TEN : Yolie’s demands

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As he drove away from his marital home, Gershom called Yolanda to remind her about their visit to the hospital.

On the other side, Yolanda frowned into the phone from her spot on the sofa, watching her favourite Indian serial drama. ‘You were really serious about that?’

‘I was. If you want to win the family over, the first person you need on your side is mom.’

Yolanda was doubtful. She had seen the hatred in the elderly woman’s eyes the day Theo had attacked her. Gershom assured her that once his mother learned there was a child on the way, her heart would soften. And once she was on their side, the rest of the family would have no choice but to follow.

Yolanda did not particularly care whether his family liked her or not, but since he was insisting, she decided to put in a little effort. She promised to be ready by the time he got home.

Before hanging up, Gershom asked her to prepare a traditional meal. His mother loved traditional food.

The request left Yolanda completely fazed. While girls her age had grown up watching their mothers cook and learning alongside them, Yolanda had instead perfected a very different set of skills. The most she could manage in a kitchen was a boiled egg.

She called Sofia the moment she hung up. Sofia arrived shortly after, carrying containers of traditional food she had picked up from Matebeto Market.

Problem solved.

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Meanwhile, once his call with Yolanda ended, Gershom returned to the office briefly, sorted out one or two things, then went to meet a couple of men in town. He presented to them the contents of the envelope he had left home with. One of the men read through it carefully, nodded to his companion when he was satisfied, and by the time the two men left, Gershom had a wide grin on his face.

He checked his bank account. The grin grew wider. Without wasting time, he made a transfer and credited his elder brother’s account with the full amount he owed him.

Sometime later, when his Honda CRV pulled through the gates of the large estate, he found the backyard buzzing with activity. He parked beside Yolanda’s blue Mitsubishi ASX and followed the noise.

‘Yolie?’

‘Babe, you are back.’

‘Yeah. Not much going on at the office. What is all this?’ He looked at the group of construction workers surveying the yard.

Yolanda walked over and welcomed him with a kiss, then called over the man who appeared to be in charge and introduced him as Mr. Donavan Chinga, a contractor.

‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Chomba. Your wife and I were just deciding on the best position for the pool.’

Gershom looked at Yolanda.

‘A pool? As in a swimming pool?’

‘Yes babe,’ she said, resting her head on his shoulder and gazing out at the yard dreamily. ‘I can already picture it. My baby shower will be the shower to end all baby showers.’

The contractor spread out some rough sketches and asked for their thoughts. An excited Yolanda picked her design immediately. Gershom said he would need more time.

When he heard the estimated cost, he felt his insides liquefy.

He turned to look at Yolanda. She was already looking at him with that particular glare. He knew it well. Under normal circumstances he would not risk provoking her, but these were not normal circumstances. He had narrowly escaped a serious financial setback. Taking on a project this size now would be foolishness.

‘Yolie, can I speak with you in private?’

‘What is wrong?’ she asked as they stepped inside. ‘And think carefully before you speak.’

‘Can we go to the bedroom?’

‘Here is fine,’ she said, taking a seat on the sofa and narrowing her eyes at him.

‘The pool. Is it really necessary right now?’

‘I am not the one who told you to buy a house without one.’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

‘Well, you are terrible at surprises. Next time, do not bother. If you had consulted me before buying this house, you would have known I wanted one with a pool and a Jacuzzi.’

The truth was, he had been building this house in secret for five years. It was meant to be a gift to Feggy on her thirty-third birthday. That was before Yolanda. Yolanda knew none of this. The day they found out she was pregnant, he had told her he would give her anything she wanted. She had casually mentioned a house where they could raise their child. Even knowing she was materialistic, he had not expected her to ask for something quite this large.

Since both women were unaware of the building project, he had quietly redirected it. He had designed it with Feggy in mind. A children’s play park occupied most of the backyard.

‘Yolie, we cannot afford the pool right now. When they call, just tell them we have changed our minds.’

‘I do not recall asking for your opinion. I do not care where you find the money but I am getting my pool. This is your fault to begin with.’

‘Yolie…’

‘This is not up for discussion. Tomorrow the contractor moves in and work begins.’ She looked at him steadily. ‘You know how I feel about naba muna ba kaso. If this is how things are going to be, it is better we end everything now. In case you have not noticed, there is a Dr. Wu surgery at the end of the street.’

Gershom stared at her, horrified. She looked back at him, perfectly calm and completely serious.

‘Yolie, you cannot make threats like that over a disagreement.’

‘I prefer we lay everything on the table. I want my baby to have the best. But if his father is going to turn into a miserly scrooge every time money comes up, I would rather not bring this child into the world.’

‘Our child will have the best of everything. All I am saying is that right now, the finances are not there for a project this size.’

‘Our baby arrives in seven months. The baby shower will be held at the pool. End of discussion. I do not care if you have to sell a kidney. I want my pool.’

