Chapter 18

Hasha—Anger

“I don’t want to see that girl in my house again,” Oliver Pasipano shouted. Mukai breathed angrily but kept quiet. The visit was not going as planned. However, that’s what they all expected from Oliver. Oliver was still angry with Priscilla. In fact, he had been angry with her since she was born.

“Who wants to marry her, anyway?” Oliver looked around like a quizmaster at the three people sitting in his living room—Mukai, Monica and his mother’s brother, Farai. The whole purpose of the visit was to tell Oliver of Priscilla’s intended marriage to Chamu. Oliver blew up the moment he heard the words.

“The young man’s name is Chamu Tengani. He owns a lot of businesses,” Farai explained.

“I don’t care how much money he has. That girl has caused me nothing but trouble,” he ranted.

Mukai bit her tongue hard. She had many words to say about how much trouble Oliver caused, but kept quiet. He made her so mad she wanted to force feed him a thousand needles! Of all the people Mukai knew, no one made her as angry as Oliver did. He was living up to his reputation of being a tyrant.

Mukai looked at Monica. She sat there, her lovely smooth face closed and unchanging. She was difficult to read. Mukai admired what Monica wore, a lovely African print dress with the headscarf tied carelessly on her head. Mukai could smell delicious food from the kitchen. She was the homemaker Mukai knew she could never be. Mukai never cooked, but instead had her maid cook all the meals. She had too much else to do to bother with cooking, but still envied Monica’s skills. What was she now, almost fifty but didn’t look a day over thirty.

“So what should we tell the young couple?” Mukai turned her eyes to Oliver. She wanted to say something stronger but had counted to twenty before speaking. The elders knew what they were talking about when they said “If a monkey reigns, prostrate thyself before him.”

“I don’t care what you tell them,” Oliver said. ”I just don’t want them in this house.”

“That’s fine, then.” Mukai nodded, looking at Farai with a frown. What she really wanted to tell Oliver was that nobody liked being in his home anyway, but she had to bite her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. She had to focus on Priscilla and her marriage.

“Baba Hope, may I talk to you alone?” Monica asked Oliver calmly. Mukai and Farai looked at each other and then both stood up, mumbling something about going to the store.

Mukai wished she could be a fly on the wall and hear what Monica had to say to her stupid husband.

* * *

“Why don’t you want her to get married properly?”

“She has no respect. Running away from home and marrying the first man she finds,” Oliver complained.

“Let’s just do this and then forget about the whole Priscilla incident,” Monica said.

“You just want me to do everything your child wants. I have given in too much,” he shouted.

“No, Oliver. I want you to do what’s right,” Monica demanded, looking him in the eye.

“What’s right?” His voice got louder now.

“Yes. I don’t want to talk about how you have treated that child all these years, but enough is enough,” Monica said calmly but firmly.

“What! She has caused me nothing but trouble,” Oliver yelled.

“So you are going to deny her the right to get married? A man is willing to pay lobola for her and he is willing to love her and protect her without first getting her pregnant. Isn’t that better than everybody we know?”

“You don’t tell me what to do, woman.” Oliver stood up with a finger pointed at her head.

“I have watched you ruin our children’s lives for too long, Oliver,” Monica said quietly. “I won’t stand for it anymore.”

They looked at each other, Monica calmly sitting down. Oliver stood up, breathing heavily.

“What are you going to do, huh? You are nothing without me. You don’t work, and you are old now. What can you do to me?”

Monica swallowed deeply, letting his words sink in. This time his threats were not going to make her back down. No more!

“I have many options, Oliver. Many years ago, you kicked me out of my home as if I was an orphan. Right now, Oliver, I’m willing to leave this home of my own free will if you don’t stop your actions against Priscilla. I have been quiet for so long and watched you drive all my children out of their home. Vimbai is living in hell with that man. Hope is lost to us, and Priscilla might be, too, but no more, Oliver. I can’t watch you destroy Priscilla, too. My daughter will have her marriage without any problems.”

Monica watched her husband deflate like a balloon.

“I always knew you could not be trusted, woman,” Oliver said. Monica didn’t respond.

“Now you talk to me like a donkey because of Priscilla. I always knew she would come between us. She has always come between us.”

“She never did, Oliver. She has tried to please you all these years. I have watched her try, and each time she came to you with a plate full of love, you slapped her in the face.”

“When she was born you could never have any more children,” Oliver reminded her, his eyes big with conviction.

“I know you wanted a son, so did I, but that was not God’s plan for us,” Monica said.

“She…she—” Oliver said.

“Say it, Baba Hope. She’s your child,” Monica said.

He shook his head. “Baba, I am tired of having all these feelings hiding in us and we never say anything. What do you want to say? What do you really think?”

“Nothing, Monica. You will have what you want. You can have your daughter’s marriage. You win.”

“Oliver.” Monica reached for his hand. He moved away from her.

“There is nothing to talk about. I don’t want to talk about her anymore. You will have your way in this. I will accept that man’s money and her marriage and be done with it, but let me tell you something. I won’t be happy about it, and I will remember the way you were today because of Priscilla.”

* * *

Everything was set. Chamu was going to marry Priscilla. He had his team of escorts ready to go to the Pasipano home. He wore a dark suit, shirt and tie, and so did all the six men who would be part of his marriage team.

“Brother, you look sharp,” Sidney said to his older brother. He also wore a wonderful suit his brother had bought him. They stood next to each other and looked in the mirror. They were the same height, but Sidney was leaner. Chamu was stockier and stood more confidently.

“You need to start eating, Sidney,” Chamu said, giving his younger brother a shove. Sidney moved a few meters, laughing.

“The girls still like me,” Sidney said, fixing his jacket.

“Not girls like Priscilla,” Chamu said.

“There is only one Priscilla,” Sidney pointed out, fixing his tie.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late,” Chamu said, taking one last look in the mirror then walked into the living room where the rest of the men sat around watching soccer on TV.

“Come on, guys, get up. Its time to go,” he said, and they all stood up like soldiers in front of their commander.

“You look great,” Vincent, Chamu’s long-time friend, said. Everybody added his own flattery and Chamu grinned, soaking it all in.

“It’s an important day. I hope you all won’t embarrass me. I know I’m expected to be quiet so Vincent, you will do most of the talking and negotiating. You can’t just agree to whatever payment they ask for. Hustle a little. You know how it’s done.”

“I do, Mr. Tengani. I escorted my little brother to his marriage last year,” Vincent said.

“They cleaned you out, didn’t they?” Chamu said and grinned.

“Left the poor guy penniless. I had to help him out,” Vincent said, and all the men laughed, taking their cue from Chamu.

“Let’s go, men. I want this over and done with,” Chamu commanded and led the group of men in dark suits to the expensive cars parked outside in his driveway.