Sylvie's Love by Thabi Majabula
SYLVIE’S LOVE
By
Thabi Majabula
Copyright 2012 Thabi Majabula
This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
EPILOGUE
GLOSSARY
CHAPTER ONE
“What do you expect me to do?” demanded Thuba. Sylvie flinched.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said.
“Why not? Why don't you hurt me? We'd both feel better,” she said. They were eyeballing each other, his hands on her forearms, as they stood chest to chest. At six foot two, and built lean, Thuba towered over Sylvie, who stood at a voluptuous five foot five. He released her, and stepped back from her. They continued to watch each other.
“Were you raped?” he asked.
“No! Why would you ask me that?”
“I'm trying to understand why you're so scared of sex.”
“I'm not scared!”
“We've been married six months, and you get tense and fight me off if I so much as kiss you. Do I repel you?”
“No.”
“Before we married, I assumed you were a virgin.”
“I am.”
“Then, I could explain your fear. Now, I think you enjoy taunting me.”
“I do not!”
“Do you want me to force you? Is that how you get your thrills?”
“No!”
“Then what is going on with you?”
“Nothing!” Sylvie looked away from Thuba, then she sat down.
“I can't go on like this. I have needs,” he said.
“I know.”
“What do you suggest I do, since you won't give me what I need?”
“We could get a divorce.”
“No!”
“It's the best way, Thuba, then you can find someone else.”
“I spent a lot of years looking for the right woman, and that woman is you.”
“I can't have sex with you.”
“You'll learn.”
“Never!” vowed Sylvie, getting to her feet.
“You'd better learn, Sylvia. I'm going out of town for a week. When I come back, you better have your act together.”
“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” demanded an outraged Sylvie.
“You understand me well,” said Thuba, then he left the lounge.
Sylvie closed her eyes, then she opened them, and threw a cushion across the room.
A while later, Thuba joined her, carrying a suitcase.
“I'm off to China, look after yourself,” he said.
“You too, I hope you get what you want.”
“These days, you're all I want.” Sylvie looked away from him.
“Can I at least get a hug?” asked Thuba. Sylvie went to hug him. They were still, holding each other. Thuba kissed her cheek, then he kissed her gently.
“I want good memories of our goodbye. I love you, Sylvie,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I sometimes wonder. I'll see you when I come back.” Sylvie walked him to his car, and watched him drive off.
She did not like the conversation that they had had. Why did Thuba have to rock the boat? Other than the sex issue, they had a great marriage. If only he would get over his obsession with sex.
She returned home from work one evening, and the lights were on in the house. She unlocked the door.
“Hi, Thuba,” she smiled.
“Hi,” he said, approaching her. He put his arms round her, then he kissed her deeply, fondling her breast. She pushed him violently.
“You haven't changed your tune, I see,” he said. Sylvie put down her handbag.
“You're late. Were you with your lover? Is that why you don't want me, because your needs are being met elsewhere?” asked Thuba.
“No!” said an outraged Sylvie.
“Who is he? What's he got that I don't have? Does he force you?”
“There is no one!”
“Does he pay you? If I pay you, will you sleep with me?”
“Thuba! Stop it!”
“What makes you want him, but not me?”
“There is no one!”
“Then how do you manage? I've been celibate since we started dating three years ago, and I'm going crazy. Don't you have needs?”
“Everyone has needs.”
“Who satisfies yours? No one satisfies mine, since my wife won't let me touch her.”
“I can touch you, I can give you...”
“I want us to be together.”
“That won't happen, unless you force me.”
“I thought you said you didn't want me to force you?”
“I don't!”
“Then why bring it up?”
“I need to tell you something. Sit down.”
“I don't want to.” Sylvie gave him a long look, then she took a deep breath.
“I'm not attracted to men,” she said.
“Don't talk rubbish, every woman is attracted to men, and every man is attracted to women. It's just a question of the type of man you want.”
“I don't want a man, no matter what type of man he is.”
“That's not normal.”
“That's the way I'm made.” They watched each other, then he went to sit down.
“I've thought about it all week. We'll have to get the aunts involved,” he said.
“The aunts?” gasped Sylvie, as her blood went cold.
“I'll tell my aunts, they'll tell yours, your family will call you back, and when they return you to me, you'll be ready to touch and be touched.”
“No!”
“It's the only way. I'm a man, I have needs, and my wife won't meet them, what am I supposed to do?”
“I told you to divorce me.”
“No!”
