Ujamaa

By Dawood Adekoya

Pinky left her country many years ago, and her and her husband have worked very hard to build their dream in Toronto Canada and ever since she left she never looked back and the desire to go home to see family and friends was lost as time went by. But the sudden death of her husband brought an emotive wave of pain and sadness both in South Africa and in Canada and the need to reconnect with family became apparent but the gravity of the loss and responsibility that came afterwards posed a hugte challenge. Paul her 26 year old son stepped up to the challenge and for the first time decided he would go on a visit to South Africa but his encounter with his granny changed his point of view and he decided to stay in South Africa to make granny happy instead of his own mother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491895696

Dawood Adekoya

Dawood Adekoya is a Nigerian who moved to South Africa where he has stayed for ten years. He has also learnt a lot about the people and can now speak in IsiZulu one of the main languages. He is a Art and design graduate from Yaba college of technology but ever since he moved to South Africa got involved in the tourism industry. Ujamaa is his first story, and it was a quest to look into family bound and what may crack that bound wide open, and choices we make and how they later affect how lifes and most importantly Ujamaa sheds light on the idea of being firm and resolute in descisions we make even when life throws at us a curve ball.

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Ujamaa

DAWOOD ADEKOYA

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Dawood Adekoya. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/28/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-9568-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-9569-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

The Catalyst

Like A First Time

More Like Home Now

Making Good Of The Advice

Settling In Well

Getting Slowly Into The Thick Of Things

The Real Deal

A Smart Approach

Suddenly

A Swizzle Stick Affiar

A Fish Like Smell

The Perfect Fitting

The Writings On The Wall

Crossing Fingers

Cut!

The M Days

The Plan

Scratch And Patch

The Killer Instinct Step

Six Months Later

The Request

The Gathering

THE CATALYST

They blamed Abdulla Momo in certain quarters for simply not listening to good advice sometimes and sadly so; for the events that happened in his household thereafter. It was unnecessary really and that was Pinky Momo’s frustration about it, and it was there to stay as long as they lived, so she figured painfully. What it brought was sadness, bitter memories, regrets, and a general feeling of lackluster that lasted for weeks on end at number 35 Copper Avenue in an opulent suburb in the heart of Toronto Canada. But before this time life was perfectly alright. It’s been exactly three weeks and four days that Mo was buried. He had died in a car accident on his way east of the city to meet an associate. The drive wasn’t clearly favoured by Pinky his wife because he could have been patient, reschedule the meeting and simply make it two days later when the weather was reported to be clearer at minus four.

Mo was a good driver at any given day and fancied himself with added advantage in his bright yellow Dodge Turbo but this time he had miss judged and left the traction button too late at a sharp bend in high speed; this came from the investigators report. All these facts added to the bereavement of Pinky and her son. She had wept, slept less and starved daily prior to the burial, and lost weight in the processes and vowed to continue for another two to three months as a sign of love that is now detached due to his demise. Mo her one and only love, he left too soon she would sit and ask why many times with no answers.

Mo was a friend, husband, and Partner, whom she could not imagine facing the world without. And if for any thing she felt she had a good reason to harbor a low spirit and a grieving heart this was a good one. She wept nonstop.

In her mind she knew that if Mo was still with them nothing would have changed. And had he been listening to her and not do what he liked sometimes showing that he is the one that wears the pants in the house then there was truly no reason for anything to change because they were a happy family of three. Mo, the go-getter, Pinky the partner and Paul their handsome son who just recently turned 26 and on his first few weeks as a rookie Architect and also very active basketball player not a Pro but he and his High School mates kept a team and they get involve in neighborhood bets.

The bets do get so huge that its aim most times shifts inches away from team play to a machismo show of sought where new tattoos are lunched and that goes head to head with who is wearing the latest hair do, who wears the latest clothes, or whose car has the loudest sound system. Each game pulled its own crowd. If the game was held in the south the crowd plays fair. West-enders games get rowdy. And the girls all come and cheer their heroes. Paul was one of the Heroes until recently. He never featured in two games because he was in mourning. And the less game played the less heroic players get, with new stars born the tougher the game got.

Paul missed Dad so terribly and that weighed on him. Without Mo’s discipline and drive he would probably have being a different person. Mo taught Paul to be a young man without limits to what he can achieve if he set his eyes on them like an Eagle. Mo told him not to bow to pair pressure but to focus on achieving something worthy of mentioning in the society. This is priceless. And his eye’s dilates whenever he remembers that moment when his father told him those words. He often sniffles at those thoughts. His mother had an issue with him though, because he appeared to have embraced the act of disappearing quietly around the house. He said little, and he rarely eat but less than usual and food was constantly thrown in the trash can. Pinky felt worse but held herself afterral Mo was her husband. She had confronted him in a heart to heart, he told her that he felt chattered and didn’t think anything will ever make him better, but he promise to go for therapy after all had died down. This is because in his day Paul possessed a fine sense of humor. He was a lovely kid.

