Chapter 14

The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit" - Proverbs 18:21

As a black person raised in a black community death is not just any normal thing, it is a big thing. When a person dies we don't only wear black externally, we also don black inside ourselves. We believe if you mistreat a person who's mourning God and ancestors will turn their backs on you. That's how I felt at that moment. KG had just lost his father and I was busy drilling his girlfriend's hole. Masego was also equally to blame, she behaved like a loose wet woman. What kind of woman sleeps around when her man needs her? Actually, she's the one who deserves to be punished. She literally seduced and invited my dick. I don't know about God, but I know my ancestors would understand. In fact, my male ancestors would commend me for chowing Masego. They didn't bless me with a huge dick for nothing. My dick is not a statue. All my male ancestors had a male-nawa. Apparently my great-great-great-grandfather had 12 wives and countless concubines. I looked at Masego who looked like she wanted to cry. I whispered "we messed up big time....very big time Masego. Maybe it would be better if I leave". She looked at me with puppy eyes and went "Rhu, I'm still wet. I want you". I have never been that shocked in my entire life. I have never in my life seen or experienced that kind of insensitivity. Her man had just lost a father and all she cared about was her wet pussy. Maybe the government should implement the NRA - Nawa Regulation Act to control abnormal nawasm. I told her there was no way on earth I was going to sleep with her. I said it in a way that made her feel dirty and bad. Aowa batho ba Modimo, I love sex but not to that extend. She practically begged me to continue fuck her but the good guy in me couldn't . Before I left she went "so aren't you gonna drop me in Mamelodi? Your friend asked you to mos...". I looked at her fine ass and asked "you mean my former friend and your newly ex? He'll be a fool to welcome you into his life after hearing you summarising his sexual prowess. Good luck and condolences to your in-laws".

As soon as I left I felt guilty for the pain KG was likely to go thru. I also felt guilty for Masego who was likely to lose a potential hubby. KG looked like that type that dated to marry. Honestly, I date for sex, fun and money. I am still to meet a girl that make me think of my uncle and cattle. Marriage is one institution that requires one to be emotionally, psychologically, financially and whatevercally ready. I always look at people who have been married for too long at malls, especially during month end, they are like a bodyguard and the master. I called KG to try to spin what had happened but his phone was off. I left him an 'I am sorry' voicemail. I hoped he did not follow his father. I wonder which pain is more hurtful, your girl being chowed by a friend or your old man dying. You do the maths. I decided to go to gym to vent the guilt out. Never underestimate the power of gym. I went for the treadmill because I knew it had the magic effect me. The girl on the treadmill next to mine looked very hot. Unfortunately she had her ear phones on. I hate it when girls use ear phones to avoid us. I got off my treadmill and neared her. Before I could open my mouth I noticed something. I tapped her on a shoulder. She ignored my first tap and I tapped her again. She took off her ear phones and loudly went "look here abuti, I'm here to work out, not for lousy boyfriends. Anyway, you are not even my type". Really, where did that came from? Was it really necessary? She spoke so loud that most people heard her. Some stupid niggers laughed. They were probably those guys who worshipped beautiful girls. I hit back "hold your horses little girl. I actually wanted to tell you that you have blood stains on your white leggings. Your pads or tampons are probably leaking. It's disgusting. And oh, you are right, I am definitely not your type. I am the target market of girls who don't use fake pads or tampons bought at Marabastad". I took my towel and headed to the change rooms. I could hear girls saying "ouch... ouch kwaaaaaaa kwaaaaaaa" behind me. I had to put her in her place. Some chicks think every guy who says hi wanna chow em agg.