“Then get another woman.”
“What?” asked a shocked Thuba.
“Find a woman to sleep with.”
“Don't be stupid!”
“I'm trying to solve your problem.”
“The only way to solve it is for you to fulfil your marital duties.” Sylvie looked away from Thuba, then she sat down.
After a while, she heard him punch numbers into his cell phone. She listened as he talked to an aunt of his, telling her that he would be visiting her the following morning. The call ended.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Fixing things in my marriage.”
“This is between you and me.”
“It's been between us for months, and nothing’s changed. You obviously need help, and you're going to get it.”
“It's no one else's business!”
“It's everyone's business. I have a right to touch you, you deny me that. I'm not the kind of man that can be unfaithful, it goes against my grain. I refuse to find another woman, and divorce is out, that leaves the aunts.”
“Thuba...”
“Are you going to let me see you naked?” Sylvie pulled her clothes closer to her body. Thuba stood, and left the room.
A while later, she found him in the bedroom. He had just showered.
“Dinner's ready,” she said.
“I'm not hungry.”
“I made your favourite.”
“You have it,” he said, climbing into bed. He lay down, switched off the light, and there was silence.
“Please don't involve the aunts,” said Sylvie.
“Why not?”
“Becaus
“You don't know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How do you know?”
“I'm not attracted to men.”
“Drop it, Sylvie.”
“I'm attracted to women.”
“Stop lying! No woman can...”
“It's called being a lesbian in English.”
“You're just trying to...”
“It refers to women who have women as lovers.”
“There's no such thing!” shouted Thuba, as he sat up.
“Men are called gay, if they have men as lovers.”
“That's disgusting! You are a normal woman, Sylvie, you are not attracted to women!”
“I am, ask your business partner, Martina.”
“Ask her what? How I can get into bed with my wife?”
“I made a pass at her.”
“Sylvia!”
“She declined, I'm not her type, but she understood where I was coming from.”
“Stop dragging Martina into this, it's between you and me.”
“Yes, it is, that's why the aunts should stay out of it.” There was a silence.
“I'll go to a sex therapist, or a psychologist, but they can't cure me,” said Sylvie. Thuba lay down without responding.
“Thuba, Thuba, Thuba,” called Sylvie. He did not respond. She could tell by his breathing that he was awake. She left the room, packed the food away, then she lay on the couch in the lounge.
She was woken by a noise. She sat up. Thuba was going to the front door.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“I'm going to see my aunts, you heard me make the appointment last night.”
“Don't, Thuba, please.” Thuba opened the door. Sylvie ran after him, and put her arms round him from the back. He wriggled free. She held him again, they struggled, then he stilled.
“Can I touch your breasts?” he asked. Sylvie released him instantly. She watched as he walked to the car. He climbed in, and drove off.
Sylvie returned to the lounge and sat down, her head in her hands. It was going to be horrible. The only way to avoid the horror that would follow was to leave. Where would she go? It was not month end, she had not yet been paid. She thought of taking Thuba's money, and decided against it. She would have to make a plan somehow.
Thuba returned towards dusk. Sylvie had spent the time while he had been away, thinking about where to go, and what to do to survive when she got there. Thuba sat down.
“Why haven't you changed?” he asked.
“I can't do this, Thuba. I can't have the aunts interrogating me, I can't keep on depriving you, I can't force myself to be what I'm not,” she said.
“I'm your husband, you don't have to deprive me.”
“Divorce me. Divorce me, Thuba. It's the best thing for all of us. You can cite irreconcilable differences, or we can have an annulment, since the marriage was never consummated.”
“And how will that look? People will think I'm impotent. No annulment!”
“Then we'll get a divorce. Tell your aunts to forget what you said, and we'll get a quiet divorce.”
“No one in my family has ever been divorced, and I will not be the first one to disgrace the family.”
“Thuba...”
“No!” Sylvie left the room. In the bathroom, she wept as if her heart was broken. When she was done, she ran herself a bath, and sat in the tub until the water was cold. She was woken by a knock on the door.
“Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia,” called Thuba urgently.
“What?” she returned sleepily.
“Come out of there, are you alright?”
“I'm fine.”
“Come out. Are you coming out?”
“Yeah.” Sylvie climbed out of the tub, dried herself, and wrapped a towel round herself. She was about to leave the bathroom, when she decided to dress in her discarded clothes.
She opened the bathroom door, Thuba was waiting for her.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, looking away from the sadness in his eyes.
