergency at all, it was an ambush dressed up in corporate language and served with coffee.

She kept her eyes on Kai Ndlovu while Marcus spoke. Kai Ndlovu kept his eyes on her. He had not written anything else in his notebook since she sat down. He was just watching her, the way you watch something you are trying to understand before you take it apart.

She made a decision, looking at him across that table in her own boardroom in her own company in the city that she had conquered at twenty-five.

Whatever this was, she was not going to lose.

She just didn't know yet how much she would have to sacrifice to win.

---

Later, she would think about this morning often. She would think about the oat milk and the view and the exact moment Kai Ndlovu looked up at her across that boardroom table. She would think about how clean everything still was, how the disaster had not yet arrived in full, how she was still, technically, everything she had built herself to be.

She would think: I should have known. All the best disasters announce themselves as ordinary mornings.

---

“Come here,” he says after I put the lunch tins into the bag.

He lies on his back and pulls me to lie on top of him. I'm lying on top of him looking at his handsome caramel face.

“I love you, Letty.”

“I love you too.”

He raises his head a little and our lips crash. Passionately kissing, his hands find my back which he slowly caresses, awakening my inner goddess.

“B.. babe,” I moan and something twitches beneath me.

He stops me from deepening the kiss. “Uhm...no. Let us not lead each other to temptation.”

“I want to feel it, I want to know how it feels. My friends say s*x is awesome...”

“No, baby. I don't have condoms and we don't want to regret this afterwards. I want our first time to be special.”

My face falls as I sulk.

“Okay. I know your hormones are controlling you right now since you are close to your menstrual date, let me do something else then.”

“What?”

“Something that will make you feel good and stop sulking.”

He flips and carefully lays me down on the leaves. My heart pounds in my chest as he pushes my dress upwards leaving me half naked. All of a sudden I'm feeling scared but the desire is overpowering my fear.

“Relax, it won't hurt,” he slowly pulls my pant down before sniffing it and shoving it into his back pocket.

“You smell nice, baby,” he kisses my belly button and my back involuntarily acts. His hand moves to my cookie jar and...

His hand moves to my cookie jar and he runs his thumb on my va**na lips. His warm touch is making me feel all the unexplainable things I have never felt before. I can't lie still, I feel like moving.

“Mmm... So much progress down here. I'm loving your flaps, baby,” he says and I blush.

The first time he saw them was when he taught me how to shave myself using a razor and not cut my skin. They were not of the same length as they are now, I had just started pulling them back then and now they are okay. My aunt said they should be the size of a match-stick's length. We have done some crazy stuff together but we haven't had s*x before, not even oral s*x. He's very disciplined when it comes to handling his s*xual drive.

I watch in awe as he moves his fingers around my coochie in a slow and pleasurably manner. He picks both my legs up and spread them wider. Leaning down, he buries his head down there and I feel his wet tongue slowly running up and down my wet, soft meat.

“Oh..” I moan as he concentrates on my c**t. “Oh, babe...” he continues to torture me with pleasure.

“You like that?” he asks, I nod. He continues teasing my c**t then my flaps with his skilled tongue, rendering me helpless. I feel something strange happening to my body, it's a strong feeling that arises from my toes straight to my belly before sending the signal all over my body. He let go of my legs, his hand find it's way to my chest and he plays with my ni**le. The feeling intensifies and my whole body vibrates. I hold on tight to his head forcing him to go harder on me, the feeling gets even better and I throw my head back, roll my eyes upwards as I moan his name.

“Brandon...”

This is heaven. This is what they mean when they talk about paradise.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he leans down and kisses me after letting my body return to earth.

“Hey, handsome,” we both smile.

“W-what just happened to my body?” I hide my embarrassment by looking away.

“Look at me, baby.” I do as told and try to keep still, the butterflies in my stomach are up and very lively.

“Congratulations, you just had your first of many or***ms, he winks.

“Wow! So my friends were right, s*x is really good and heavenly...”

“We haven't had s*x yet. Wait until you experience the real deal...”

“How do you know?”

“I have had s*x before, baby,” he says and I push him off me.

“What now?”

“I'm not your first?” Hurt is audible in my tone.

“Come on, baby. Don't be like those girls who get angry for every minor thing. It was way before you and I started dating. Don't be jealous, okay?” he pulls me closer and pecks my lips.

“My desire is only for you, it's only you S’thandwa sami.” I feel a little jealous, I won't lie. I want to ask who the girl is but that will make me look desperate and jealous.

We continue talking while I lay my head on his chest until we hear someone clearing his throat. We both jump and look around.

“Ufunani lapha Nduna? (Why are you here, Nduna?)” Brandon is annoyed by his brother.

“The last time I checked, this was the public space. Forgive me if I'm not aware of the new privacy regulations,” he smirks, Brandon clenches his jaw.

“Let's go Letty...”

“Oh no, little brother, don't cut your romantic outing short because of me. I'm just passing by and my lips are sealed.”
“Keep moving then. You are disturbing our peace.”

“I don't know why you always play territorial when I'm around. Your girl is not my type, you can relax yourself, brother. Besides, if I want her I can get her right in front of you. They don't call me Nduna for nothing, I rule the streets mafana.” Brandon wants to snap but I squeeze his hand. There's something about his

brother that I don't understand and I'm certain he's doing all this to annoy my man.

