Chapter 15

Kanganwa—Forget

Priscilla had once been told that being a fool was part of life, but experience would help her become wise. During the last few months she’d had a lot of experience, but was she any wiser? She didn’t feel wise. She felt confused and lost.

Unashe had left without promising her anything. No marriage, no future, no love.

A month of misery had gone by, and she was determined to put him out of her mind. She did it in the most drastic way. She began to resent him, completely. Priscilla could get herself to do anything. Hating Unashe wasn’t that difficult.

* * *

It was a windy day in August, the day before Priscilla was going to meet Chamu’s family. She stood in the protective shelter of her bedroom and wiped the mirror with her damp hands. Standing naked, she gazed without expression at her reflection. Her mind was blank as she looked, and she refused to let any thoughts come into her head. Thinking had made her feel sick, and training her mind to be totally still had been essential.

With her pregnancy, her skin seemed to be glowing. It was as if a light had been switched on inside her and now blazed through her semi-translucent brown skin. When she had finished dressing, she heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Aunty Mukai.”

Priscilla ran to the door and flung it open. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

This was the first time she had seen her aunt since Unashe left. It was probably the longest time that they had not seen each other. Their recent phone conversations had been brief.

“Pri,” she said. She wore a lovely deep maroon embroidered African outfit, complete with the headscarf. She made a disapproving sound as she sat down and pursed her lips in further dissatisfaction.

“How are you?” Priscilla asked, smiling as hard as she could.

“I don’t know. You haven’t even bothered to come and see me. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

“I’ve been here,” she said feebly.

“Priscilla, I know you. I was very upset when you didn’t come to see Unashe off. I really don’t understand you. I thought you two were close. And all this lack of respect. I’m not supposed to be coming to your home, you should be visiting me. I am your aunt. I am older than you. More than that, I thought we were friends. I never expected such lack of respect from you. Not you, Priscilla.”

“I’m sorry, Aunty,” Priscilla said, wanting to be angry but feeling distressed instead.

“Come on, Priscilla.” Mukai leaned closer to her and then changed her attitude completely. “What’s wrong? Were you crying?”

“No.”

“Yes, you were. Tell me what is bothering you,” Mukai said, then looked at the flowers on the table by the window, a beautiful arrangement of red roses and white carnations.

“Have you got a boyfriend? Did he upset you?”

“No, Aunty.”

“Are you missing home?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I miss Mother the most. I always worry about her there at home. I’m okay here on my own.”

“And this guy who sends you flowers. Is he serious about you? You should tell me these things.”

Priscilla was always amazed. Her aunt could be angry one minute and comforting her the next. Her abruptness could be hurtful, but she should be used to her by now.

Priscilla smiled. “He’s a very nice person.”

“Where does he work?”

“In town. He’s self-employed.”

“That’s good. You can’t go out with a man who doesn’t work. Believe me, I’ve been there before. Tell me more. Does he want to marry you?”

“Yes,” Priscilla replied very quietly.

Mukai leaned even closer. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s perfect,” Priscilla said.

“You don’t sound too happy. Priscilla, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. You are just imagining things.”

“Well, I think I should meet this gentleman,” she said. “Will I meet him?”

“Yes,” Priscilla said and stood up. “Would you like a drink?”

“Thanks. That will be nice.”

Priscilla went to the kitchen, curious what her aunt was thinking about all the news that she had just given her. It was also a relief to be away from her and all the emotions that she evoked. She took the orange juice from the refrigerator and filled two glasses. Then she walked back to her lounge and handed Mukai the drink.

“So what’s he like?”

“He is a great person. You’ll see when you meet him,” Priscilla said. With her concerned expression, Mukai suddenly reminded her so much of Unashe it made her heart beat faster.

Dear God, she thought, this is my child’s grandmother.

“You’ll have to bring him to me. You know how these marriage things are. It’s complicated.”

