Chapter 3

“Haibo, sisi, shesha! (Hurry up)” the Zulu taxi driver shouted at me as I struggled to get a hold of my suitcase so that I can get off the taxi. The other passengers watched on as I was the victim of the infamous Zulu driver verbal attacks about taking my own time to get off the taxi and how he had to get to Marabastad quickly. 

I was barely fazed though because I was used to the behaviour of taxi drivers and I barely flinched whenever they yelled for any reason, “ugha mahn, phumakimi! (ugh man, just leave me alone)” I responded as I was finally able to throw my backpack over my shoulder and pulled my suitcase from beneath the seats. 

I closed the door as the taxi driver was still shouting at me but made sure not to bang it closed or else he would literally kill me. One thing you should know about taxi drivers is to never ever slam the doors of the minibus taxi closed or try to rob them of their taxi fare: I promise you, you’re playing with your life if you do those two. 

I was finally able to hear my thoughts as he roughly pulled away and the sound of loud maskandi playing from his taxi got softer and softer with the distance. 

I massaged my neck a bit before I began to pull my suitcase behind me, starting the walk towards the big estate gates that led into my Jabulani’s gated community.  East Morgrange was one of the high class estates in Johannesburg where young professionals with good careers resided. The homes were big and beautiful, modern and shiny, and the place was so quiet, you could almost hear a pin drop. The gardens in front of each home was lush green and well attended, at times they wouldn’t even park their cars inside their garages and simply flaunt their latest luxury cars in their driveways. It was the kind of life I hoped that I would be able to live someday. I reached the guarded gates and the two security guards approached me, leisurely. 

"Hello, ma’am, you are here to see who?" The oldest from the pair asked me. He had a thick Zulu accent that I could pick up from anywhere and broken English. 

"San’bonani (Greetings). I’m here to see my brother, Jabulani Mabuya. His house number is 12," I said to them and they nodded before they pressed buttons on their walkie talkies and I heard my brother's voice come through. 

"Hello," I heard my brother’s voice pierce through the static phone.

"Sawubona (Greetings) Jabulani. Sime noSis’ wakho- (We’re standing with your sister-)” he paused raising his eyebrow to ask for my name. 

"Nyeleti." 

"Nyeleti-" he continued but was interrupted by Jabulani who clicked his tongue at my name.

"Nyeleti? Wenzan' lana (What is she doing here) ? Yerr (goodness), send her through, Thomas." 

"Okay," Thomas hung up the phone and the other guard pressed a remote and the big gates opened, "your brother said you can come in," he informed me as though I hadn’t heard the entire conversation but I smiled at the man politely and started the long walk up the hill to all the beautiful houses. By the time I reached my brother's house, I was breathing heavily and my armpits were sweating profusely. 

I saw my brother standing by the big front door of his home as he looked at me with a disapproving look. He was completely shirtless and only wearing a pair of shorts which indicated that I had really caught him by surprise because if there was one thing that Jabulani liked to do was to dress to impress. If there was ever company he loved to dress as though he were meeting the president. 

"Leti," my brother began as he walked towards me, "what are you doing here?" 

"I..." I took a long breath, "I wanted to come visit you for the holidays," I explained to him as I wiped the sweat on my forehead but he shook his head, clicking his tongue at me in irritation. I was definitely the irritating younger sister and I drove Jabulani crazy because personal space did not exist in my vocabulary. I practically followed him wherever he went, even though the home he bought for the family was big enough for me to have my own space, I still preferred Jabulani’s much fancier house. And it’s also not like there isn’t enough space in his home, there is plenty of it and we could basically be living under the same roof but never see each other. 

"But why? Why are you here?" He practically whined and I laughed, shaking my head at his antics like he was a five year old boy and walked into his house. 

"What? You don't want me here? I'm your own sister, Jabulani, your flesh and blood. You wouldn’t be acting like this if I was some girl off the streets, I can guarantee that," I rolled my eyes as I shoved him to the side and entered his house like it was my own.

I looked around the beautiful home, impressed with ever square metre of it, "I'm thirsty," I said to him as I started to walk to his kitchen. When I entered the kitchen, I went straight to the fridge. I chose to not say anything to him just yet, I would wait for him to ask me again and I’ll answer honestly. 

He sighed and then leaned against the table tops, "how's school? Is something wrong?" He asked me and I shook my head. 

"Can't I just visit you? Besides, you always have Msizi coming over and not me, and I'm your favourite," I flashed a wide smile and I heard him scoff. 