“Here you are, Munchkin!” Qeqeshiwe, one of the baddest girls in the village runs into Nduna's arms.

“What? You two are dating?” Brandon is as shocked, just as I am.

“Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?” responds Qeqeshiwe, arrogantly.

“Just asking,” he shrugs.

Wow! Wonders shall never end. Qeqeshiwe, a spoiled brat and one of the rich kids around is dating Nduna? Nduna is the perfect definition of ‘Kazalanga wabola amathumbu’, all he does is to get into trouble, smoke, drink and sleep with innocent girls.

“I guess this is our cue, Letty. Let's go,” he helps me up, hangs the bag over his shoulder and puts his free arm around my waist. I feel loved and I can live in this moment forever.

Read the book here:

https://klevabasket.com/lerato/book/?bookId=5f9838f7-33ed-41bf-a0dc-b47f8214d6b6

Leticia - Sukoluhle Nontokozo Mdlongwa

PROLOGUE

“Yadlul' iminyaka ngingal’boni
Yadlul' iminyka ngingalbon' isoka kam Yadlul' iminyaka ngingalboni
Yadlul' iminyka ngingalbon' isoka lam Zongthola ngbhlom' emlanjeni
Zongthola ngbhlom' emlanjani soka lami Zongthola ngbhlom' emlanjeni
Zongthola ngbhlom' emlanjani soka lami...”

An angelic voice sings so beautifully even the birds stop chirping and listen. She sings so beautifully that the men who are bathing at the male side of the river stop and listen in awe.

“Wow! I'm sure an Angel just graced our cursed village,” says Bekithemba, the one referred to as ‘ingqwele’ by every young man in the Seshanke village.

Everyone respects him for his skills of stick fighting. No man of his generation has ever dared to challenge him in a fight.
“I don't know why you keep saying our land is cursed. We have beautiful things here man, for example, we have beautiful pure girls,” Brandon, his friend defends his village.
“I don't know, man,” Bekithemba continues to rub soap on his body.

‘Awu manje sthandwa sam Mina ngzokthola kuphi?
I will meet you in the river (You will meet me in the river) I will meet you in the river (You will meet me in the river)
Zongthola ngbhlom' emlanjeni sthandwa sami...’

The sweet voice continue singing and the young men smile at themselves.

“I wonder who is the boyfriend in question. He must be lucky to have a girl who can sing beautifully like this,” Brandon comments.

On the women side of the river, Letty is lost in her world, washing a pile of clothes using the small different pieces of soap she got from their neighbours.

“There you are!” Mbali, Letty's friend says, putting down the bucket. “Mbali, darling, were you looking for me?”

“Yes! Why didn't you tell me you were coming here? ”

“You disappeared on me yesterday, Mbali. Where was I supposed to see you and inform you about my plans?”
“Okay I get your point. Listen,” Mbali lowers her voice, “USimo bamdlile izolo

(Simo had s*x yesterday--)”

“You lie!” Letty stops scrubbing the clothes and look at Mbali.

“I'm not lying, girl. That's where I disappeared to yesterday. Neli knew about their plans and we followed them. She slept with Nduna behind the kraal,” Letty's eyes pop out in shock.

“No way!”

“I'm telling you! She was crying and now I think s*x is very painful.”

“Simo is too cheap! Behind the kraal? No man, that's just way below standard and with the well known womaniser. I'm disappointed in our friend.”

“Anyway, who were you singing for?” “No one. I haven't met the man of my dreams and I'm only fifteen, in case you have forgotten.”

“What kind if a man are you looking for? I mean when you are old enough?”

“Uhm...” she stops and looks at the young man standing just a few metres away from them. The young man looks to her direction, their eyes lock and she looks away.

Mbali follows Letty's gaze and her eyes land on the man. She's taken by the man's unique skin darkness and perfect white teeth. You would swear someone took him out of the eligible bachelors' magazine.
“Hey beautiful, ladies,” his voice is not deep as Mbali expected and that just turned her off.

“Hi. You shouldn't be on this side of the river,” says Letty.

“I know. I heard you sing and I couldn't help but find these wild fruits for you,” the young man moves closer and gives her ‘umviyo’ (wild fruits).

“Thank you,” Letty says.

“You can go now. You are violating rules of this village for something so small and useless—”

“Mbali!” Letty scolds.

Feeling offended, the man walks away.

“What? He's ugly anyway,” Mbali takes the fruits from Letty and starts eating. Letty shakes her head and continue washing. “I'm still waiting for your answer.”

“He should be light-skinned, tall, with a front teeth gap, educated and strong enough to protect me should the need arise. I want a man who will love me like they do in fairytales--”

“Hayi girl, there's nothing as such. Please revise what you just said, fairytales are just that, nothing else.”

Her name is Leticia Mhlanga. She has a unique story to tell, dreams and aspirations to chase and a dream husband to find. Will she find her perfect husband? Will her dreams come true?

Chapter 1: LETICIA POV

TWO YEARS LATER..

Days, weeks, months have passed, I kept praying and hoping that uBaba will call or send a letter at least but that never happened. It's been two good years now without hearing from my father. He hasn't sent anything for us with abomalayitsha like he used to.