An intense two and a half hour at the shrink, fixed him up. He didn’t need another session so he told the Doctor, and promised to show his mother more support especially in the trying times. And the house dynamics grew happier, Paul appeared at dinner with his Mum regularly. He developed appetite for the food again and generally showed the support he said he would show. All this time three mates showed unrelenting sympathy too in their own different ways. Jadel Emmah a Cuban team mate who runs as a sales rep in a company in the city helped him to see the brighter side. Jadel loved good things. He got himself a budding Model girlfriend who is from the British Colombia, and he moved around in a black convertible. The only thin line was Jadel drank only beer. Paul favoured all but consumed non alcoholics only always playing the good boy. Jadel acted the big brother part. He helped him get out of his shell and face the world. Ishmael Ali a 30year old Somalian now residing in Toronto wasn’t a team mate but a diehard fan of the Dashhoppers. This is the team: the Dashhoppers. Ish, for short as People referred to him stayed in the CBD where he operated an Electronic shop with a friend so he couldn’t see Paul as often as he would like but kept in touch over the phone. And sometimes misses the games. But whenever he showed up for a game he would seldom appear at team talk to boost their moral with a few words with each line ending with ‘I know you guys can do it’. He showed his heroes too much love. He even told Paul that he was the best the Dashhoppers had after an intense game. Paul got the winner for the team and the crowd went into a frenzy of jubilation. Paul chuckled and said thanks. He always reminded him of that fact and it was meant to make him feel better and it took effect after a while. Ish knew his African connection, which was the attachment to Paul and the Dashhoppers. Ish was Muslim and he suspected Mo had that background somehow.

Next is Levi Todd. An America, who for some reason flew miles away to study Architecture in the University of Winnipeg, he was Paul’s look alike in a different kind of ways he was Asian American, and Paul’s class mate: they even share the same height. He just became a new addition to an Architect firm on the sixth floor of a rotunda glass building down town, got himself a small mint sedan. Todd was always a happy chap. He made it his duty that the good time rolled along very smoothly. And he is one friend that Pinky approved of among others. Todd managed to odiously drag him out to the pubs from time to time, to reconnect with people who sympathized with him. Once they entered a Belgian pub for a round of drinks and someone shouted Paul’s name from one corner of the bar, it was very embarrassing. ‘When will you be back in the team man? Sorry for your loss.’ He motioned at his wrist watch, in a couple of days he holler back. He scarcely knew who that was.

‘You set this up didn’t you?’ He accused Levi Todd.

‘I don’t know the guy I promise you’. Todd said as they eased on the bar stools to order drinks. ‘But I love it, you’ve got fans here’. Todd smiled. Paul lightened up and generally waved in the direction of the heavily bearded man who smiled back with his beer drinking friends. The bar ladies thought he was a real hero, one asked for a signature before he left shaking his head amused.

Pinky knew that for the rest of her life she had to play a dual role. She had her little boutique to tend to also the Chocolate factory she and Mo have built over the years, which was doing very well. The idea of Paul coming on boards was somehow valuable at this stage. The question was, is he ready for such challenges now that he just got himself a semi decent nine to five job working as a young inexperience professional under supervision for a couple of months until when he will be made permanent. Pinky spent a month on the idea. Then she ran a test. One Sunday evening Kelly the handmaid made lasagna, some Garlic bake and Apple pudding for desert. She knew it was Paul’s favorite and it was Pinky’s idea. She set the table for two; the third chair was respectively left alone. Mo used to sit on that chair.

Kelly announced that dinner was ready. Paul appeared first and took a seat. The aroma was obsessive. While he waited for his mother who took a torturous while to appear he inspected everything on offer to his satisfaction. Pinky later announced over dinner that she would love him to think about joining the family business. The clatter of spoon to plate quieted at that announcement. Paul took a deep breath, steered at his plate and slowly set a thoughtful gaze at his mother. He saw it coming but he didn’t know it will be too soon. But he had readymade answers if perchance the question came up at anytime and now was that time. Pinky played smart she knew her son well and he would want to do everything to avoid the topic so she steps up the gear. Before he could open his mouth, she stressed that that was his late father’s wish and it will only be respectful to somehow honor it. She also explained that he must think about everything and let her know what role he would like to play. On Paul’s side of the table there was relief; he needed the time to really think. Somberly and with carefully chosen words Paul’s reply was ‘Mum. Give me more time to think about it’. They shared an emotionally charged glance in dead silence, while Kelly peeped from the door way of the kitchen at the two of them eavesdropping and touched. Pinky nodded with a deep sigh and pushed the issue no further. And the clatter resumed.

