BROKEN PROMISES CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3
Ntombi woke up from a nightmare in
the middle of the night. In the dream
she was wearing a long pink dress
with lots of frills and her friend
Asanda was putting a tiara with
plastic flowers in her hair. They were
in the changing rooms at the church
hall where the auditions were going
to be for the Teen Voice
competition. First Ntombi thought
she had won the competition and
she was really excited. She was
ready to walk out on the stage in
front of hundreds of people and be


given flowers and a recording
contract. Pink wasn’t really her
colour, but who cared, when she was
about to become a pop star? But
when she walked out into the hall
there were no screaming teenage
fans and no sign of a microphone. In
fact the hall was full of men and
women dressed in suits and formal
dresses. And there at the back, next
to the door was her mother. She was
also dressed in a huge pink dress,
with more frills and lace than
Ntombi’s. For a second Ntombi
thought that this might be her own
wedding, and that at any minute the
handsomest, coolest guy was going
to appear, walk towards her and
announce that he was her fiancé.
But then Zakes walked in, and
Ntombi realised that this was no
fairytale wedding and she definitely
wasn’t the princess. She was a
bridesmaid at her mother’s wedding
to Zakes. The dream had just turned
into a terrible nightmare.
Her mother was smiling and kissing
Zakes. He was smiling that fake
smile. Before she knew it her mother
was calling her to the bridal
procession. Her sister appeared in
an identical pink dress. The whole
thing made Ntombi feel sick.
“What’s wrong, Ntombi?” Suddenly
her mother had the face of a witch.
“Can’t you be happy for us?”
“Just wait.” Zakes gripped her arm
and led her away so her mother
couldn’t hear what he was about to
say. His breath was warm and stank
of beer as he lowered his
voice.“There’s no escaping from me
now,” he said. “You will do exactly
as I say or there will be trouble. I am
the boss in your house.” He let her
go and she rubbed her arm; his fat
fingers had left marks on her skin.
She watched as her mother took
Zakes’ arm and walked up the aisle
and up the stairs to the stage where
a priest was waiting to marry them.
Ntombi had to do something to stop
them – nobody else was. She tried
to run but her feet were glued to the
ground. She opened her mouth to
scream but no words came out.
Zakes took the ring and was about to
slip it on her mother’s finger.
* * *
She must have made a noise when
she woke up because her mother
was standing next to her bed.
“What’s the matter, baby girl?” she
said. “Did you have a bad dream?”
She wasn’t a witch. She was the
loving, kind mother Ntombi had
known before Zakes came along.
All Ntombi could say was, “You
came back.”
“Of course I came back. And I want
to thank you for cooking supper and
looking after your sister last night. I
had a really good time with Zakes.
You know things are going very well
with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if…”
“No,” Ntombi said quickly. So it was
true he was going to ask her to
marry him.
“I was going to say, I wouldn’t be
surprised if he asks me to his end-
of-year work party.”
“At the car dealership?” Ntombi
asked warily. She was sure there
was no car dealership. Or else that it
was a front for something else that
Zakes was up to. Something illegal
and dangerous. She had heard talk
in their neighbourhood that he was
in some shady business. Whenever
his cell rang when she was around,
he switched it off without answering
it. Once he hadn’t seen her come up
behind him while he was talking, and
he had shouted at her.
“Never do that again, sneaking up on
me like that when I’m on my cell.”
But her mother wouldn’t listen to the
rumours. She said that people just
wanted to bad-mouth him because
he was successful.
“Zakes says it’s going to be the
whole national team of sales reps at
some smart hotel. I can’t wait.” Her
mother sounded so proud of him.
Ntombi’s heart sank. Nothing had
changed.
“Thanks for the tea,” was all she
said.
“It’s a pleasure.” Her mother
hesitated. Ntombi waited. She knew
what was coming.
“Zakes has invited me out tonight…”
“But Mama, you went out last night,
and the night before.”
“I know. But he wants me to meet a
friend of his, who could get me a
job.”
“You have a job.”
“A better one. Please, Ntombi. I
promise I’ll do something nice with
you on Saturday. I promise.” Ntombi
looked at her mother: she sounded
like a teenager herself, pleading like
this to go out with her boyfriend.
And making promises she couldn’t
keep.
