Published in 2018 by Penguin Random House South Africa (Pty) Ltd
Company Reg No 1953/000441/07
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Century City, 7441, South Africa
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www.penguinrandomhouse.co.za
© 2018 Siphiwe Gloria Ndlovu
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying and recording, or be stored in any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.
First edition, first printing 2018
ISBN 978-1-4152-0942-4 (Print)
ISBN 978-1-4152-1011-6 (ePub)
Cover design by Gretchen van der Byl
Author photograph by Salome Wangechi Maina
Text design by Chérie Collins
Set in 12 on 17 pt Adobe Garamond Pro
In beloved memory of
Sibongile Frieda Ndlovu
Characters
(in order of appearance)
IMOGEN ‘GENIE’ ZULA NYONI: around whose life and death the events of this story take place
BAINES TIKITI (BORN BAFANA NDLELAPHI): Genie’s grandfather
PRUDENCE NGOMA: Genie’s grandmother
GOLIDE GUMEDE (BORN LIVINGSTONE STANLEY TIKITI): Genie’s father
ELIZABETH NYONI: Genie’s mother
MINENHLE TIKITI: Golide’s sister and Genie’s aunt
BENNINGTON BEAUFORD: settler farmer and owner of the Beauford Farm and Estate
BEATRICE BEIT-BEAUFORD: heiress of the Beauford Farm and Estate
KUKI SEDGWICK (LATER COETZEE, AND LATER STILL CARMICHAEL): Beatrice’s best friend
EMIL COETZEE: Kuki’s husband and head of The Organisation of Domestic Affairs
MORDECHAI GATIRO (ALSO KNOWN AS C10): an operative of The Organisation of Domestic Affairs, later Minenhle’s partner
THANDI HADEBE (LATER MASUKU): a resident of the Beauford Farm and Estate; Marcus and Krystle’s mother; Genie’s adoptive mother
MARCUS MASUKU: Thandi and Dingani’s son; Genie’s friend
JESTINA NXUMALO: a resident of the Beauford Farm and Estate
DINGANI MASUKU: Thandi’s husband; Marcus and Krystle’s father; Genie’s adoptive father
KRYSTLE ‘CHRIS’ MASUKU: Thandi and Dingani’s daughter; Genie’s adoptive sister
EUNICE MASUKU: Dingani’s mother
BHEKITHEMBA NYATHI: journalist working for The Chronicle
COSMOS NYATHI: Bhekithemba’s grandfather
THE MAN HIMSELF: current head of The Organisation
VALENTINE TANAKA: Chief Registrar of The Organisation
VIDA DE VILLIERS (ALSO KNOWN AS JESUS): street dweller and later Genie’s partner
DAVID: educated street dweller
GOLIATH: street kid and gang leader of The Survivors
THE SURVIVORS: gang of street kids
MATILDA: housekeeper of The House That Jack Built
STEFANOS: gardener at The House That Jack Built
DR PRISCA MAMBO: Genie’s doctor
ESME MASUKU: Marcus’ wife
XANDER DANGERFIELD: vet at an animal rescue shelter
THE WAR VETERANS: current occupiers of the Beauford Farm and Estate
MR MENDELSOHN: undertaker
Prologue
On the third of September, not so long ago, something truly wondrous happened on the Beauford Farm and Estate. At the moment of her death, Imogen Zula Nyoni – Genie – was seen to fly away on a giant pair of silver wings, and, at the very same moment, her heart calcified into the most precious and beautiful something the onlookers had ever seen.
A few had already been chosen to witness this event. However, most of you have eyes that are not for beauty to see, and because of this you will not believe that such a truly amazing phenomenon did take place. It is because some of you will have doubt, and those of you who do not have doubt will be curious, that this story is choosing to be told.
Like any event, what happened to Genie did not happen in a vacuum: it was the result of a culmination of genealogies, histories, teleologies, epistemologies and epidemiologies – of ways of living, remembering, seeing, knowing and dying.