At 7:40pm that evening someone rang the doorbell. Pinky was in her room browsing through the family album which she has taking as a new hobby of late looking back at life with her late husband in pictures and hoping that one day she will be joined with her husband again someday. Paul played solitaire on his computer in his room that’s his own way of coping with their loss. Kelly was in the middle of a knitting job in the Guestroom and enjoying a soft music, and Tiger the Alsatian went crazy at the incessant doorbell from somewhere at the back of the house. Since no one went for the door, because Paul usually did, Kelly went to see who it was. She saw two women and a young man through the peephole. She told Paul. When Paul checked, he found two of his mum’s friends and Ishmael Ali waiting outside. He was pleasantly surprised. Ish took one of the dining chairs but not Mo’s Paul said he mustn’t before he lead the two ladies to the sitting room, made them comfortable before Pinky appeared and quickly re joined Ish who looked dandy in black from top to bottom. It was warmer inside than outside Ish stated rubbing his hands together with a glee on his face. Anytime of the day Ishmael could be trusted with a laughable punch line. Paul knew him well. Pinky ambled pass, said hello to Ishmael on her way to her two friends.

Paul dropped a glass of juice in front of him and they shook hands for the second time. First was at the door. ‘You look good’ Ish offered gladly. ‘Glad to see you man’ He really meant it.

‘You too, Great to see you, Ish’ Paul said grinning. Then they talked about this and that, especially with his father’s passing. Then the discussion took a three sixty degree turn when they touched base with which street team was on peoples lips recently and why Paul’s team had lost two important games. Paul assured him the Dashhoppers will bounce back. He never asked Paul when he thinks he will be ready to join the team again. Then they talked about girls, parties, who is driving which car, and how stupid they were not to have bought low budget cars for starters. Paul thought about seeking his advice regarding the conversation he had with his mother at dinner. But one thing was for sure he still longed for Mo, and anything that has to do with him should be treated with dignity and respect, then he shelved the idea.

‘What brought you to this area?’

‘Moved a few things to a homeboys house just four blocks away’ Ishmael said ‘and it’s a perfect opportunity to see how you are doing’ Ishmael gulped his drink.

‘Thanks’. Paul was chuffed. ‘Are you moving out of town?’. Paul said worried ‘What about your shop?’ He asked.

‘No. I’m leaving town for a couple of days’ Paul sat at the edge of his seat when he said this. He asked where he was going. ‘Africa’ Ish said nodding his head proudly. Paul’s face was alarmed at that announcement. He asked why. ‘Just going for a couple of days’ Paul began to ease back uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I miss my folks’ Ishmael added.

‘I thought your family was here!’

‘Girlfriend. Not family’ Ish said and smirked his lips correcting him.

Paul’s chin rested on his right palm the whole side wedged on the dining table. He was intrigued by that revelation he thought he was married. ‘For how long?’ He questioned, still a bit puzzled.

‘Two to three months, not sure’

‘What! No. Too long man, are you sure about this?’ His chin shifted to the other hand in quest. He could not figure out leaving home for a week. Ishmael Ali cast him a very weak glance. He expected the opposite. He crossed his legs under the table and braced himself for a lecture.

‘Paul’ Ishmael started with a deep sigh. ‘It’s been six years. I am going on a holiday not forever.’

‘Aren’t you a citizen, make it home here Ish. It sounds funny but think about it man’ Paul sat upright like a true patriot.’ The team will miss you, I will, everybody will, your customers will.’

Ishmael started to giggle ‘Don’t you get homesick Paul?’. Paul shook his head. He lied he missed his father. ‘Ok. But I am. I’m a little tired of phone calls. I need to see that my family is in good shape, especially my mother, and then I will be back. ‘Paul just realized what a huge void his father left in his life. He gave up and wished him good luck. Ishmael rushed his drink and announced his exit.

