It was a warm, sunny morning, and the house was already buzzing with activity. Lumka, Sandile's mom, was pacing around the living room, calling out instructions like a drill sergeant. "Mmabatho, are you ready? We're going to be late for the tailor!"
"I'm coming, Ma!" Mmabatho shouted back, adjusting the baby carrier strapped to her chest. Sonele was snuggled up, wide-eyed and alert, probably wondering what all the commotion was about.
When she walked into the room, Lumka was already waiting by the door, holding her handbag and looking like she had no patience left. "Hayi, man, you young people are slow. Let's go!"
As they drove to the tailor's shop, Lumka kept humming to herself, occasionally glancing back at Sonele. "This boy is going to steal the show at the imbeleko. Look at him, already charming everyone," she said, reaching over to gently stroke his cheek.
When they got to the shop, it was like stepping into a world of color. Bright fabrics with intricate Xhosa designs were draped everywhere, and the tailor, Mam'Nozi, greeted them with a huge smile. "Ah, Lumka! And who's this handsome little man?"
"This is my grandson, Sonele," Lumka said proudly, lifting him out of the carrier.
Mam'Nozi clapped her hands. "He's adorable! And you, sisi," she said, turning to Mmabatho, "you're glowing. Motherhood suits you."
"Thank you," Mmabatho replied, feeling a little shy.
The fitting process started with Lumka. Mam'Nozi measured her, adjusted the fabric, and chatted away about the ceremony. Then it was Mmabatho's turn, and things got a bit chaotic.
Sonele started fussing just as Mam'Nozi was wrapping a fabric around Mmabatho's shoulder. His tiny cries filled the room. "Hayi, Ma," Mmabatho said, turning to Lumka, "can you hold him for a bit?"
Lumka didn't need to be asked twice. She scooped him up and started humming a lullaby in Xhosa. Sonele calmed down immediately and even reached for her face, his tiny fingers brushing her cheek.
"Did you see that?" Lumka said, beaming. "Lo mfana uyamazi kakade ugogo wakhe" (This boy knows his gogo already.)
"Of course he does," Mam'Nozi said with a laugh. "He's spoiled with love, clearly."
By the time Sandile showed up to fetch them, they were halfway through picking out designs. He walked in wearing his usual crisp shirt and pants, looking like he'd just stepped out of a magazine. "Am I interrupting?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the scene.
"You're right on time," Lumka said. "Your turn to try on your outfit."
Sandile groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Yes, you do," Lumka and Mam'Nozi said at the same time.
When Sandile came out of the fitting room, wearing a sleek black-and-white umbhaco-inspired outfit with beaded details, everyone went silent for a moment.
"Yoh," Mmabatho said without thinking. "You look... good."
Sandile smirked. "Just good?"
"Don't push it," she replied, but her cheeks felt hot.
Lumka chuckled. "Alright, Mr. Fashion Show, let's go. The baby needs his nap."
When they arrived at the house, it was alive with activity. Aunties bustled about, carrying heavy cast-iron pots and chopping vegetables for the upcoming ceremony. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, and the rhythmic sound of knives hitting chopping boards filled the space.
Mmabatho greeted everyone politely before heading inside with Sonele. He was starting to fuss again, and she knew he needed feeding. She settled into her room, breastfeeding him and humming softly.
After putting him down for a nap, she adjusted her scarf and changed into a more respectful outfit with a modest headwrap. As she stepped outside, she overheard snippets of conversation from a group of aunties nearby.
"Did you hear about Khanyiswa?" one whispered.
"Of course. She's still trying to make trouble, saying that baby isn't Mmabatho's," another said.
"And the divorce? What a mess. That poor child," a third chimed in.
Mmabatho sighed and kept walking, refusing to let their words affect her. She had more important things to focus on.
Outside, Lumka was overseeing the cooking, her voice carrying above the chaos as she directed the women. "Gxumisa mbiza! Kwaye ungalibali ukongeza ityuwa!" (Stir that pot! And don't forget to add salt!)
Mmabatho stepped in to help. "Ndingenza ntoni, Ma?" (What can I do)
Lumka handed her a wooden spoon. "Apha, xuba oku. Make sure it doesn't burn." (Here, stir this)
Sandile wandered over, drawn by the smell of the food. "Is it ready yet?" he asked, reaching for a piece of meat cooling on a plate.
Before he could grab it, Mmabatho smacked his hand lightly with the spoon. "Behave yourself!"
Sandile laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. But save me some!"
The aunties chuckled as Lumka shook her head. "This one will never grow up," she teased.
As the sun set and the preparations wound down, Lumka pulled Mmabatho aside. "You're doing well, my girl," she said softly. "Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."
Mmabatho nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude. She wasn't just doing this for Sonele; she was doing it for herself too.