Unraveled

By Russel Ngobeni

UNRAVELLED is the story of a woman who faced the worst abuse emotionally and physically, but used every setback to become wiser and stronger mentally.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Russel Ngobeni
• Release date: May 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780620764247

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

His motionless body lied there that Saturday afternoon. Saliva was trickling through the corner of his semi-opened mouth. His prospective wife ran out – she looked like a soul that wanted to jump out of the body. The entire congregation looked in awe. The pastor mumbled something and the people next to him closed their eyes. He prayed for Skhumbuzo. Then paramedics walked in after a few minutes like they were on standby and took him away. People who like gossip whispered and sent a rumour around that he had stroke. I was shocked. How can a man that was standing strong with his good looks just collapse before his own wedding vows. He looked very healthy to have hypertension which is usually associated with heart attack and stroke. Many people thought it was an act of witchcraft. Of course I thought so too. I mean in this part of the country most things are attributed to witchcraft. Even flu is associated to witchcraft, so you cannot blame anyone for suspecting. And if everyone believed in witchcraft, I was no exception.

My heart bled for him. He was a human being. He may have not been decent to me, but he deserved to be happy with his wife. The fact that he had made many women cry was in the past. Did I say women? Point of correction Goitsemang, he made many school girls cry. Even if it was in the past, I don’t think it was an appropriate time to display anger. He treated me badly. My heart had a million indelible scars that he caused, but I was all right now. If any woman was still holding any grudge, that woman was not me. I was over him o' right. He hurt me, but I taught myself that if I forgive those who wronged me, I was not doing it for them, but for myself.  Skhumbuzo and anything that came into my life to cause me pain was water under the bridge now. I allowed him to hurt me and would not blame him anymore. I forgave him to set myself free from the bondage of hate. There were those episodes of anger when I thought of him and what he did to me; but most of the time it was momentary. I was happy with the man I was engaged to now.

My prospective husband was an author and motivational speaker. Together we were now making a difference in society by moving around the country, giving inspirational talks and helping the needy. The initiative was funded by big brands in entertainment and food industries. My prospective husband was not a kind of man that some girls would take home to introduce to their mamas, but to me he was my world and my everything. That is why I had given up my job as an Accountant in one of the big organizations to be with him fulltime as he moved all around the world to make people feel worthy of who they are.

After witnessing the painful situation, we came back to our home at Rumsig in Gauteng. The in and out journey to Khudugane in Limpopo was painstaking, but when I heard of the news that Skhumbuzo was finally tying the knot, I could not resist the temptation to come and see the woman who had managed to steal his heart away when he was fifty eight years old. But I wished I had not bothered myself by going there. Look at what happened because I rocked in there uninvited probably. But I cannot blame myself for an act of nature. Can I?

My interest to know how Skhumbuzo was doing was so sharpened like a sword ready for war. I nosed around to get the news about how he was doing in hospital, though I did it without letting Amukelani aware. Men can be too jealous sometimes. Thanks God I am a woman. Facebook, Twitter and other social networks came in handy. Most of my social networking friends were from Khudugane, so getting the news about Skhumbuzo’s condition was a piece of cake. Most of these friends updated their statuses about the incident which was really great for me. A few days passed without the news of how the poor fellow was like in hospital. I could not bring myself to visiting him in hospital. What would his angelic wife-to-be think? I know that she did not know that I had a child with him; but if the cat came out of the bag now, it could ruin everything, especially because maybe he would not have had a stroke if I did not rock in there uninvited. Maybe I was giving myself too much credit

I waited for good news. The news that the stroke would not compromise his life and that he would be okay. But nothing came forth and this made me very worried. I was amazed that I cared so much.