The quest to know more about Africa started in earnest. Up till now the only handy information he had was gather from different sources. A minute percentage of that come from his parents and nothing encouraging for that matter, hence his lack of interest. Although he knew he was born there, he thought it unfortunate. To make it better he sought the popular media network and it got worse. He had wished he never had any kind of connection whatsoever with the information gathered. But ever since Ishmael visited there was renewed drive to dig deep into the dirt for gold. Gold meant anything that was praise worthy. Anything that could point to the fact that Ishmael made the right choice. Somalia didn’t seem good news. He had phoned him to wish him luck again, and to confirm when exactly he will be leaving, and just to satisfy all curiosity, where exactly in Africa he was headed. Ishmael Ali said Kenya and added that he’s got two weeks. Somalia, Kenya. What next? His thoughts focused on the pet project he had just awarded himself. He watched documentaries. The wars and insurgents stories discouraged him, but the wildlife intrigued him. Still he wanted more. Perhaps the rumour of wild life being domesticated could be true. He scrupled. He wished Ishmael’s entire family came over instead.

No matter the acquired opinion over the years, Pinky Momo kept ties with her family in South Africa. She knew little about their physical wellbeing except when something tragic occurred. Problem was that on the South Africa side of the family, Pinky mustn’t be bothered under any circumstances vice versa. It was a kind of mutual rule. But Abdul Momo’s death broke that mutual rule. There were phone calls and counter phone calls across the two continents. Then a new rule was set. Pinky must not be inundated with too many calls only if it was unbearably urgent. Moni Nkosi her elder sister set all the rules. Their Mother Mama Mkhize who is now in her late sixties sanctioned every rule that was agreed to. They are the only children she has and she has admired how they have become mothers too. And a call could last an hour or half whenever they do catch up and nothing is left out. And old topics were spiced up to sound very fresh. Paul was always on top of the list of gossip. He was the only male grandchild. Whenever his team won, or, lost. If there is any female stalking him or the reverse or generally about his wellbeing. Next are Moni’s two girls, and their conquest at school. Mama Mkhize usually gets the last lap of the phone call, and she always asked the same question during every phone call. ‘When will you come home?’. For the umpteenth time with strained voice Pinky had said she will let her know when she’d be ready.

Mama Mkhize has been to Canada on two holidays only and she had to because she wanted to see her child and her grandson face to face. Moni and her two daughters only once. The first for Ma Mkhize was for Paul’s tenth birthday and she stayed for a month. Good it was August the cold didn’t bite as they had expected. The other time was an Easter break. This time the weather had that bite. And it somehow stretched for two months with lots of bad blood between mother and daughter. Mama Mkhize wanted Pinky to come home for a short break which Pinky carefully evaded in a nice and kind way showing much respect to her mother in the process and made sure she found humor on the subject matter three years ago. In her forty three years she has spent only eighteen of that on home soil when she was still young, when everything was adverse, and when youths rebelled. Hence a plan was hatched after the burial but they had to be careful with the way it will be carried out. Her Mother was of the opinion that she needed to come home, recuperate get her bearing and return to Canada. Pinky didn’t see it that way although she needed that space in fact she was sure Paul needed it too. The pressure was on and the ship needed to be stirred in the right direction and she had to stand as the captain in Mo’s place. It wasn’t a time to go on a holiday really even though it seemed alluring.

During a recent telephone conversation it was generally clear that their mother had fallen ill. Symptom was worry and high blood. Pinky made her sick. Pinky was the cause of all that had befalling her so she said. Moni advised that she should consider coming home just for a while even a week or two, she was sure that will speed up Mama’s recovery although she took her medication. Pinky became nostalgic and burdened. It was a bad combination. It got so bad that she herself felt grim after a while. She was advised to take time off work by the company managers; she took three days to rest and figure out how to deal with her tough life. The resolve was to update Paul about developments back home. Not that it was of any vital importance to Paul, the reality was that he is the only male grandchild and he should be getting used to acting the part like the only man in the family. Talking to Paul would result to a reaction. Good or bad was the question she had no answers for at that moment. Paul knew very little about home and she was aware of that fact. He knew nothing good about Africa as a matter of fact besides his Grandmother and his mother’s sister and her daughters, no fault of his. She regretted not educating him about his background thoroughly and thought it was Mo’s job as the man in the house. Now she regrets over looking her duty as a mother of a young man in a far away land from home. She sympathized with many families abroad who were in similar position. On the other hand Paul wanted more on Africa. Ishmael had started something in him with a powerful momentum than envisaged. The question was, if Ishmael could go, why couldn’t he if the opportunity presented itself, it was a tussle of opinion but he just let the thought slip bye; he wasn’t ready for that kind of headache not at that time. Also he felt his mother will become fiendish should the topic ever show face. They did chat on the phone and Ishmael loved every moment in Kenya besides the heat. Whatever that meant? He pondered. Or could he be serious?