“Are you hungry? I'll cook,” she said.
“There's only one thing I want, and it's not on the menu,” said Thuba, then he left.
Sylvie decided to sleep, worrying would solve nothing.
When she woke up Thuba had gone out. He had cleaned up and cooked before leaving. He will make some woman a great husband, thought Sylvie. She heard his car drive up, as she was freshening up. When she was dressed, she went to the lounge, and gasped.
Two of Thuba's paternal aunts were in there with him, eating. Sylvie sat down to greet them, they greeted her, and finished their meal. She looked at Thuba, he was giving her an I-told-you-so look. The aunts finished eating, Sylvie took the dishes to the kitchen. One of the aunts called her back to the lounge, as she started washing up. She closed her eyes, then she dried her hands, and went to the lounge. One of the aunts told Thuba to leave, and he left. Sylvie noticed the aunts looking at her.
“MaMthombeni, what are you doing to my brother's son?” asked aunt Tilda.
“Nothing,” said Sylvie.
“Exactly. You are his wife. You cannot do nothing. He paid amalobolo, and you pledged before God and everyone, that you’d be his wife. What kind of wife denies her husband his rights? That boy is entitled to his conjugal rights. Why are you denying him? Answer me!” Sylvie was startled by the raised voice. She did not respond, not knowing what to say.
“Sylvia, Sylvia, I'm talking to you. What is the problem? Answer me,” insisted Aunty.
“I'm not attracted to men,” said Sylvie.
“You married Thuba, you must be attracted to him.”
“I like him.”
“Good, then you should have no problem...”
“I can't.”
“Don't be stupid, Sylvia! Thuba is a very good man. He’s the cream of the crop. If he wasn't my brother's son, I'd marry one of my daughters to him. Get your act together, and be the wife he deserves. He shouldn't have to beg for his conjugal rights, you said you’d give them to him when you married him. We'll go, and be back in a week, if nothing’s changed, you’ll be sent back to your people. Will things have improved when we come back? I'm talking to you!”
“No.” The aunts gave her a long look, they looked at each other, then they looked back at her.
“You leave us no choice. We must send you back to your people. They must teach you, again, your duties as a wife,” said aunt Nobesuthu. Sylvie did not respond.
“You'll be an embarrassment to all of them, is that what you want?” Sylvie had no response. Aunt Tilda called Thuba. Thuba returned to the room.
“We have to return her to her people. We'll do it now,” said aunty.
“What?” gasped Sylvie.
“I told you...”
“Aunty, please...”
“You know what to do. Will you do it?” Sylvie swallowed, but she did not speak.
“Let’s go,” said Aunty.
In a state of shock, Sylvie found herself in her own aunt's home. Aunty was looking daggers at her.
“You are an embarrassment, Sylvia! How can we look the Buthelezis in the eyes, when you do this? Whoever heard of a woman denying her husband his rights? If you don't want to sleep with him, why did you marry him? You shouldn't have married him, now look at the situation you’ve put us in.
“No one in our family has ever been returned to her people. It is known far and wide, that marrying a Mthombeni woman is the best decision a man can make. We are known far and wide for being good wives. No one has ever complained about marrying one of us. How will I tell your other aunts this? What will I tell your father?” demanded aunt Nomonde.
“Aunty...”
“Shut up! Shut up, I'm thinking.” Sylvie left the lounge, and joined her cousins in the kitchen. It was clear that they had heard everything. She offered to help with the cooking, and everyone pretended not to have heard aunty shouting. After su
First thing in the morning, her other two paternal aunts arrived. The three aunts had a brief meeting, then they called Sylvie to join them.
“Sylvia, what’s the problem? Why have you been returned like a bad woman? I'm talking to you!” shouted aunt Belinda.
“I can't sleep with Thuba,” said Sylvie.
“What do you mean by that? Is he a clumsy lover?”
“No...”
“Then there's no problem. If a man doesn't hurt you, you give him what he needs, and be thankful he's not a monster. Go home and do right by your man.”
“I can't.”
“Wena Sylvia...”
“I can't sleep with a man. I can sleep with a woman, but never a man.”
“She's crazy! She's lost her mind!” shouted aunt Patricia.
“She's spoilt. Her mother spoilt her rotten, that's why she's this way. The mother must come and sort out this mess,” said aunt Nomonde.
“I've come across something like this before,” said aunt Belinda.
“She's just spoilt!” insisted aunt Nomonde.
“She's being genuine, but it can be fixed.”