Things we see in the gym change rooms are funny. Niggers with small dicks will be walking up and down like their small dicks were Timberland boots. There aint nothing fashionable about a small dicks hle. Other niggers be bending their asses like they had ice cream on their bums, especially these yellow bone boys. They love showing off their butts. Sometimes I believe the first gay guy was a yellow bone. I took my bag and left. I was not in a mood to see more small dicks and yellow butts. Luckily the girl with blood stains was not there anymore, I wanted to give her another piece of my mind. Some almost-fat girls who were working out next to her said "bye" when they saw me leaving. Knowing girls, they were probably beefing with Miss Blood Stains. To most girls, 'an enemy of my is my enemy'. The good thing about beefing girls is you can chow all of them in a short space of time. They'll think they are spiting one another kanti they are benefiting you lol. I headed straight to my place from the gym. Home is the only place where you can expect no drama. I parked my car and sat inside for over an hour. I was digesting the happenings of the whole day. I called KG but his phone was still off. He was probably one of those guys who didn't want to be called when mourning. Le yena he must try to be streetwise like KFC in future. Never send a dog to fetch your bag at your place if you know the bag contains bones inside, especially if you know the dog is not a vegetarian but vaginarian. Maureen called to tell she misses me. I almost said 'I miss your wallet'. I asked her about the car she promised and she went "well, if you stop flirting with kids like Ntombi I'll buy you a Beemer. And I don't like the way Ntombi's mother looked at you. That family is up to no good". I kinda found it cute when my sugar mama was jealous. The more jealous she got the more I milked money from her. I didn't like the violent side of her but enjoyed the money side. She told me FNB will send an sms in the morning. I smiled because I knew what that meant. After talking to Maureen I headed to my place.

Before I could even switch on the tv my phone rang again. If my phone was a shop it would definitely be Mr Price. It had more female customers than males. The person calling was the one and only Lerato. She went "Hi stranger, I thought you wouldn't pick up. Is it over between us or what?". Her question was of tricky nature and I wasn't going to be cornered by a girl. She obviously expected me to go all 'boyfriend' on her and make some apologetic speech. I went "was there ever us?". She went "What the fuck!!!!!!" and hung up. Lol I told her what she didn't expect but I knew she would run to my place whenever she is summoned. Sometimes bitches need tough love, you play Mr Nice Guy and they'll turn you into a softie zombie. After 9pm Mercy called to tell me she was at the gate and the security guards don't wanna let her in. She was like "can you believe it babe? We should report them to their bosses. They must be fired. Do they know who I am? I am future Mrs Chauke". I told her I was in Mpumalanga and didn't leave my keys. She went "don't worry babe, I have my own keys. I made a spare key for myself. I am your future wife after all". Shit, I was cornered. I called the guards and instructed them to let her in. As soon as she got in I was ready for her. I thought she would be angry I lied about being in Mpumalanga. She was her bubbly and crazy self. She said "I love it when you lie babe, it's romantic". I didn't waste time, I went "babe, I wanna meet any of your relatives in Pretoria. They must know me". Her face beamed with joy and she told me her aunt stayed in Nel Mapius and would be very happy to finally meet me because she heard so mush about me. She didn't even care it was late, that's how mentally disturbed she was. I wonder how my company got to hire her type. We immediately headed to the car. She was on and on about houses, kids, holidays etc. I didn't reply, I just went "eh, aowa, eh, aowa, I see.. really" and it was like I was pouring paraffin on fire. Within 25 minutes we got to Nel Mapius. She got off the car to go and knock at the door. The door opened and she got in. I used the opportunity to drive off. There was no way I was gonna let her sleep at my place and there was no way I was gonna meet her family. I immediately called my locksmith acquaintance and told him I need new locks. After that I called my dark great-aunt in Malamulele. Unlikely her phone was off. I wanted to ask her to 'make a plan to deal with Mercy'. I had to explore all options. I even thought of changing my number the following day. The worst thing was she knew where I worked. Ja you can be a player of note but there'll always be that psycho that make your life a living hell. Imagine if she had not aborted the baby. While I was still thinking about ways to deal with Mercy I received an sms. I read:

"Hope you are happy. She ......."

THE END

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LETTERS SECTION

Dear Sharon

Please assist me. I am 20 and dating a 62 year old man. He loves me and I love him. Age is nothing but a number. Many girls are dating boys their age but they are always stressed. My man is a widower and his kids are grown-ups minding their own business. I've been with him for over 2 years now and I've never been this happy in my whole life. He treats me like a princess and I have no regrets for giving him my virginity. I am planning to give him a baby after completing my diploma. How do I get people to mind their business and let me live my life the way I want? I am tired of being judged.

Thanx in advance,

Lebza, Soshanguve