Reality struck one fair weathered Saturday afternoon while he walked Tiger around the neighborhood. Two colorfully garbed very dark skinned young men who portrayed themselves as immigrants; because they had heavy accent, spoke slow inconsistent English, accosted Paul and asked for direction around the block to their destination. They were going to see a brother so they said but were not sure if they were on the right street. Their outward appearance was somewhat pale. Their haircut was passable, complimented with bright teeth, handsome smiles and courtesy. Paul helped them while Tiger behaved like a well trained pet. When they crossed the street to the other side and moved on as the pedestrian traffic light went green, he couldn’t resist the inclination he felt to the continent they came from. He knew they came from Africa without doubt. He regretted not asking them where exactly is home for them, maybe it is Kenya like Ishmael, his mind went to Ishmael in a flash. As he paced along a sense of plurality engulfed him again like it always did whenever his conversation with Ishmael played back in his head, which he struggled with.

Mr. McBride headed Paul’s office. He had suggested giving him some time off since Mo died. Paul gladly declined he braved it like a young man. His work output remained the same but he preferred to be left alone for the larger part of his time at work. He kept quite at meetings, but did his work well. If he could, he would turn back the hand of the clock to a month or two ago. He wished for the energetic Paul Momo. So when his mother called the office and suggested to McBride to consider giving Paul a couple of days off he said certainly. Pinky requested for three weeks. McBride gave four. But before it became public knowledge Pinky had another very crucial hearty discussion with Paul over a mouthwatering dinner about his granny’s ill health and her own worries. He was moved. His whole face showed how terrified he felt on his seat. He didn’t want to lose her too, then bravado set in. ‘Can’t we go and visit them, you know . . . .’. Paul veered not sure of what was to come but he was concerned. Pinky’s chest released into a burst of joy, but her face was natural. She said it was a good idea and Paul relaxed and worked at his meal. And by the end of dinner that day mother and child came to a very fragile conclusion. It was the worse slowly said YES he’d ever uttered in his entire life. He went to bed terrified of the next couple of events. That night Pinky telephoned her elder sister and gave a blow by blow account of the dinner discussion with heavy sighs in between from both sides of the call because it was touchy. As a matter of fact Moni blamed her for not giving him good education about his background; she kept it quiet for too long, she had to get it off her chest. Pinky in turn blamed Mo, and with respect for her late husband the conversation took an about turn and moved over to the latest fashion.

The news that Paul was visiting South Africa came with sad anxiety and much expectation all mixed into one. It was sad that Pinky won’t make an appearance, good because granny’s boy was coming home and they were worried because he knew nothing really about his home and they had to educate him from scratch. Moni prepared for his arrival as she had only a week to do that. He will land by the coming week, and she had to spread the news far and wide. Everything coincided with her leave, which the whole Johannesburg Technikon staff was talking about. Moni seconded the Human Resources department of the school; who says you cannot become your dream.

She climbed up the ladder of success very gradually with lots of perseverance. She joined the institution as an ordinary secretary many years ago, furthered her studies through distant learning programs. Her dropping out of school at standard eight due to financial constraint and early pregnancy did not stop her dreams with her mother’s support. She had as a teenager helped her mother’s nursery school with little admin work, went on to study typing and Office Admin from a local school that later became a fly by night institution, sacrificed her teenage years for education, now she sits as the HR second in command after forty five years with a Masters in Human Resource management degree.

The flight arrival was scheduled for 11:15pm. And Moni Nkosi and her girls could not wait to see him face to face. The pictures they have of Paul were that of his 21st birthday. He looked much younger then. At five she left the HR office rode the lift to the ground floor and exited the building. Her small white car stood in the parking reserved for her. As she joined the traffic home all that occupied her mind was Pinky and Paul the question was why so long, mother and child why so long, why did it take Abdul’s death to make up for Paul’s visit. It appeared that if Mama Mkhize had not fallen ill no attempt would have been made for neither of them to come home. And it is not as if Canada is a place you can just rush to without the necessary red tape. And Abdul Momo’s death dealt a heavy blow to everything in fact as far as she could remember Abdul himself never visited home in Africa except a few visits to the United Kingdom on either business or to see the Princewills, until he passed away; she shook her head in painful reflection. It’s very complicated, she agreed all by herself. By the time the car made it out of the off ramp into Parktown, another idea surfaced. And the idea was according to Mama Mkhize who had carefully considered the status quo of her daughter’s situation and felt that it is the best option after careful consideration. They will try to convince Paul to stay for longer than his visa, perhaps in the process Pinky might be interested in coming to see how the whole family is doing. Tough call, she knew.