‘Fine. Do not upset yourself. I will see how I can move things around.’

A smile spread across Yolanda’s face, making her look almost angelic. ‘Thanks babe.’

He turned to the bar and poured himself a strong drink. He downed the first glass, looked up at her as he poured the second. ‘You should start getting ready. Visiting hours will be soon.’

Before she could reply, an elderly woman in a maid’s uniform walked in. ‘Ma’am, I am done in the kitchen. If the shopping list is ready, I will go now.’

Gershom looked at the woman with furrowed brows. ‘We have guests?’

Yolanda glanced between the woman and Gershom, amused. ‘She is the new housekeeper, Jane. Jane, this is my husband, your boss. Call the rest of the staff, I will introduce them.’

The woman greeted him politely and left.

Gershom scratched the back of his head. The rest of the staff?

A minute later, four more people in matching uniforms walked in. Yolanda introduced them one by one: the chef, the gardener, the laundry woman, and the nanny. She dismissed them all, then reached for an envelope on the table and held it out to him.

‘And this?’

‘The contract from the maid agency. I have already signed it and made the down payment. Salaries are due on the first of each month. By the way, pay me back what I spent.’

Gershom skimmed through the contract, closed it, and looked up at her. ‘Yolie, I am sorry, but they have to go. We do not need all of these people. If you wanted help around the house, you can keep one.’

‘I need the gardener for the yard. I hope you do not expect me to be out there myself.’ She raised her hands and waved her well-manicured fingers at him. ‘Do these look like hands that do laundry and housework? Gershom, do not mistake me for one of those women who slave away doing chores all day. If you want to keep looking like a decent man, eat decent meals, and live in a habitable house, we will not have this conversation again. I am still a student. I do not have time for mediocre housework.’

‘If you managed your time properly like other women, there would be no need for all of this.’

‘I am not other women.’ She paused. ‘By the way, how did it go with the old hag? Did she agree to sign the papers?’

Gershom’s mood darkened. He shook his head, twirled the contents of his glass, then downed it. ‘She will sign them. I made myself clear.’

‘She had better sign them soon. I will not give birth to a child out of wedlock. And I will not lie around waiting for you to free yourself from that woman’s clutches.’

He poured himself a third glass as she walked away to get dressed.

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Later, dressed in an elegant long maxi dress that covered most of the curves she was accustomed to showing, Yolanda walked through the hospital doors beside Gershom. She carried a basket with food warmers, fruit, and drinks. She looked, to anyone who did not know better, like a devoted wife.

Two floors up, Kangwa sat browsing her phone while Theo unpacked what she had brought. The three women chatted easily until Kangwa’s phone rang. She stared at the screen.

‘Who is it?’ Mrs. Irene Chomba asked, looking up from her hymnbook.

‘It is your son.’

Mrs. Chomba gave her a look, then chuckled softly. ‘By the expression on your face, it is clearly not the twins. Answer him. What does he want?’

‘I do not want to, Ma. He has not visited once since you were admitted.

‘I know, child. But I think it is guilt keeping him away. Answer him and be polite. He is your elder brother.’

As Kangwa stepped away reluctantly to take the call, Mrs. Chomba turned to Theo and asked how Feggy was really doing. Even though Feggy spent most of her time at the hospital, she always changed the subject whenever the marriage came up.

Theo said she was okay, even though she knew that was far from the truth. Joseph had told her earlier that Gershom had secretly visited his mother and left Feggy in tears.

‘What did he say?’ Mrs. Chomba asked as a visibly furious Kangwa returned.

‘He is on his way.’

‘Good. The two of you will behave yourselves when he arrives.’

‘I cannot promise that, Ma. To avoid causing problems, I will just step outside. Let me know when he has gone,’ Theo said honestly.

Mrs. Chomba nodded. She could not force her to sit and be cordial to the man who had hurt her sister.

‘I will go with Theo, Ma.’

‘You will not move. I know you are angry with him. So am I. But he is your brother and you will have to face him at some point. No better time than now.’

Kangwa muttered under her breath, picked up some fruit and a knife, and went to wash them at the sink. She had just finished peeling an apple and was about to slice it when the ward door opened.

Gershom walked in with Yolanda beside him.

To anyone who did not know, Yolanda looked like a dutiful wife, carrying the food basket, her face calm and innocent.

‘Ma.’

Mrs. Chomba looked up from her book at the sound of her son’s voice. A smile crossed her face. Then she saw who was standing beside him.

The smile froze.

Kangwa looked up and went very still.

‘Ma, I am sorry I could not come sooner,’ Gershom continued.

‘Gershom, what is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this woman here?’

Gershom smiled at Yolanda and placed a hand around her waist, drawing her closer. ‘Ma, I did not make proper introductions last time. This is Yolanda, your future daughter-in-law. Yolanda, this is my mother.’