Eish! I forgot to tell you how he came down like that. Though what I will tell you is speculatory, I can’t bring myself to the fact that I might be wrong. I have reason to believe that he had stroke after seeing my beauty. I know you will think I am blowing my own horn, but if I don’t, who will? Yes, I am a very beautiful black woman, who takes pride in her appearance. Besides having being told by loads of men how beautiful I am, the feeling that I am good looking is hard to ignore every time I look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing my traditional Sepedi dituku which matched the diamond earrings that Amukelani bought me for Mother’s day. Amukelani was my fiancé.

You know, weddings in rural villages are everybody's problem. You do not wait for an invite to attend and celebrate the union of two people who are going to declare how much they love each other in front of hundreds of people. But I know many people would wonder why I travelled all the way from Rumsig to Khudugane; just for the wedding I was not invited. I did not care; I was still a rural girl though my life had evolved extremely now. The news that Skhumbuzo was getting married was a miracle! This man was a mystery to me and I wanted to see for real if he had feelings and had the ability to tell someone how he felt. I wanted to see if he had the ability to love, even if it would be brief in front of the congregation.

My dreadlocks were tight by a gold string and formed a pony-tail. I was wearing high heels. And Amukelani never let me off his sight when I was wearing high heels. He used to say they complemented my shape and height and he was feeling like I was a mermaid that God made for him, so he didn’t want anyone to steal his mermaid. Amukelani was wearing a suit that matched my traditional clothing. He looked tall and strong. His cleanly shaven head reflected the faint light that illuminated the church. The cologne that he applied attracted me to him like a piece of iron jumping to a magnet.

As we walked into the church, it felt like we were the only people on earth. It felt like all the people sitting there and the couple in front of the priest were aliens. Heads rolled. People stole us with the corners of their eyes - the way they looked at us, it was like we did something wrong by rocking to the wedding uninvited. The sound of my high heel shoes echoed. I felt like a woman walking on a cloud that causes thunder. The feeling was good. I felt like just bursting with a good laugh. I felt good being me that Saturday afternoon. The bride turned around and looked. The way she looked at us, it could peel off paint from a wall. She looked intimidated. Her facial expression gave her away.  She only had to relax. Her Skhumbuzo would never match the standard of my Amukelani. We moved to the pew in the front. The sound of my steps echoed even more and the groom also turned around. Our eyes met for the first time after twenty six years. I regretted having shared my youthful days with him. He was a loser. An abuser. A user. And he had no future. Amukelani pulled me by the hand and as I turned to look at where I was walking, I had thud!!!! Skhumbuzo had fallen down. Everybody stood up and a handful rushed to the front to find out what was happening to the groom.

Of course Amukelani knew that Tumelo was Skhumbuzo’s son. Instead of feeling himself with amazement, Amukelani looked worried. While there was still pandemonium about what had just happened, he accused me for secretly loving my ex. I just laughed, Skhumbuzo did not even qualify the status of being an ex. I only brushed Amukelani’s hand and told him not to stress himself about a man who if wheels would be reversed, I would never even look at. I mean it, I would never love Skhumbuzo. He was not handsome in a way that as school girls, we perceived him to be. I think it was just infatuation that most teenagers have for matured men. Though I did not want to convince myself that at that time, I was in too deep with infatuation – now I believed that I was a victim of infatuation and inferiority complex.

Life was going on though Skhumbuzo was in hospital. But the community never stopped talking about the unfortunate event that left him in hospital; the Twitter posts of most of my friends carried the news. I felt bad. Why I felt like that it is still puzzling to me. Maybe it is because I have a heart of gold. Don’t you think?

And the reason why the community suspected witchcraft was because he fathered more than thirty children and he was not supporting any. He enjoyed living his life and working to impress the teenagers that he dated. You might even think that I am exaggerating; this man was hosting Miss High School out of his own pocket every year. He organised the prizes. He also offered a bursary for the winner to get free uniform, school fees and anything she wanted at school. The Principal suspected nothing, but every year, he would get accommodation for the winner and she would secretly become his girlfriend. What made me bitter was that despite the fact that they were teenagers, he wanted to be seen around with them. He was proud to be a part of their lives.  But he did not want people to know about our little