We are struggling, I don't even remember the last time we had a decent meal in this home. I wonder if my father is still alive in South Africa or udliwe zindunduma zegoli?

My mother has become a laughing stock to the villagers, the woman who used to wear nice slippers and dresses now walks barefooted with her cracked heels leaving prints on the sandy ground. I don't know how she still manages to smile through it all. Had I been in her shoes, I would be dead by now. The way people are making funny of her misery is heartbreaking.

At school people make fun of my torn uniform that has lost its colour and my old slippers that have a huge hole at the back. My heels are starting to crack too, because these slippers ain't helping or protecting my feet in any way.

“Leticia Mhlanga, the headmaster would like to see you in his office now!” announces Maureen, the smartest kid on the block.

Maureen is living every child's dream. From her clothes, shoes, her scent, everything about her screams money. Her untainted smile set on a clear skin face and brains to match the beauty, what a perfect combination! Some people are really blessed.

“Letty?” Mbali shakes me out of my reverie.

“Huh? Flip! The headmaster wants to see me, right?” “Are you okay?” Mbali's face is plastered with concern.

“I'm fine.”

The headmaster's summons no longer scare me. I know why he's calling me and I'm just going there to confirm what my brain already knows.

I knock twice before he raises his head and tells me to come in. I take a deep breath and sit down opposite him. He continues typing on the computer, he presses the mouse and then focuses his attention on me.

“Letty, when are you paying your school fees debt?” he calmly asks. “My father still hasn't contacted us, Sir,” I respond. It's now public knowledge that my father is missing in action. He has forgotten not only his duties, but his only daughter too.

“We can't keep waiting for someone we don't know if he's still alive or he long died--”

“My father is alive, Sir!” I yell. How dare he?

“Calm down...”

“No Sir! You don't go around certifying people dead simply because their children are poor!” How dare he say my father is dead? How dare he? I'm fuming and my blood is boiling already.

“I apologise for that it came out wrong. Unfortunately, I have to expel you, Letty. You haven't paid for 5 terms...”

My eyes are tearing up already. I don't want to break in front of him though. God please give me strength to go through this.

“Please leave the school premises, you are dismissed with immediate effect. Come back when you have money to pay off your debt,” he tries to mask the heaviness of what he just said with calmness but it doesn't get easy.

I swallow hard as a stray tear runs down my cheek and falls on my fist. “I'm sorry.”

“I understand,” I say and force a painful lump down my throat as I make my way out.

My vision blurs with every step I take and the pain rippling through my heart right now cannot be matched with anything. School was last my option to save myself and my mother.

I had to study hard, ace my exams that are coming up in a few months but now this? Talking of examinations, I haven't registered, my mother is still trying to raise the needed amount but it's hard. She goes door to door selling vegetables but most people in my village don't have money to buy.

They usually do barter trade, that's how we've been surviving for two good years.

“Letty?” someone shakes me and I realise I'm sitting on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees. “What happened?” Mbali asks.

“My dream is over friend. It was but just a dream! Education is for those who can afford it. I guess I was too ambitious,” I sniff.

“What are you talking about?” Mbali is confused.

“They sent me home and I'm only to come back when I have money to pay off my debt....” my voice trails off as tears stream down my cheeks. She hugs me and we cry together.

“Mbali? What are you doing outside when you should in class?” Miss Mutero, our Fashion and Fabrics teacher asks.

“My friend needs me, ma'am,” Mbali respectfully replies.

“Keep playing with this poverty stricken stinking girl you will one day regret. Why do you care about her when her own father doesn't care? Even God has forsaken this one but you are still stuck with her...”

“Ma'am, stop!” Mbali shouts. “Where I come from we don't judge people based on money. It's the heart that counts but of course how would you know that? I'm sure from where you come from poor people belong to the zoo, right?” Miss Mutero blinks rapidly with her long lashes that make her look like the cat woman...no scratch that.

The Catwoman is way more beautiful than her. She looks at Mbali once more and leaves us alone.

“Friend, go home, we will make a plan. Stop crying, you are strong. Don't break now. We fall to rise, right?” I nod with tears still running down my cheeks. “Good. Let me bring your books.”

I watch her run to our classroom and comes back with my torn Tastic Rice plastic bag which has my few books inside.

“Here. We always share our lunch but today you will have it all alone. Go straight home, I will see you later.”

“Ngiyabonga, mngane (Thank you, friend),” I mean every word of it.

“That's what friends are for,” she helps me up and we hug.

I drag my feet towards the gate, every step I take leading me a step further away from my dreams and my heart sinking.

My mother is going through a lot already, how will she handle this? God, what sin did my mother and I commit to deserve this?

Chapter 2: S’NINI POV

I don't know what I did to deserve this punishment. How can someone disappear from the face of earth like a caterpillar? Where did my husband go? My brother who is also in South Africa says he moved from Hilbrow to Lusikisiki in Eastern Cape and that was the last time they saw or heard from him.

Could he be married? I have heard stories about Xhosa women in South Africa and how they sn**ch our husbands and treat them like gods. It is allegedly that once a Xhosa woman locks the bedroom door with your husband then you should start moving on because there's no way he will come back to you.