* * *
As Ntombi watched her mother leave
for work that morning she was more
worried than ever. What if she gave
up her job at the school for some
false promise by some sleazy friend
of Zakes and burned all her bridges?
What if she landed up without any
job? How would they survive? No,
she had to find a way to make her
mother see the truth about Zakes.
But she would need help. This was
something she couldn’t do on her
own.
“Hurry up Zinzi. We’ll be late for the
taxi,” Ntombi called to her sister who
was pulling her short hair back into
a little ponytail.
“I’m coming…”
They had to run down the sandy
track between the prefab RDP
houses, around the corner, past the
spaza shop and across the open
stretch of ground (where the council
had put one swing, that was now
broken) to the taxi rank on the other
side.
Mrs Thembeka who sold veggies
near the taxi rank, greeted Ntombi.
“You girls are going to get fit the
way you have to run for your taxi
every morning,” she laughed. “Wait
till the Olympics come to South
Africa. You’ll be ready.”
Ntombi was out of breath as she
pushed Zinzi onto the taxi in front of
her. She gave the gaadjie her coins
and sat down.
There was a whistle from the back
seat. Ntombi usually avoided the
older schoolboys who sat in a row at
the back. They were eighteen and
had a reputation as the ‘bad boys’ of
Harmony High’s matric year. But this
morning she made the mistake of
turning around. She couldn’t tell who
had whistled, but the boy in the
middle of the back row winked at
her. He then gave her such a smile
that she couldn’t help but smile in
return, before turning away quickly to
look out the front window. She felt
like everyone in the taxi was staring
at her and she wanted to shrink
under the seats. He was so good-
looking and so cute – that smile was
hard to resist. At school she had
seen him at break time hanging out
with his friends down at the sports
shed. His name was Mzi. Asanda’s
older sister Tilly had gone out with
his older brother Themba, when she
was in Grade 12, but it had ended
badly. Really badly. Tilly had got
pregnant and Themba had denied
that it was his baby and had ignored
her from then on.
“Those Mlongenis are no good,” her
father used to say. “Stay clear of
them.” And then when Tilly got
pregnant, their dad threatened: “If I
see any of you so much as speaking
to one of those boys you will not be
welcome in this house. You’ll be on
your own. Do you understand?”
Ntombi and Zinzi had nodded in
silence. But where was their dad
now? And was it really fair to blame
the younger brother for the older
brother’s behaviour. And here he
was winking at her – and so cute!
All these thoughts went racing
through her mind as the taxi hooted
and screamed along in the fast lane.
Each day was a dice with death in
these taxis, and the music pumped
so loudly it was giving Ntombi a
headache even before she got to
school. This one had gansta rap
blasting out, an angry man’s voice
shouting and swearing, with the boys
at the back joining in the chorus.
As Ntombi stepped down from the
taxi her school bag fell, and all the
books were splayed out on the
pavement for everyone to see. She
nearly died of embarrassment.
Everyone was stepping over and
around her as they got off the taxi, in
a hurry to get to assembly before the
bell went. Everyone except for Mzi.
Ntombi looked up. He was standing
over her. For a moment she
panicked. There was no one else
around. The taxi driver had driven
off. They were alone on the
pavement. Who could she call? But
then he squatted down next to her.
“Let me help you,” he said in the
sweetest, gentlest voice she had
ever heard. A voice that could melt
butter.
He started collecting her books and
handing them to her. She put them
back in her bag. As he passed her
an English workbook his hand
touched hers. She looked up, and for
a second they stared into each
other’s eyes. Then she quickly put
the book away and stood up.
“Thanks,” she said quickly.
“It’s a pleasure, helping someone as
cute as you. You know, I’ve been
watching you since the beginning of
term.”
“Really?” said Ntombi, feeling a
flutter in her stomach. What was she
doing talking to one of the Mlongeni
boys? And alone? Her father would
chase her out of the house. But her
father was who-knows-where? “I
must run. I’m late,” she said.
“Meet me down at the sports shed at
break time. I’d like to give you
something,” he said and smiled that
cute smile again. As she ran up the
stairs into the school foyer she
turned. He was still standing
watching her. “Promise?” he called
after her.
“Yes,” she called back, feeling thatshe was flying