Her car slowed to a stop by her Parktown home and all she wanted was dinner and go for a nap at least before ten. Pumi her eldest daughter welcomed her. Pumi was very excited because finally her cousin was coming on a holiday something she’d dreamt of many times, and it coincided with her mum’s leave. Moni slouched into a couch nearby tired. Pumi dashed upstairs with her mother’s handbag, returned to serve her dinner right where she sat. ‘Where is Beauty’ Moni asked. Beauty is the younger of the two daughters.

‘She went to fetch Mama in Soweto’ Pumi replied.

‘But she is not so strong who instructed Beauty to go bring her. ‘Moni was worried. Pumi later explained that her granny had phoned earlier that she would like to go to the airport to welcome her grandson home. Moni shook her head in unbelief. She finished her meal and said she was going for a nap. ‘When mama arrives please give her something to eat’ She said and went upstairs to her bedroom to prepare for the evening.

At eight sharp Beauty arrived with her granny and it appeared it was drizzling outside because they were slightly wet, Beauty had an umbrella to cover both of them. Mama Mkhize as she is popularly called by her close friends, however, looked lean from ill health but she operated on an inner strength called joy; she had looked forward to that day. It would have been better if she just stayed at home; Beauty had battled with that thought as they rode in the taxi to Parktown. Pumi hurried down stairs to welcome her granny. She adores her granny ‘Where is your mother?’ Granny asked soon their eyes met. Pumi said she was resting in her room, and added that dinner was prepared for her. Mama Mkhize’s brows drew closer in a frown as she tried to make sense of what she just heard. She glanced at her wrist watch and thought it was late and that they should be ready for the Airport. Well, she gladly decline the dinner offer as she eased into a couch and explained that she would only be able to eat anything after seeing her grandson, then she told her to go tell her mum that she was there. Main while Beauty quietly eased into the kitchen to help herself with some food. And between the two sisters, Pumi resemble her mother more that is the reason why her granny likes picking on her occasionally. Pumi returned for more chitchat with her granny but slightly jealous that the coming grandson will take the grandstand for the duration of his holiday. She announced that her mother was on her way down then engaged the elderly woman in general light hearted talk.

Buhle arrived at 9:15. She was invited by Pumi to proudly accompany them to welcome Paul. They have been good friends from the University of Cape Town, but, Buhle was a year ahead of her. She studied IT while Pumi did Fine Art as a subject. It is Buhle who is trying to link her friend to a job because she worked in a placement agency. Another important guest was Sydney Moleta. Moni invited him specially because he had always been Pinky’s admirer since teenage years and he remains a close family friend. He wanted to see her child. Mama felt very proud and glad that he could join them. The motorcade to welcome Paul grew to only three. Buhle came in a new tiny white car which fitted her petit stature. Sydney rode an eighty-nine Mec, which was well looked after and Moni lead the procession. Plans to make Paul stay longer were fine tuned in Moni’s car, with the prospect that Pinky will be willing to come on a visit herself. Mama Mkhize peered through the window to her left dreamingly and watched a few cars fly by at break neck speed, thinking of an approach to what she has in mind, and then returned her gaze to her daughter who maintained a steady speed in the middle lane. She made sure the motorcade followed suit.

‘Do you remember David Mbatha the PRO of our storkvel’ Moni nodded intriguingly without taking her eyes off the road. ‘He is an Architect in the building department of the metropolis’ the woman continued. Moni never realized that fact. In fact she wondered where her mother was going with the topic she choose to share with her but suspected it had to do with Paul.’ I did talk to him and he is willing to assist us to get a job for Paul if he will be keen’ Moni subconsciously reduce the speed and took a deep breath. She did not want to put any kind of idea forward on the topic on hand. Cleverly, she advised that Paul should be left to make his own decisions; all they would do is give guardians. Mama Mkhize agreed. She produced a business card’, this is his card. Moni acknowledged it with a smile. She knew Pinky and her family were paramount in her mother’s mind. Silence took over again as Moni increased the speed slightly. In her mother’s opinion it is a shame in the African tradition for a child to travel very far away for so many years and totally forget his or her roots just as Pinky has done.

The woman broke the silence again and narrated to her daughter the story of a neighbor in Soweto who proudly told her that their grand child who studied overseas during exile had returned and he is doing well as a young lawyer, that he just bought a house in Midrand and talks of wedding are on the cards. Moni made no comment. It was a touchy subject because they just lost a family member and that is the reason why they are on their way to the airport in the first place.