“Ekuhle! Ekuhle!” Someone calls out. I sigh and wipe my face before stepping out.

“Good afternoon Letty's mother.”

It's Brandon, our neighbours' son.

“Brandon? Why are you not as school?”

“My mom had sent me to Zhombe Shopping Centre to buy a few things for her. I just came back,” he says.

“Oh, I see. How can I help you?”

“Uhm...” he looks down and starts drawing circles with his shoe.

“What is it? Why are you shy all of a sudden?”

“Uhm... I brought these for you and Letty,” he gives me a plastic bag filled with goodies and my eyes burn with tears as I take a peak inside the plastic and see pads.

“Brandon—” something chokes me.

“It's okay, Mama kaLetty. I promised to buy these for Letty please don't refuse them. They will mean a lot to her, ” he pleads.

I look at him and wonder what good deed did my daughter do in her past life to deserve a friend like Brandon.

“Where did you get the money? I hope you didn't steal from your mother?”

“No. I... I went to the Sinyoro ranch, helped people cut thatching grass and also sold one of my chickens to raise the money,” he says looking down.

“You don't have to be shy. I know you like my daughter—” “Not like that, Mama kaLetty,” he smiles.

“If you say so. Thank you so much, I will give everything to her when she comes back from school.”

“Okay. Can I have your empty buckets of water? I'm going to fetch water.”

“You have done enough for us today, son—”

“Please, I'm going with my brothers with a donkey-cart, it will save Letty some time to do her homework.”

He begs me until I give in and let him take the buckets.

“Mama, Mama...” Did I hear correctly? That sounds like Letty's voice.

“Mama,” I step out of the hot and smoky hut to see my daughter dragging her torn slippers through the gate. She throws herself under the guava tree shade and weeps.

“Why are you here at this hour, Letty?” I ask wiping a film of sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

“I don't want to live anymore mom. I want to die—” tears roll down her cheeks.

“No, my baby. You can't die yet, you are everything I have and I won't survive if you die,” I hug her tight. She sobs even harder, I secretly wipe my own tears. “Everything will be fine, my baby. Stop crying, whatever it is we will go through it together.”

“They expelled me from school, Mama. He-he said I should come back only when I have money—”

Seeing my only daughter crying like this tears my already torn heart further.

“I will make a plan. Wipe your tears and give me that beautiful smile of yours,” she faintly smiles. “That's more like it,” I pull her closer and hug her.

“Ma, do you think my father is dea—”

“No, Letty!” I close her mouth before she can finish her sentence.

“I'm sure your father is fine maybe he's just struggling like us. I've heard that life is not all flashy and colourful in South Africa. Most people are suffering just like we are.”

She sighs. I don't know if I'm consoling her or myself. Whatever it is, I hope we get through this.

“Did you cook something?” she asks.

“Yes, my girl. I'm finishing up, go and change your clothes so we can eat.” At least now we have maize-meal that I managed to buy with tomatoes and our garden has all sorts of vegetables to choose from, we can say we are eating like normal people do.

“The parcel on the bed is yours. It's from Brandon,” I call out before forcing my tired self up.

Chapter 3: LETTY POV

What? Brandon bought all these for me? Where did he get the money? I hope he didn't steal from his brothers or parents or else he will be in trouble. T

here are 5 packets of Farai sanitary medium-sized pads, a chocolate slab, 2 litres of cooking oil, a pack of three panties, Vaseline, 2kgs of salt and sugar, Geisha bathing soap, Compral painkillers, roll-on and a 500g packet of Kapenta. There's a note which reads:

*** Hey S’thandwa sami. I'm sorry I couldn't buy everything you need. Please manage those until I make another plan. Don't eat the chocolate yet, it's for when your period pains are unbearable and the painkillers are for that too. I love you.****

Tears run down my cheeks as I read the note. Where would I be without him? I'd probably be using cow dung as pads with no underwear at all. My mother is struggling already and asking for money to buy pads when she uses cloths herself will add to her pain and suffering.

“You are crying?” Brandon startles me, I quickly wipe my tears.

“I'm not,” I shyly smile as he makes his way in.

“Yes you are. You can't hide from me, baby, I know you like the back of my hand,” he pulls me up and hugs me tight.

“Your mother told me everything. We will make a plan,” he says into my ear sending tingling sensations down my spine and straight to my belly.

“Your breathing is accelerating,” he teases with his bushy eyebrow raised. I look down and start drawing circles on the floor with my toe.

“Look at me,” he cups my cheeks and French kisses me. I moan into his mouth and I feel his b***r growing. “F !” he steps back and packs his b***r, trying to hide it.

“I'm ready,” the words tumble out of my mouth before I can process them.

“No, sweetheart, you are not. You are only 16, we are both still at school. My promise still stands, I'm not going to undress you until I pay lobola for you and claim you as my wife before the Lord and my community. You are special to me, and you should be treated as such,” he baby kisses me.

“I came to check on you for a second, let me go before your mother hits me for disrespecting her home. Let's meet tomorrow around midday at the river. I love you.”

“Okay. Thank you for the parcel and I love you too.”

