Rebabedi (1)
By Ayanda Xaba, South Africa
- Labour Law revision-x
- Submit bursary forms- done
- Buy groceries-x
- Block Tim-done
I’m going through my To-Do list as I throw myself on a couch. l would’ve appreciated if someone told me that university life is this hectic, I would’ve prepared sooner. You’d think that after 18 months of this life I’d be used to it. I am naturally a disorganised person so lists and notes around my room help to keep me sane – well to a certain extent.
- Speak to the lecturer about changing tutors-done
- Give back Mbali’s notes-x
- Send books back to library-x
- Look up ‘prince char ‘him’-x
And as usual I couldn’t get through half of the things I listed. The bursary application took most of my time and I was exhausted by the time I finished. Mbali will accuse me of purposefully spending a lot of time at the bursary office because I’m crushing on the assistant there – which is not true. Okay fine, I do have a crush on him but it’s not the reason I’m always there. They are forever sending you back and forth; if it’s not outstanding documents it’s wrong stamp, wrong ink, wrong detail. I was getting sick of it and I’m glad it’s finally over. The student assistant there is hot; Mbali can’t blame me for liking him. I wanted to find more information about him around campus today but never really got to it. My thoughts are disturbed by my cellphone ringing. I take it out of my backpack and smile – it’s Mbali.
“Babe,” I answer.
“And why is my research not with me? Do you want to get me fired?”
“No, I’m sorry I-”
“Let me guess, the bursary application took too long?”
I roll my eyes as I reply; “Yes”
She lets out a little laugh (more like speaking out the laughter ‘he he he’) and then says; “Why don’t you just tell what’s-his-name that you like him? My friend the way you like snobs!”
“Don’t start”
Mbali knows my love life isn’t a humurous story. Saying I’ve been unlucky in love is an understatement. Due to a bad break up with my first boyfriend I swore to date only one type of guys – which backfired horribly. It turned out I had turned to an object for white boys to curb their fantasies. I found out that Tim, my first white boyfriend, was telling his fellas to come to me if they want a taste of ‘chocolate booty’ (as he put it). I overheard him telling Damon who was busy trying his luck with me. At that time Tim and I had been in an on and off relationship for years, and due to my stupidity I’d been seeing other people in between. The same people I found out that were either referred to me or took a bet. Tim has been contacting me recently apologizing for his stupidity and telling me how much he misses me – I guess the ‘black experience’ with me was nice then. I blocked him today, I’m glad he ended up studying in Cape Town while I’m here at Tshwane University of Technology. I made sure to go to Soshanguve where I’d never bump into any of the snobs from the private school I went to.
Mbali sounds cheerful as she says; “Oh well at least he’s not white. Anyway, please bring my notes back tomorrow or my editor will fire me – if she doesn’t kill me first.” She pauses and then softly says; “I have a date.”
“Please don’t say it’s…”
“It’s S’bonelo, bye girl.” She hangs up.
I let out a deep breath as I place the phone on my lap and sit back. Mbali also has her fair share of romance drama, no wonder we make such good friends. Her football players will be her downfall because she cannot see how much they are playing her. I’m in no position to give relationship advice due to my lack of expertise in the field, and the fact that she is older than me. She is three years older and working as a journalist for a magazine. We met while she was doing her B-Tech in Journalism last year and I was a first year in Paralegal Studies. It was during registration when I was roaming around looking for the registration hall. I wouldn’t dare ask anyone; in a new environment I hide in my bubble and get scared to even open my mouth. Mbali is the only person who could make me ease up and communicate. Honestly; she is the only friend I have and I love her to bits. My cellphone rings and almost startles me, I never get used to the vibration especially if it’s on me. I take a deep breath before answering;
“Ma”
“But child, why don’t you come have supper with us?”
“Hi ma, I’m fine thanks. How are you?”
“Thabisile you’re so close yet you hardly visit, we miss you.”
I shake my head briefly, my mother though!
“We? It’s you and who that miss me ma because the girls are at boarding school?”
I can hear her heavy breathing as she responds; “Your father misses you too.”
“Come on ma, we both know that man doesn’t even know I exist.”
“That man pays for your bills Thabisile, he…”
I interrupt; “He sends money as he does when paying for his bills. Yes, to him I’m just another expense!”
“Your father loves you.”
I let out a deep breath again so I do not get emotional. “Look ma I have to study, I’ll come visit you sometime this week.”
“Please do, I’ll make your favourite meal. I love you sisi”
“I love you too mom.” She hangs up.
I really love my mother and I feel like she deserves a man as loving as she is. She is the most wonderful person on earth; always caring, forgiving, providing, loving, nurturing, and cheerful. She is a ball of joy that everyone loves having around. I’m the complete opposite of her. My mother is always the life of a gathering whereas I’m always in the corner somewhere shying away from everybody – just like my father. That man never talks to us unless we need to be disciplined or he is complaining about money. He only speaks to mom. At some point I had thought that maybe me and my sisters aren’t his children, that maybe he is a stepfather. I even wonder how my mother fell for him but I never dare to ask. Most of my feelings stay bottled inside just so I avoid confrontations.
I get off the couch and prepare to take a bath. Living at res had it’s pecks – like forever hot water. In my rented backroom I have to mind the electricity or else I’ll overspend my allowance. My father thinks I’m still at res but I only stayed there during my 1st year. I couldn’t deal with those loud and nosy girls that I shared the house with. Thanks to my good grades, I secured a fully funded bursary for the year which I hope to get again next year. It’s impossible to think of the bursary and not think about Kagiso at the same time. He has become the face of my bursary and I enjoy thinking about him. Even though I’m scared of being in a relationship now, I can’t help but wonder how things would turn out if I were to date Kagiso Motaung.
to be continued…
