Mmabatho sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted the blazer of her cream-white outfit for the hundredth time, ensuring every detail was flawless. Today wasn't just any day; it was her day to take the stand, and she wanted to exude strength and confidence, even if she felt neither. Her 30-inch straight wig flowed smoothly past her shoulders, and her white heels clicked against the wooden floor as she paced her room, psyching herself up.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser. It was a text from Ona: You've got this. Don't let that witch get in your head.
A faint smile touched her lips. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her handbag and made her way to the car waiting outside.
The courthouse loomed in front of her like a fortress, the media camped outside ready to pounce. Ignoring the flashing cameras and incessant questions, she walked inside, her head held high, heels clicking purposefully against the marble floor.
Sandile was already there, seated at the defense table. He stood when he saw her approach, giving her a small, reassuring nod. "You okay?"
"The baby's been kicking so hard the past few days, and he's sitting right on my bladder," she admitted with a wry smile. "So, not great. But I'll survive."
Sandile chuckled softly. "He's probably showing his support in his own way."
Mmabatho rolled her eyes, but the small talk helped settle her nerves. She took her seat, clutching her water bottle tightly as the hearing began.
When it was finally her turn, she rose to take the stand. The room fell silent as she walked confidently to the witness box, her heels echoing in the quiet space.
After being sworn in, her lawyer, Mr. Morake, approached with his first question.
"Ms. Phiri, can you explain how you came to be the surrogate for Mr. and Mrs. Jabavu?"
Mmabatho adjusted the microphone and spoke clearly. "About a year ago, I was approached by both Mr. and Mrs. Jabavu to carry their child. It was a mutual agreement, and all the necessary legal and medical steps were taken to ensure everything was in order."
"And throughout this process, have you acted outside the boundaries of your agreement?"
"Never," she said firmly. "I've done everything I was supposed to do. I've attended every appointment, followed medical advice, and maintained an open line of communication with them."
Mr. Morake nodded. "Can you describe your relationship with Mrs. Jabavu during this time?"
Mmabatho hesitated briefly, then continued. "In the beginning, our relationship was professional and amicable. However, as the pregnancy progressed, especially during the second trimester, Mrs. Jabavu became distant and hostile. It was clear she no longer wanted anything to do with me."
Her lawyer gave her an encouraging nod. "Let's address the accusations. You've been accused of attempting to interfere in the Jabavus' marriage. What's your response to these claims?"
Mmabatho's gaze didn't waver. "Those accusations are completely false. My only concern throughout this process has been the health of their child. I have no interest in Mr. Jabavu beyond our professional agreement."
Morake's tone softened. "During this process, you've had some interactions with Mrs. Jabavu that have been described as 'tense.' Can you elaborate on what happened during the argument you had with her?"
Mmabatho's eyes locked onto Khanyiswa, staring her down with an intensity that filled the courtroom. "The argument happened after she confronted me with baseless accusations. She said I was trying to steal her family, which was untrue. I tried to explain myself, but she became aggressive, and I had to walk away for the sake of my mental healthâand the baby."
The room buzzed softly at her words, but her unwavering eye contact with Khanyiswa made the other woman visibly uncomfortable.
Khanyiswa's lawyer stood next, his questions sharp and cutting. "Ms. Phiri, isn't it true that you've spent significant time with Mr. Jabavu outside of medical appointments?"
"Yes," Mmabatho replied coolly. "But only to discuss matters related to the baby. Any time spent together was purely professional."
"And yet you claim no emotional connection to him?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Of course, there's an emotional connection. I'm carrying his child. But that doesn't mean I want to be with him. That's a huge assumption to make."
The questioning dragged on, but Mmabatho's calm and direct responses made it clear she wasn't backing down. By the time she stepped down from the stand, the tension in the courtroom was palpable.
Back at the defense table, Sandile leaned over to her. "You okay?"
"Barely," she muttered, rubbing her stomach. "He's been moving nonstop today. I feel like he's trying to kick his way out."
Sandile chuckled. "That's my boy. Always making his presence known."
She shot him a tired glare but couldn't help the small smile that followed.
As the day ended, both legal teams regrouped to prepare for the next day. Outside the courtroom, the media swarmed as usual, but Mmabatho walked past them like the bad bitch she was, ignoring their incessant questions.
When she finally got home, she kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch, one hand on her stomach. "Alright, little guy," she murmured, "enough kicking for one day, please. Mama needs rest."
For the first time in weeks, the baby seemed to listen.