In other words, the story of what happened to Genie on the Beauford Farm and Estate on the third of September is also the story of how Baines Tikiti, in a bid to quench his wanderlust, walked into the Indian Ocean; of how Prudence Ngoma learned how to build character; of how Golide Gumede shot down an aeroplane and in doing so created a race of angels; of how Elizabeth Nyoni sealed her fate with the turn of her ankle; of how Dingani Masuku came to be haunted by the blue-violet flowers on his mother’s dress; of how Thandi Hadebe looked into the distance as though it held a future in which she was not particularly interested; of how Krystle Masuku, at puberty, welcomed guilt as her constant companion; of how, for Marcus Masuku, love happened under a jacaranda tree while he was listening to a story about swimming elephants; of how Valentine Tanaka became a hunchback with a heart of gold; of how Jesus came to be saved; and of how the Beauford Farm and Estate knew exactly what to do with its sacrificed darlings.
BOOK ONE
PART I
GENEALOGY
GENESIS
Genie’s beginning was like all our beginnings – beautiful and golden.
After spending the night with Golide Gumede, Elizabeth Nyoni felt something give way in the space that he had come to occupy in her heart – it travelled through her body and found its way onto her mattress. When Elizabeth picked it up and placed it delicately in the palm of her right hand, she discovered that it was a shiny golden egg. It was at that moment she realised that her fate was sealed: she was bound to Golide Gumede for an eternity.
Golide Gumede had been born Livingstone Stanley Tikiti. But before he could be born, his parents had to meet. And before his parents could meet, their circumstances had to be such that when they did meet they could actually do something about it.
His father had been born on the Ezulwini Estate and christened Bafana Ndlelaphi. Bafana had had the great fortune of being born within the sphere of Mr Chalmers’ benevolence. Mr Chalmers was a gentleman farmer, and, as such, had had the time to teach the young Bafana how to read and write. He taught him these things not necessarily because he believed that the boy would be able to use the skills when he grew up, but because those were the skills he could teach the boy when he was at his leisure.
As a result, Bafana grew up to be an enterprising young man who was a rare thing for his time: a moderately educated black man. Without much effort he got a job as the assistant of a Greek travelling salesman. Because of this he became an even rarer thing – a black man who had the opportunity to travel the length and breadth of the country. Bafana found that he loved to travel. He marvelled at the often incongruous nature of his country: a raging waterfall, rocks that balanced precariously on top of one another, and a flower that looked like a roaring flame that had once upon a time caught its breath and never exhaled. He often wished he had a way to capture the many sights he saw, but all he had was his memory. In Mr Chalmers’ library, in leather-bound, sombre-looking books, were the journals of great men: David Livingstone, Thomas Baines, Henry Morton Stanley; men who had been able to record what they discovered on their travels. Bafana felt an affinity to these men, these explorers. He felt that he too was an explorer, or would have been had he not had the misfortune of being born in the wrong century. He felt that the name he had been born with, Bafana Ndlelaphi – which literally meant ‘boys, which is the way’ – was not fit for an explorer such as himself and so he changed it to Baines Tikiti.
Tikiti – a ticket, something one purchased in order to go on a journey. Something that gave one purpose.
The Greek travelling salesman felt his fortune in having Baines as his assistant. Baines was a natural-born charmer who, even with the limits of language, was able to get the most miserly and frugal woman to reach into that space underneath her left breast that held the grimy handkerchief that held the even grimier sixpence that stood between the woman and absolute poverty. There often was hesitation once the handkerchief had been brought out into the light of day, but after Baines said a few words in the seductive and universal language of commerce, the woman would smile and then nod resolutely before untying the tightest and truest knot, using her teeth and calloused, blunt fingers to pry the handkerchief open and reveal the thing that she had treasured most until that very moment: a sixpence that a husband or son had laboured for in the mines, on farms or in the cities. The once frugal woman would walk away with her new treasures – an oil lamp whose leak she had not yet discovered, a smooth blanket that she did not yet know might pill after its first wash, a dress she did not yet know was either several sizes too small or too big because she had not been allowed to try it on, a mirror whose silver edge would inevitably tarnish, then corrode and rust.