"Favourite? You're full of yourself," he laughed and I joined in, "but seriously...is anything wrong?" He asked me and he looked down at his phone which started to vibrate. 

I sighed and wiped my hand over my face before I looked at him again, scratching my curly hair and then biting the inside of my cheek, "I'm tired of school, Jabu...I just...I don't feel it anymore." 

"Why? Is it fees? I'll pay." 

I shook my head, "no, it's not that. Jabu, I don't have the same passion I did when I started studying. You know, I romanticised nursing so much. Jabu, do you know what I had to go through the past three months? I’ve had to change people's diapers... grown people's diapers...and I can't. Imagine, seeing a bullet wound, or someone giving birth? I can't do it, not anymore," I shook my head and clicked my tongue, "I feel like I'm going nowhere. Like I'm becoming a nobody," I admitted as I leaned against the fridge. 

"So what are you going to do now?" He asked me, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms.

"I don't know," I said to him, "just...I can't tell uMama noBaba (mum and dad). I need a job, Jabu." 

He began to massage his neck and then he nodded slowly, "ok...you can use your skills of make-up," he suggested and I shook my head, "maybe get a job at some make up shop or something. You've got to start somewhere." 

"No." 

He scratched his bicep before he looked me up and down, "fine..." He groaned, "here's some money," he handed me a couple of hundred Rand notes, "go get your hair done. I've got something in mind for you. When you're done with your hair, come back here, shower and wear...leopard print- no, no, wear a decent dress. I don't want you looking like a prostitute." 

I rolled my eyes, "yeah, ok," I said with attitude as I took the money and folded it in my hands, "what kind of job is it?" 

"A waitressing job." 

~~~

I was done three hours ago, sitting and waiting in my brother's sitting room and watching Netflix. He's living large, Netflix? I’ve only heard of it from social media. 

I saw the headlights of his car before I heard him hoot the bell of the carand I reached for the remote, switching off the TV as I sat up, adjusting the dress and fixing it. Knowing Jabu, if he didn't like it he would make me change. 

I also looked at myself in the front camera, checking my make up to make sure it was all looking fine and smoothed my hand through my weave to make sure it was still looking good. 

I cleared my throat and went to the door, opening it and closing it behind me as I walked to his Mercedes where his headlights were so bright during this early beginning of night. 

I walked to the passenger door and opened it, swiftly getting into the all too familiar car I've been in a million times. 

"So, is this fine?" I asked him as I gestured towards my outfit and all he did was groan even more and reverse, "so where am I waitressing?" I asked him, curious as I played around with the radio and decided to search through his CD's. 

"My restaurant," he said simply like he didn't just tell me something I didn't know. 

"Your restaurant?" I laughed, "since when?" 

"Since long." 

"What? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell us?" I asked him. 

"Because it's my business," he snapped, "and it's not like you haven't been benefiting from it. So, stop with the attitude." 

I rolled my eyes, "what attitude? Jabu, I'm not in the mood for this side of you. I came here to relax and clear my mind and you're not helping." 

"Wow, keep talking like that and we'll see who's-" before he could carry on, I pushed in the Lady Zamar CD and heard the song Collide come on immediately. The speakers were already loud so it cut him off. 

I knew that pissed him off but I wasn't going to argue with him. Knowing Jabu, he'll stop the car right here and tell me to get off. 

The car sped through the highway, taking off ramps till I found us at the heart of Jozi. 

Jozi, the city of gold.

This city brought so much joy and excitement to so many people, including myself. This is where the best malls where, the best restaurants, the best butchers and the best clubs. Jo’burg was where we aspired to live and work. Jo’burg was where we all wanted to be. 

I looked out at the busy streets, smiling at the sight of many cars and fast food restaurants, the sight of office buildings, well-known name companies, and the street lights unlike any other. We passed Chinatown and I looked at the big mall until it got very small and I couldn't see it and all of a sudden the car was slowing down. I looked around before I set my eyes on the sight of a restaurant. 

"Wh..." I looked at the name, L'Italia viene a Jozi, "what does that mean?" I asked Jabu but he didn't answer me, instead he just unlocked the doors and mumbled "get out".

I didn't hesitate and got out of the car, closing the door behind me as I wrapped my arms around myself and he walked around the car to me. He placed his hand on my back and he pushed me to walk faster in my heels. I bit my tongue because I didn’t want to upset him any further until he finally said something, "it means Italy comes to Jozi."