Chapter 4: LETTY POV

Today we are going to change our diet a little bit and I'm over the moon. Kapenta is my favourite relish and Brandon knows that. Him and I have been friends ever since he came to Zimbabwe when he was 10 years old and I was 8.

He grew up in South Africa with his dad and stepmother. His father has three wives and the second wife lives in South Africa with his father. She can't have her own children and she treats all the Mthethwa children as hers. She has a pure heart. If my father is married out there it better be a sweet woman or we will have a problem. Did I just say that? I must be out of my mind.

“Letty,” my mother calls.

“Yes, Mom.”

She sighs. I know something is troubling her. My school fees? My dad? Shortage of food? I wonder which is troubling her soul a lot.

She worries a lot and all the stress is now making her age faster than she should. She even now has permanent eye bags and wrinkles are starting to show on her face.

“I'm going to the fields. I want to check if everything is alright, you know your uncle thinks he can do as he pleases in our fields. I will be back in a few minutes, prepare dinner,” she sighs, once again.

“Are you okay, Mom?” I ask.

“I'm fine, my girl. Don't worry about me, I'm just tired from the walking and working in the fields,” her smile doesn't reach her eyes but I let her be. If she doesn't want to talk about it then I won't force her.

“Okay mom. Please bring pumpkin leaves and corn.”

“I will. We don't have candles or paraffin so you better hurry up before it becomes dark outside,” she reminds me and leaves.

I lean on the doorframe and watch her disappear through the gate then the tall grass and she's out of sight.

My mother now looks skinny, tired and troubled. I don't blame her though, everything in this home is tiring and I can't imagine the s*xual frustration she's downplaying just to make me feel better.

I haven't had s*x before but I have heard that if you are used to having it and you suddenly have no means to get it, you become a grumpy and frustrated someone.

“Hey, love,” Mbali brings me back to where I am. “Hey. You are back from school,” we briefly hug.

“Yeah. I brought your homework and notes. Do it and I will pass by in the morning to take your books for marking. Our Maths, Science, Accounting and English teachers agreed to mark your work even if you won't be attending class.

Mr Mashoko, our Maths teacher, wants you to answer these questions. They are based on what we studied this week. Here, I stole my mom's candles. Don't disappoint me,” I emotionally hug her. God did not give me a biological sibling but in Mbali, I have a friend, a sister and everything.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much friend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she doesn't like it when I get emotional. “I saw Brandon's shoe print all over the yard, why was he here?” she raises her eyebrows.

“He came to see my mother. His mother had sent him on an errand—”

She smacks me on the head.

“Do I look stupid to you? You left school with tears running down your cheeks and here you are, all smiley faces and energetic and you want me to believe this has nothing to do with lover boy?”

“Okay fine. He came to see me, he brought me some goodies.”

“Really?” I nod and usher her inside my hut. I open my wardrobe and show her what Brandon bought for me.

“Ncoow! So thoughtful of him,” she says and wipes a stray tear.

“Why are you crying?” This one never stops with surprises.

“It's... it's because life is not fair. We used to see new trends of everything on you, you were living a dream life. A fairytale, that's how your life was when your father used to send groceries and clothes every month. You used to give me one of your best clothes, you shared your happiness with us and now this.

Brandon is a good guy, I don't dispute that but it shouldn't be like this! He's not supposed to be playing your father's role, you two are supposed to be happy whispering sweet nothings to each other but no, he has to work extra hard to take care of you. It's so unfair to you guys, I hate whoever has the key to our fates! It's so unfair!” she cries. Mbali's love for me runs deeper.

Whenever I'm in some kind of trouble, she's the one who suffers the most.

“It's okay my friend,” I hug her. “We will be fine, everything will be fine.”

“You think? We have to find money for your registration, the deadline is in two weeks time.”

“We will cross that bridge when we get there,” I say. I used to have faith but now I have accepted my fate. Education is for the rich, the poor should just focus invsubsistence farming and rearing cattle.

“You sound like someone who has given up. Please don't give up, we will find a way, I promise.”

“I don't know friend. Let's go to the kitchen.”

“I have to go. I also have to cook, my sister is not feeling well today.”

Chapter 5: BRANDON POV

“U nono ngowami Buleli nchazo yenu
Mama no tata wami abazali bami Mama... u nono ngowami
Buleli nchazo yenu mama notata wam abazali bam Hhaa asambe nono siyolala siyolala embhedeni Ndinombono ×2
Kuzawuphel'icesha mina nawe sithandana ...

“Brandon? Bhudiza!” my mother shouts and switches the radio completely off.

“Sorry, Mamzo,” I say.

She frustratedly sighs.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to make noise? You woke the baby up! Who is this Nono that has my son smiling to himself like a lunatic? ”

“It's no one, Mom. Can't I just play a song? It's just a song, you know—”

“I was once your age, Brandon. Your father too passed that stage. I hope it's not Leticia because that girl will never be my daughter in-law. I want you to marry from a family of your status. We are not poor, my son, we are one of the well-off families in this village.”

“Is that why you came here mom? To mock the poor?” I'm annoyed already. I love my mother but if she keeps taunting my girl like this, we will have a problem.

“Why do you care about the poor so much?”

“They are human beings too, Mom! They breathe the same air as you do! They are not here by mistake but for a purpose—”

“Don't you dare yell at me!”