Women, young and old, single and married, abandoned and widowed, loved Baines, and Baines tried to love them in return, but he loved his travel more, and, as a result, he broke quite a lot of hearts. This, however, did not stop him from selling cheap European trinkets to unsuspecting African women throughout the colony.
Then one day Baines and the Greek travelling salesman arrived at Guqhuka – a village that was soon to be turned into the Beauford Farm and Estate – and something very surprising happened: for the first time Baines was not able to charm a sixpence out of a woman’s hand. To make matters even more mortifying, the woman did not have her sixpence tucked away under her left breast; she held it, temptingly shiny and new, between her thumb and her forefinger, ever so ready to give it away, if only Baines would show her something that she liked. He showed her shoes that he claimed were of the finest Spanish leather; she was sure they would pinch. He showed her a mirror; she wondered what possible use her own reflection would be to her, since she already knew herself. He showed her a pair of pillowcases, baby soft pink with delicate lace edges; she wanted to know where the pillows that went inside the pillowcases were (a question that he had never been asked before). Not quite defeated, he showed her the one thing that he thought no woman could resist – a crown fit for a queen, sparkling with rhinestones and the insincere glitter of cheap metal; she asked what kind of queen would wear a crown that only cost sixpence.
It was his turn to ask questions: What is your name? Prudence Ngoma. Where are your people from? Here. You obviously have travelled, where have you been? The City of Kings. Would you marry me?
An arched eyebrow let Baines know that she had heard his proposal. She asked him a question in return. Where are you from? Ezulwini. I have never heard of the place. But she said this in such a way that he knew she would not mind hearing more about the place and seeing it for herself some day. They married soon after and settled in Ezulwini.
The temptingly shiny and new sixpence never passed from her fingers to his.
Baines made a concerted effort to settle, but he could not cure his wanderlust. He had to travel, had to see the world, and, having seen his country, was now yearning to see beyond its borders. Like many other young men, he left for South Africa; unlike those young men, he was not headed towards the diamond or gold mines, but keen to do whatever job would allow him to travel. He almost immediately found a job as a travelling salesman for His Master’s Voice gramophones. An easy job, he found, since people were enchanted by the magical machinations of a needle moving along the grooves of a black disc and making the most melodious sounds. They bought the machine without fully understanding it, but firmly believing in its magic.
Prudence worried that, like many of the young men who left for South Africa, Baines would not return. Although he sent her money religiously, for five years it looked as though she had every reason to worry. And then one day he returned with a His Master’s Voice gramophone under one arm. He gave it as a present to Mr Chalmers to thank him for his ennui-induced benevolence. For Prudence he brought the empty crook of his other arm for her to nestle her head in as she listened to his deep voice tell her tales of futures faraway, so allowing her to peacefully and contentedly drift off to sleep. His eyes were wide and bright with the wonder of all he had seen in South Africa. South Africa – one country that touched two oceans, imagine that. Prudence tried to imagine it, but, never having seen an ocean, was not able to. There was nothing left for it but to determine that Prudence would have to see South Africa for herself. Unfortunately, Prudence had to postpone the gratification of her desire because Baines’ visit had left her with the expectation of a child, a baby boy whom Baines christened, via letter, Livingstone Stanley Tikiti. Prudence waited until after her son’s second birthday to visit her husband. Not trusting travel the way her husband did, she left her son at home and travelled alone, eager to see Baines and the country he loved so much.