“Yes, with a stick. We'll beat sense into her.”
“That won't help.”
“What will?”
“A traditonal healer.”
“Sisi!” gasped the other two aunts.
“A neighbour of mine had the same problem. She took her daughter to a sangoma, and in no time, the girl's husband was a very happy man,” said aunt Belinda.
“We are Christians!” said aunt Patricia.
“So what? Prayers haven't helped, we must try something else.”
“We don't know that prayers haven't helped.”
“Perhaps not, but I know for a fact that a sangoma will help. We'll take this child to the sangoma who helped my neighbour, and in no time, she'll be giving the Buthelezis a child.”
“I'm not going to a sangoma,” said aunt Patricia.
“Me too,” said aunt Nomonde.
“Then what do you suggest? Do we have the means to return amalobolo?” asked aunt Belinda. The other aunts did not reply.
“Let's tell Buti that we're going to a sangoma. If anything happens to this child while we're there, when we haven't told him, he'll kill us,” said aunt Patricia. After a silence, aunt Belinda phoned Sylvie's parents, inviting them to aunt Nomonde's home. Sylvie fed the aunts, then her parents arrived.
“Sylvia, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?” asked Baba.
“Answer him,” said aunt Nomonde.
“This needs delicate handling. Buti, sit down, MaNtuli, sit down,” said aunt Belinda to Sylvie’s parents. They sat down.
“What's going on?” demanded Baba.
“How are you?” asked aunt Belinda.
“Sisi, I don't have time for niceties. Get to the point,” said Baba.
“Your child is a very big embarrassment, MaNtuli,” said aunt Nomonde, with glee.
“What do you mean by that? Sylvia, what have you done?” demanded Baba.
“Thula wena!” said aunt Belinda to aunt Nomonde. Aunt Nomonde looked down.
“What is it?” insisted Baba.
“Buti, we need a sangoma to...” said aunt Belinda.
“What? I am a bishop of the church, and I will not...”
“Then pray that your prayers fix your child.”
“Sylvia?” said Ma, looking at Sylvie enquiringly.
“She refuses to sleep with her husband,” said aunt Belinda.
“What?” shouted Sylvie's parents.
“Your wife spoilt her, Buti, now look,” said Aunt Nomonde.
“I'm doing the talking!” shouted aunt Belinda.
“What are you talking about?” asked Baba.
“The Buthelezis have returned this child, because she denies her husband his conjugal rights,” said aunt Belinda.
“Sylvia, how could you do such a thing? Did your mother not teach you to...” demanded Baba.
“Obviously not,” scoffed aunt Nomonde.
“I've never had any problem from your mother. She knows her duties, why don't you? Answer me!” shouted Baba.
“I can't sleep with a man, Baba,” said Sylvie.
“Of course you can, since he’s your husband.”
“I can sleep with a woman, but...”
“What?” shouted Sylvie's parents.
“I can...” said Sylvie.
“Shut up! What nonsense is this? Where do you even get a filthy thought like that? Ha!” said Baba, thoroughly disgusted. There was a silence.
“I've met this kind of situation before,” said aunt Belinda.
“It’s nonsense, that's what it is,” said Baba.
“The girl in that situation was sorted out by a sangoma.”
“Now you've lost your mind, just like this child. Beat her, and send her back, I don't have time for nonsense,” said Baba, getting to his feet.
“She needs a sangoma.”
“She needs a beating.”
“Unless you have intentions of returning the Buthelezi property, I suggest you take this seriously.” Baba sat down.
“We called you here to tell you that we’re taking your child to a sangoma,” said aunt Belinda.
“You have to be joking!” gasped Baba.
“Because of your position in the church, if word gets out, we'll say we took her to the sangoma without your knowledge. We have to do this, it's the only way.” Baba glared from aunty to Sylvie.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” he demanded. Sylvie gaped at him.
“Buti, this is the only way I know to solve this problem. Sylvia hasn't slept with her husband since the wedding. It's going on seven months now. If the Buthelezis demand amalobolo, they'll be within their rights,” said aunt Belinda.
“Let us pray for her,” said Ma.
“That won't work.”
“Please, my husband, prayer is what we know. Let's try that,” said Ma to Baba.
“And if it doesn't work?” asked aunt Nomonde.
“It will.”
“What if it doesn't?” There was a silence.
“Then you do it your way,” said Baba.
“She's not staying here,” said aunt Nomonde.
“Get your things, Sylvia,” said Baba.