Here we go again. Why am I still here anyway? For Letty, for my beloved only, otherwise I would take the first flight to Jo'burg then Cape Town to my father.

“I don't want to fight, Mom. Who I marry is my choice, you have no say in that. Why are we even talking about marriage right now? Why did you come here, Mom?”

“Your father called. He said you should call him, he's been trying to get hold of you.”

“Okay, I will do so,” I turn and continue folding my clothes.

“She's already making us fight, can't you see she's not good for you?”

“Letty is not causing any conflict between us. You are so used to conflicts, Mom, and it has blinded you to a point of not being able to see good. All you see is black and bad, not everyone is out to get you, Mom. I understand you are still hurting because Dad decided to marry two more wives after you but that shouldn't be your reason to hate everyone. If there's someone you should hate, it's your husband, not everyone. Also, stop labeling people poor. It's inhumane.”

“You will remember my words one day,” she turns and leaves.

I fall on my back on the bed and frustratedly wipe my face using both my hands.

My mother is becoming difficult each and every day. Is it not enough that I have to deal with the hatred of my 19 out of 25 siblings and dad's third wife? These people will drive me crazy, I swear.

“Eh, mfana,” Nduna, my brother and my stepmother's first born, kicks my right foot.

“You smell like a ma*****na farm, dude. What's up?” I sit up and watch him tying his shoelaces.

“Can I use your bike? I'm going to check on some bitch in Tombankala. I will be back tomorrow,” he says and sticks a cigarette behind his ear.

“Okay, brother. Check the tires and the chain, Athandwa was the last person to use it.”

“Why do you have a relationship with that kid? He's a bastard child, man!” Athandwa's mother is not married to my dad.

“Says the first born of them all bastard kids. Dude, you may be older than me and many of us but that doesn't change the fact that you are also a bastard child. Stop trying to cause fights between all of us, I don't like it. I don't want to fight withvanyone. I just want peace. You are all my brothers and sisters.”

“Nxa kusitsho wena (If you say so). I'm leaving, cover for me.”

“Sho mfwethu. If they beat you up that side and you leave my bicycle, we will have a big problem. ”

“I have my weapons in place,” he pulls his jacket up, revealing a small axe tucked into his pants.

“One day you will go to jail because of this. Anyway, have a safe trip.”

I pick up my phone from the bed to find missed calls from my dad, my stepmother, the one who raised me. She's more of a mother to me than my mother will ever be. I'm about to call my dad when his call comes through.

“Mthethwa,” I answer my dad's call. “Mfolozi Omnyama,” he answers back.

“Dad, you should stop calling me with clan names. I think my elder brothers deserve it more than I do—”

“What's going on? You sound annoyed?”

“Your wife is driving me crazy, Dad. I'm so tired of her and her misdirected anger. Can you take her, just for a few weeks.”
“That's your mother, Son.”

“I know. Just that she's extra sometimes.”

“Who is this girl putting a strain on your relationship with your mother?”

“What? Unbelievable! So I go out there, work for my girl and I'm already labelled a disobedient son?”

“Nyambose, listen to me. Listen to understand, not to answer back otherwise you will fail as a man. I'm not angry at you, I'm doing my duty as a husband. One day you will realise that you have to serve your parents, your wife and your children at the same time. If you are not wise, you won't build a lasting home. Being a man is not easy, you are the head and that head shouldn't be empty. You can't lead a family when you have an empty head.

Your mother has every right to worry about who you marry, mothers feel replaced when a son finds someone to love. It's up to you to balance those two relationships. If you fail, only one will survive. When that happens, one of the women in your life will be bitter, bitterness will lead to enmity then witchcraft. Be wise son, learn to lead your life in a fair way. If you do that, you won't have problems with anyone. ”

“I understand. I'm sorry for lashing out.”

“It's okay. Don't forget to study while fending for your girl. You can ask me for money, you know—”\

“No, Dad. I don't want you to feed my future wife, she's mine and I have to provide for her.”

Chapter 6: NARRATOR POV

About one kilometre away from home, S’nini drags her feet on the ground.

“Ouch!” she cries out as a thorn finds it's way past her slippers and straight to her flesh. She bends and removes the thorn before continuing with her journey. Their fields are a little far away from homes and this always has her panicking when something cracks the leaves.

“Mama kaLetty,” a familiar male voice calls from behind.

“What do you want, Menzi?” Snini says with so much melancholy.

“Is it a sin to check on my brother's wife? It's my duty to make sure you and Letty are doing well,” responds Menzi.

“Then you should come home and see how we are doing. Stop sneaking around if you have nothing to hide.”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine as you can see. Now you can go home and see how your brother's daughter is doing.”

“I will see her later. Can I accompany you—”

“Menzi, no! Just go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone with my thoughts. I don't want to be disturbed. ”

“I still ask myself why my brother left such a beautiful woman like you. Look at your curvaceous body, your big eyes, your b***s that look like you are a virgin...” Menzi goes on and on complimenting S’nini. She walks past him and leaves him standing in the middle of the road.

“You are beautiful S’nini. I wish you can let me in your heart so I can show you how a beautiful woman like you should be treated. My brother doesn't deserve your loyalty.”