“You mean the lobola stuff?” Priscilla asked, having witnessed her sister’s traditional marriage years before. It had been a serious affair with her father demanding more and more money from the groom. The future husband had his own group of people to negotiate the deal. It had seemed rather emotionless to her, and her sister had been angered by the whole event. What obviously made it worse was the fact that she was pregnant and Gilbert was charged “damages” as a result. It was quite a considerable amount of money to pay, and Gilbert’s family grumbled amongst themselves. Priscilla wondered if that was why both her sisters’ husbands treated them so badly.

“I suppose Baba will have to get the money, even if he is not my real father,” Priscilla said after taking a sip of her drink.

“It’ll have to be decided. It’s never that straightforward,” Mukai disclosed, pursing her lips to show the seriousness of the situation. “You’ll have to come and see me with this guy. What is his name, by the way?”

“Chamu. Chamunorwa Tengani,” she said.

“Tengani. I know that name. Is he the one who owns stores in Highfields?”

“I really don’t know,” Priscilla said. “Maybe. Some of his uncles also own businesses.”

Priscilla noticed the way Mukai studied her. Priscilla wondered if she smelled something fishy.

* * *

“Who will be there?” Priscilla asked Chamu as they drove through the sunny streets of Harare towards his parents’ home in Avondale.

“My brothers and sisters and maybe a few other people. My mother will be there, of course,” he said. Priscilla looked out of the car window, uneasy about what lay ahead. Not just that day, but also the rest of her life. She was going to meet the family of the man who she was going to marry. A wonderful man, but one she did not love but only respected. She had set traps in burnt grass and should no longer be afraid of her apron getting dirty. That’s what her father had said when Vimbai got pregnant. She had been naughty, and now she had to accept the reward. Besides, Oliver had also said that a hard bed could not kill, and she was going to accept her situation with dignity.

She looked at her hands on her lap, folded nervously over her blue outfit. She had bought the suit especially for this meeting. It was a pale blue two piece, which wouldn’t show the small bulging of her stomach. She appeared as flat as she did before, and sometimes wondered if she had imagined the doctor’s words.

“Are you worried about meeting my family?”

“Not really,” she said. “A little, maybe.”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. “We are almost there.”

They got to Avondale and were now driving in a rather secluded and peaceful area. The houses were high up on top of hills or hidden way down below so that she couldn’t really see them. The roads wound up and down like a roller coaster. As the car inched up the driveway, it seemed like they were climbing a mountain. It led right up to the front of the house. With a thudding heart, Priscilla realized they had arrived.

“This is it,” Chamu said, switching off the car engine and throwing a look Priscilla’s way.

The house was white and built in a Spanish style. The land sloped down in a steep incline to the main road. There were also some flowers, but there wasn’t much lawn. As she scanned the place, she caught a glimpse of a gated swimming pool. In the distance, she could hear a dog barking. While Priscilla sat in her seat with the safety belt still on, a chubby woman wearing an apron ran out to greet them, heavy breasts bouncing.

“Chamu,” the lady cried happily as she ran towards the car.

“That’s my aunt,” he said, getting out of the car. Priscilla got out, too. “Tete Thembie!” He turned to the cheerful woman and held her hands firmly. “This is Priscilla.”

Tete Tembie turned to Priscilla and looked at her from top to bottom, like an inspection at boarding school.

“Priscilla,” Tembie said, making her name sound like a song before shaking her hands firmly. She smelled of washing soap and spices. Before Priscilla could recover, a line of people came to meet them. She stared, fighting down panic.

“Those are my brothers and sisters,” Chamu said. He came over to her and put his arm around her.

“Is she scared?” Tete Thembie asked. Priscilla didn’t appreciate the way she was being discussed as if she wasn’t there.

She took a step forward and greeted the rest of the family. Chamu’s younger brother Sidney was a lighter brown and thinner version of his older brother. Gwen followed, an unsmiling woman, who seemed to take her position as the eldest daughter very seriously. Priscilla smiled as she shook her hand but did not get a smile in return. She shook hands with two other young boys. The whole family looked at her curiously, but later on when she thought about it and really analysed that first meeting, she realized that their glances were more than interest. There had been something a bit more disturbing in their eyes. It would be a long time before she understood what those intent stares meant.