Buhle was in the company of her friend and her sister. She stayed behind their Mother at a measured speed. ‘You mean Paul is coming home for the very first time?’ She asked like she knew him. Pumi from the passenger’s seat tried to explain to her friend why he was coming home for the first time by justifying the fact that at least he was born in South Africa before they went on exile. ‘So, how old is he now?’. Buhle inquired casually.

‘Twenty six’ Beauty answered from the back seat. She wanted to get involved in the conversation. Buhle thought it was a perfect age. But why so long before coming home she pondered. Then she started strategizing how she could be his first girl friend in her head even if he stayed for a week. Pumi did a nice job of downplaying the weight of the subject by stressing that there was really no love lost in spite of the distance.

‘We regularly talk over the phone’. She said proudly. By this time Beauty found the conversation boring so she wore head phones, and braced herself for a big surprise. The two in the front shed more light on the subject and hoped that he will enjoy his brief holiday.

Sydney Moleta just cruised along behind Buhle’s car with no worries at all, soft music played in the car. His only wish was to see Pinky but since it was her son coming, he looked forward to meeting the young man with great expectations.

They strolled into the airport with an hour and ten minutes to go, so they looked for a café and found Mug and Bean as they got off the elevator. They grab two tables. The young ones occupied one and Moni, Sydney, and her mother the other. Orders where placed but the granny settled for a glass of tap water. The foot traffic in the massive airport was still heavy at that time of the evening. The café was abuzz. Sydney chose to entertain the women he shared the table with, with his retirement plans from the Government to concentrate on his large grocery store in Dube, Soweto. Discussion went around how his family will cope with the idea. Then Moni became his only audience. Mama Mkhize watched whatever it was that was on TV. It was gymnastics. The evening took forever. Soon it got to 10:45 and every one of them left the café in the direction of the arrival hall. ‘I can’t wait to see him’. The granny whispered to Sydney who showed a proud smile.

Many years ago when he was about a year plus old baby, he was granny’s pride and joy. Sometimes he’d mumble words when he tried to speak, sometimes he’d be breathing heavily with clean saliva dropping all over him, though, he looked strong, she would think he was not feeling well and she’d rush him to the local clinic, only to be told that he’s very well. And sometimes he could crawl the entire floor of the house tirelessly in search of amusement, and sometime he’d cry when hungry, but, he was granny’s little boy. Once when Pinky went to Kimberly and Moni baby sat for her little sister, she played with him on the living room floor and little Paul was his energetic self giggling and in a playful mood, then she left him for a minute to attend to a knock on the door, which happened to be the Postmaster. When she returned to where she left him she found that he was gone from the play area. She searched the whole house in tears calling his name but she knew he was unable to respond at that stage, she went to the neighbors for help which made it worse because she was blamed for not carrying him with her to the door and cursed. Someone telephoned her mother from amongst the neighbours. On arrival at the house she collapsed at the news that little Paul had disappeared, and the commotion increased. While some party discussed going to the local police station, others tried to resuscitate Mama Mkhize, in that brouhaha, a young girl found the little baby sleeping peacefully under the completely covered dining table. His tiny feet was conspicuous enough from under the flowery table cloth that reached to the floor. Moni later laid him in his cot with teary eyes, Mama Mkhize opened her eyes in record time and dashed to the room to make sure it wasn’t a rumor that he was found, then everyone gladly left their premises in the same order that they came there. But the drama remained on everyone’s lips for many days afterwards. And Paul became a house hold name from that time. Pinky found it amusing when they later told her what drama Paul caused in their home. And as those memories raced through her mind in reverie, she wished him safe landing.

Buhle will only get a chance with Paul if she left her boyfriend. This was Pumi’s conclusion which took so many minutes of discussion to reach. She understood that he was coming on a short visit. Hopefully the connection might project beyond expectations Buhle wished. But that conclusion was also very hash because the bound between her and her present hobby dwindled and on top of that she was helping her with job search, so, a sweet deal was struck and Beauty refused to be part of that deal. Buhle promised to break up with her boyfriend if Paul was appealing enough, in a jovial manner. Within the next five minutes, that sweet deal was canceled when another guy called Dillion called Buhle’s phone that night, she excused herself to take the call. Pumi and her sister chuckled but deep down they took it very seriously. The deal was over. Buhle rejoined them after that call disappointed ‘He is a film producer’. She said. The sisters gawked at her insouciantly. ‘I was supposed to meet with him about some shoot he is working on for my office. I told his PA that I would not be able to see him today. He is phoning to find out when it will be appropriate for the meeting’ She explained. Still they gawked at her not trusting a word that she just said ‘Hey, guys come on grow up’ She yelled at them. And they all started giggling. They gave her the benefit of doubt. And the crowd around the arrival hall grew larger as the time drew closer.