“Says a man who is failing to be loyal to a wife he shares a bed with on a daily basis,” S’nini fires and walks away. Menzi shamefully make his way home.

After checking if everything is okay at the fields, S’nini sits on the log and her mind wanders. She travels back in time, back when everything was okay between her and her husband. They were the happiest couple, their love could be seen in their eyes and smiles.

The laughter that reverberated from their home when they were together made every couple jealous. It was as if theirs was the only true love and others were just but partners.

“My uncle called,” Zenzo had said. “He said I should come to South Africa and try to fend for us that side. Our economy keeps deteriorating and soon we will die of hunger if I don't do something productive,” he continued.

“But, babe, we need you here,” Snini sulked.

“I know, my love, but we can't eat our love, can we?” she shook her head. Things were bad in Zimbabwe by the year 2008 and the worst part is that Zenzo was a teacher and there was little to no income for them.

They had been surviving on incentives that they were extorting from parents who were desperate to send their children to school but when the schools closed, life became difficult for everyone.

“You will have to let me go, my love. I promise, if things go well that side, I will visit home quarterly and I will make sure that you and our daughter have everything you need,” he caressed her thighs.

“What if you don't come back? What if you forget about us when you get there?” S’nini tearfully questioned. She had heard stories about how iGoli swallowed men. The possibility of her husband leaving her for another was too much to even think about.

“I would never do that. I love only you, now and forever,” he assured her. He kept his promises until two years back when he decided to disappear from the face of the earth without a word.

Tears flow down Snini's cheeks, she covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream.

“We were happy Zenzo. What happened then? Where are you?” she asks the question but no one is there to answer.

“Sne,” someone calls out making her jump, frightened. “It's me.”

“Bheki! You scared me, you pig,” Snini smiles with tears streaming down her face.

“You are crying, again! What's wrong, Sne?” Bheki moves closer to her and hugs her.

“Tears don't suit you, a smile does,” she bursts into tears and tighten her arms around his tiny body.

“It's okay. Whatever is bothering you will come to pass,” he rubs her back until she calms down. He makes her sit down and cleans her face using his handkerchief.

“Why are you always crying? I met you two years ago, you were crying then and you are still crying. What's eating you, Sne?”

“My name is S’nini not Sne! When will you get that straight?”

“Okay S’hlobo. Ukhalelani? (Why are you crying?)” she shakes her head, smiling. “I'm old enough to be your mother, Bheki, you should respect me.”

“I'm not crossing any lines here, I'm just asking you a question. Is it your husband?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay but can you stop with the tears? I hate seeing you like this.” “It's hard,” she says quietly.

“You are strong. You can do this, women are naturally fighters and they don't fight a losing battle. My mother raised me alone while my father was playing a happy family with children that weren't his.

They stayed opposite the road and you can imagine how painful it was for me and my mother to see my dad happy over there and to always smell nice food from them while we slept with empty stomachs.

My mother cried at the beginning, but one day she said “enough” and that was the last time she shed tears for that man. She toiled everyday to see me and my sister smile. She made sure we ate something and we went to school against all odds. Here I am, a graduate and waiting to go to work and my little sister is doing form 6. Her name is S’negugu,” he smiles and continues.

“It's her name I use to call you because you are both crybabies. Any way, what I'm saying is, a man who doesn't care about you and his daughter is not worth your tears. I to keep in touch. If your husband wanted you to know where he is and what he is doing then you would know. It's clear he doesn't want to be found, for now, maybe.

Do me a favour and stop crying. Work hard for your daughter, she's a brilliant kid and she won't make it if you falter now. You are her hope, her father already disappointed her, make sure you don't do the same. There's a magical power within you, tap on that power and unleash the superwoman in you. You can do this,” S’nini smiles looking at his innocent face.

He looks so young and tiny but when he speaks, he commands wisdom and authority.

“How old are you, again?”

“26, Mummy.” He smiles.

“You sound mature.”

“Thank you. Now that we are done crying and counselling, can I tell you the good news?”

“Yes, please. ”

“Remember that interview, the one I went to last year?” she nods.

“They called and I got the job offer--”

“Yesss! I told you the job was yours.” They hug in a celebratory mood. “I'm so proud of you, son,” he smiles.

“Thank you, Mommy,” his voice and how he calls her ‘Mommy’ always make her feel some kind of a way that she can not explain. “What?”

“Nothing,” S’nini looks down feeling embarrassed by her own thoughts.

“When it comes to women that word means a lot more. What's up Mommy? Feeling the heat?” he moves closer to her and puts his hands on her waist. Unable to move or say anything, she just stares into his eyes.

“I feel it too. Since the day we met,” he whispers making her whole body shiver in a good way.

“May I?” he asks and she closes her eyes in anticipation. He takes his time to admire her beautiful, flawless face before leaning over and kissing her.

His tongue twirls around hers and a moan escapes her her lips, his d!ck twitches. The kiss deepens and they both get lost in their own world of wonders.

“Stop!” S’nini breaks the kiss and quickly looks away feeling ashamed of herself. “I'm sorry, Bheki—”

“Shh! I kissed you not the other way around. You don't have to apologise. I like you—”

“I have to go,” S’nini literally runs way from him forgetting what she promised to bring for her daughter.