However, when Prudence arrived in South Africa, she found Baines in love with something else – a contraption that, like a bird, could fly through the sky. It was called an aeroplane. In the hostel, the four walls of his one-room flat were covered with pictures of this new love. Imagine being able to see the world – all the world – in a matter of days. Ships and trains were things of the past. The aeroplane was something of the future. Baines’ eyes sparkled with a brilliance and his voice was weighted by an excitement that was contagious. While in South Africa, amid all the pictures and talk of aeroplanes, Prudence was able to imagine a life there with Baines and their son ... a life in which they too would, perhaps, be able to fly away some day. She went back to Ezulwini and eagerly awaited the day that Baines would send for her and their son.
It took Baines almost five years to prepare a life for his wife and son because he wanted to make sure that their lives would not only be comfortable but also filled with travel. He bought a house in the newly built townships. He bought a bed. He bought a sofa. He bought a Welcome Dover stove. He bought a very-much-used convertible car. He could have bought any kind of car, but it had to be a convertible because not only did he want his family to have the best view as they travelled the country, he also wanted his family to be seen travelling the country. It was only once he was in possession of the convertible car that he sent for his wife and son. He proudly drove his convertible car, top down, all the way to the train station.
But unfortunately it was not meant to be. When Baines saw his son, he knew that he could not go travelling with him. His son’s too-white skin, which seemed luminescent and translucent, made him vulnerable to the elements. They would always have to travel with the top up.
He watched as his son, awestruck, looked at the pictures of the aeroplanes on the walls. He watched as his son drew aeroplanes in the pages of an old His Master’s Voice sales ledger. He watched as his son built model aeroplanes from the wires the workmen who had fenced the premises had left behind. Baines Tikiti was fascinated by the boy. He loved the boy but knew that they could not share in the same life. If only he had known of the boy’s condition, then he would have prepared a very different life for them. Baines asked Prudence why she had never told him. Her heart breaking, she asked him why it should have mattered. His heart breaking, he sent his family back to Ezulwini.
Prudence could have returned home humiliated, but she did not. She returned home with only one regret – that she had not fully understood the man she had married. She also returned home unknowingly expecting another child, a daughter. When her daughter was born she named her Minenhle – ‘I, the beautiful one’. Prudence left Ezulwini and returned to the place of her birth, which during her absence had become the Beauford Farm and Estate.
For his part, Livingstone Stanley Tikiti returned hom
e with the memory of a distant father and a knowledge and understanding of flight.
Baines, although he understood that he could not live the life he wanted with his family, still loved them and continued to send money home religiously. Prudence, because she cherished the son that Baines had given her, found that she could no longer return the love of a man so blinded and foolish as not to see his own son’s beauty, and just as religiously sent back the money that he sent her.
One day, Baines Tikiti, after receiving yet another return-to-sender, drove his convertible to the Indian Ocean, got out, walked into its waters, and allowed himself to be carried away by its waves. Never to return. When she received the news, Prudence hoped, for his sake, that this had finally fulfilled his wanderlust.
Prudence’s union with Baines Tikiti had taught her one essential lesson – a person’s character was the most important thing. It was all very well to be a charmer, to be able to make people love you, but charm did not have a very strong foundation. Charm was something altogether too dependent on others. Character was different. Character was something that you sowed, nurtured, grew, cultivated and then reaped. It spoke to an inner strength. It made a life into one that was lived with purpose. Prudence raised her children to have character, to be proud and strong, to not be afraid of humility and vulnerability, to hold their heads at a particular angle and never feel or look defeated by whatever life dealt them.
And so it was, under such sage and sanguine tutelage, that Livingstone Stanley Tikiti grew into a man. His self-possession made him a natural leader. His self-confidence instilled confidence in others. People gravitated towards him because he was not what they had expected him to be. They had expected him to be ashamed of his skin, to be cowed by life, to regret his circumstances. But when he held his head high they realised just what was possible. They believed that he saw into the future and that the future was good. He really did not have to do much, because just in being he held a promise and people were happy to follow him.
The Theory of Flight Page 1