LIKE A FIRST TIME

The plane jerked and tussled by gigantic frosty clouds thousands of feet up. But inside, half the passengers were asleep fatigued by the long flight. A hand full cared to watch a comedy on the in flight home theater system. The Co Pilot kindly announced on speakers that everyone should remain seated with seat belt fastened; soon the pilots found a smooth path and dropped the flight into cruise. They were on the second and final leg of the journey from Shipol International Airport in Amsterdam where they had a stop over to Johannesburg. Air stewards went about promoting duty free gifts. Another group of business men worked on their laptops in flight mode.

Paul could not sleep anymore the tussle woke him from a bad dream. It made no sense and it made him feel eerie. For one he was ready to face his worse fears, glad to be on the flight to spend some time with his mum’s family. He shut his eyes again to let his mind browse over issues. Family business came up, his eyelid tighten with worry. He tried to imagine that Mo was before him; first he asked him why so soon, Mo smiled but said nothing. Then he asked him what he thought about the issues around the family business, he could hear him say yes with interference from outside. The banging sound from the movie filtered through his head, but his father said something like yes. By the time he wanted to ask about the trip he was on, Mo vanished in his imagination.

‘Meat or vegetarian’ said a beautiful hostess. The drama in his head was abruptly interrupted. He said vegetarian from there he joined other passengers on the plane. The Nun who occupied the window sit next to him wanted nothing, and that was the second time she decline food served in that plane she busied with a journal. Strange Paul thought.

In the middle of their meal the map on the monitor indicated that they were on the Congo border. From here he began to practice his first speech, his first hello, and his first reaction to see any one that was there to fetch him from the airport. He had phone numbers if there was a delay but beneath his expectations he remembered Ishmael and made a silent prayer that every single thing should go well, and he should return in one piece.

Finally, the captain announced that everyone should fasten seat belts because they were about negotiating landing. The over head lights dimmed and gravity set in slowly. When the light came back on there were cheers and rumblings from all around, but Paul’s heart began to pound. The Nun made a sign of the cross. One of the business men made a quiet prayer, and then the plane slowed to a stop.

There was the usual welcome speech . . . . and hope you enjoy your stay farewell by the flight Captain before the traffic along the aisle went crazy. Paul grabbed his hand travel bag, he allowed the Nun to do the same ‘Enjoy your stay’ Paul offered the Nun with a hand shake which she warmed to gladly. She wished him the same.

‘Your first time here?’ The Nun asked him. She notices his Canadian accent.

‘No, But it feels like the first time’. He confessed.

‘Where are you from originally?’.

‘Canada. But I was born here years ago’.

‘Interesting! Well I hope you’d enjoy it’.

‘I hope so too, and am glad to be back to my roots. Thanks for being a great company’ The Nun giggled and said her goodbye.

The entrant into the Airport building told a very different story from whatever he was told in the past, but he held himself in preparation for more surprises. The building was state of the art. The euphoria within the Airport made him wish that he never knew what he knew now. He felt terribly guilty. He noticed different races and faces working together as officials and security men patrolled the floors. Very impressive, he told himself. He pictured his Aunty and her daughters in his head. They might have changed slightly either gained weight or lost weight. But he was very certain that he will be able to recognize them vividly. Who else might be out there to welcome him he wondered. He hopes they will be able to recognize him too. Around him people strolled happily toward the immigration control. Paul joined the non citizen queue. He waved at the Nun, who was on the citizen queue, and they exchanged smiles, then he spent a few seconds to make sure that he looked good before he reached the control desk. His crew neck shirt still looked ok. His denim looked fine. He tied his black jacket on his waist so it was alright. He felt a little better but strange at the same time. The temperature in Canada was minus two when he left. His six feet frame accentuated his masculinity, and the natural curls gave away his boyish look.

‘Hello sir’ The lady at the desk greeted kindly. She examined his passport. Paul looked on patiently to respond to any questions that may come up. He wanted to tell her that he was born there many years ago, with pride ‘How long are you staying, sir?’

‘A month and a half’ He replied. But he wished he could extend that period to two or three months. The lady played around on the keyboard, her gaze fixed to the monitor, scribbled something on his document handed it back to him and wished him a lovely holiday all within a minute. Paul finally entered