Bheki sighs, picks up his backpack and follows her.

Chapter 7: LETTY POV

I don't know what happened to my mother yesterday. She came home and went straight to bed, I tried asking her what the matter was but she told me to go and sleep. I hope it's nothing serious.

“Mama, Mom,” I call her. She slowly rolls on the bed and looks at me. Her eyes are reddish and puffy. She was crying, again! “I brought you porridge.”

“Thank you, my girl.”

She takes the bowl and eats in silence. Her mind is not here because if it was, she would taste the sourness of this porridge. I put lemon juice in it but I didn't add sugar.

“You are not okay, Mom. What happened yesterday?” “I met your uncle, Menzi,” she looks away.

“And?” I know my uncle wants to sleep with my mother but that hasn't bothered her this much before. Something is fishy here.

“It's nothing, Letty, forget it.”

“If it's nothing and it has nothing to do with Bheki, then take this backpack. He left it for you.”

“H-huh?” her hands tremble at the mention of Bheki's name.

“I suggest you talk to him, he looked sad when you refused to talk to him. I don't know what's going on between you two but all I know is that he keeps you company and he makes you forget about your problems for a minute. He's a good guy, Mom, and not so bad for a Ben10—” a pillow flies to my head and hits me before I finish my sentence.

“You are talking nonsense! Get out of my room!” I laugh and exit before she hits me again.

Chapter 8: BRANDON POV

“You black witch!” my youngest mother/stepmother yells and shouts more obscenities directed to my mother who is also matching her energy.

It's 5 in the morning for crying out loud! I cover my head with a pillow trying to reconnect with my sweet dream but all that is impossible now.

“You are the greatest witch in this world! I'm going to kill you today!” my mother fires back. Her voice is followed by a loud thud, then a scream which makes my heart skips a beat.

“Brother! Brother!” Athandwa screams while banging my door.

“They are killing each other!” he sounds panicked.

I quickly throw my vest over my head and run out. The scene right in front of my eyes is not for my innocent eyes to see. I'm too young to see my mothers' nakedness. I quickly close my eyes and turn my back on them.

“Mother, stop!” I yell hoping for my voice to be a miracle that will stop the two from fighting. A sound of a slap has me jumping a little. What do I do? My brothers are useless when it comes to our mothers fight. They say it's not their business. I'm still trying to figure out what to do when Sizile, our elder sister, runs out of her room with a duvet which she throws on top of our mothers. They mumble and scratch each other under the blanket.

“Can you both stop fighting like little children? Do you know the damage you are causing to us, as your children?” Sizile screams at them.

I sigh and sadly look at my mother whose nightie is now torn and she's struggling to keep it together.

“I'm so ashamed to be one of your daughters, at 50 years of age you still behave like a kid, Mom. What do you want us to do? You are the first wife, act like it! UMam'ncane should learn a good thing or two from you not this. You are destroying all of us by doing this.”

“Sisi, my child, I'm very sorry—”

“You always apologise, Mom! We always forgive you but you will do the same thing before sunset! Come on, give us a break!” Sizile walks away.

“You started this!” Mom pokes Mamncane's head and they start hitting each other again. Right now, I wish God can send a fire and destroy these two, I'm really fed up with their nonsense.

“MaMnisi! MaNcube!” Grandma rushes over. “What is this? As old as you both are, you are still going to embarrass your children like this? Are you not even ashamed of your slippers for breasts that you are displaying for your grown up children to see? Huh?” she smacks both their heads with her walking stick.

“Get up!” she commands.

“I'm sorry mother in-law—”

“Both of you are not eating anything today. You are going to spend the whole day at the fields chasing monkeys away—”

“Mother in-law—” MaNcube (the youngest wife) protests but grandma whips her with a stick.

“You shut up and listen when I'm talking! Bring your phones to my room.”

I look at my mother and shake my head disapprovingly before walking away.

I don't understand what dad was trying to prove by marrying three women. My mother gave him 9 children (6 boys and 3 girls), wasn't that enough for him?

MaNcube gave him 11 children but he still had to cheat making us a total of 25. TWENTY-FIVE children, all staying in the same yard. The set up of our home is as follows; all three wives have three bed roomed houses, a kitchen for each wife and a whole lot of huts for us (children). Only five of my brothers and three sisters are married and out of this yard so far. I don't know why Dad chose to let his wives stay in the same yard, it's not working and I doubt it will ever work.

“Morning, Sisi,” I hug her from behind.

“Whatever you want to ask from me, the answer is no,” she says and tries to free herself from my hug.

“It's for your beautiful sister in-law, is the answer still no?”

“That's blackmail! What do you want this time?”

“I'm meeting her later today and I will appreciate a special prepared dish—”

“No. No Bhudiza, I want to rest.”

Sizile is a preschool teacher at our local school, St Maria Primary. She always complains about how the children tire her.

“I know, Sis. Please do this for me, I'm begging you.” “Fine! Her favourite or a change will do.”

“A change will do. She's allergic to nuts, don't forget.”

“Okay. Go and chop firewood for me while I get the ingredients.” “Thank you, I love you.”

“Mxm!” she smiles revealing the Mthethwa signature; dimples.

Click on link to read book:

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