Mrs. Irene’s lips thinned. Her eyes narrowed slowly at her son.

‘Ba pongoshi.’ Yolanda stepped forward, apparently unaware of the storm gathering around her. ‘How are you feeling? I want to apologise for my role in what happened to you.’

‘If you were truly sorry, you would not be here at all. You would not be anywhere near my son.’

‘I understand, Mother. But I love your son very much. He means everything to me. It would mean the world if you could find it in your heart to accept me and my child as part of this family.’

Mrs. Irene turned her head sharply to her son. Shock, hurt, and disappointment filled her eyes all at once.

Kangwa said nothing. She watched, her blood simmering quietly with every word out of Yolanda’s mouth.

‘Ma,’ Gershom said, a proud look on his face. ‘She is going to give you a grandchild. She is almost two months along.’

‘Are you even sure it is yours?’ Kangwa asked. ‘I never thought I would see the day one of my own brothers got himself ensnared by a woman like this.’

‘Mind your language, Kangwa. She is going to be my wife. I expect you to respect her.’

‘Our family does not welcome women like her.’

Gershom glared at her, then turned back to his mother. ‘Ma, Yolanda prepared all your favourite traditional dishes. She wanted to do something kind for you.’

He took the basket from Yolanda and set it on the side table. Mrs. Irene opened it and lifted the warmers one by one.

‘Mother, let me help you with that,’ Yolanda said, moving closer.

Kangwa watched in silence as Gershom grinned hopefully at the apparent thaw.

Inside the warmers were bowls of nshima with katapa with groundnut sauce, dry fish, and boiled okra.

The food looked vibrant and smelled delicious, making everyone’s mouth water. But knowing who had cooked it, Mrs. Chomba simply scoffed.

‘Did you cook all of this yourself?’

‘Yes, ba pongoshi.’

‘She was worried about you, Ma. She made sure not to use too much oil or salt.’

‘It is my token of apology, ba pongoshi,’ Yolanda added warmly.

‘Is that so?’ Mrs. Irene said quietly. She lifted the bowl of okra and turned it slowly in her hands, examining it. ‘It looks delicious.’

‘You should try it, ba pongoshi. I hope it is to your liking.’

‘I will,’ she said.

Kangwa was just opening her mouth to protest when Mrs. Irene, smile still in place, hurled the bowl of slimy okra directly into Yolanda’s face.

The ward went silent for half a second.

Then Yolanda shrieked.

The sound pulled the attention of every visitor, patient, and caregiver in the vicinity. They looked on, riveted. Before Yolanda could recover, the katapa followed.

Gershom stood with his mouth open. Kangwa’s eyes went wide, a bubble of laughter rising dangerously inside her that she fought to contain.

‘Get out,’ Mrs. Irene said. Her voice was low and left no room for argument. Her eyes were cold and hard. ‘Do not ever show your face to me again. Do not ever call me your mother.’

‘Ma!’ Gershom looked at her helplessly.

Mrs. Irene turned the full weight of her gaze on her son. ‘If the nine months I carried you and the twelve hours I laboured mean anything to you, if the years I spent raising you meant anything at all, you will take this woman out of my sight.’

‘Mum, you are being too muc…’

She grabbed the basket and hurled it at him with everything she had. Most of the contents landed on the bed. The basket itself would have caught him in the chest if his reflexes had not saved him. She pointed a trembling finger at the door.

‘Fuma! Ndetila ati, fuma apa!’

Gershom went to Yolanda but she shoved him off and stormed out. He watched her go.

‘What do you take me for? Do you think this family is something to make a joke of? How dare you bring that woman here. Where do you find the audacity to think I would welcome her? Where did I go wrong with you, Gershom?’

‘Mum, please. She is pregnant.’

‘If you insist on keeping that woman by your side, then forget that I was ever your mother.’

‘Ma, don’t be like this. I do not love Feggy anymore.’

‘Is that your final decision?’

He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and looked at the floor. ‘Get well soon. I will come see you at home once you are discharged.’ He moved towards the door. ‘Let me go and check on Yolanda.’

‘Gershom. Come back here. Gershom!’

But he had already walked out.

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© Ponda

VOCAB

Ine naba muna ba kaso— me and stingy men; men who are tight with money

Nshima– maize pap

Katapa — a relish made from pounded cassava leaves, typically cooked with groundnut powder

Okra— a green vegetable that produces a naturally slimy texture when cooked, widely eaten across Zambia

Fuma — get out

Ndetila ati fuma apa — I said get out of here

Dr. Wu surgery — a reference to back-street clinics known for performing illegal terminations; used here as a threat

Matebeto Market — a well-known local market in Lusaka whrer they sell all sorts of cooked traditional foods

Bapongoshi – mother in law