The closing elevator doors.

Rushing towards the closing elevator doors, she thumped her foot on the ground out of frustration. The same frustration was quickly evaporating in her because soon the doors opened once more and she thanked the Almighty that she wouldn’t be so damn late! Walking in, she smiled and said good-morning. The answer to her greeting puzzled her but it seemed innocent and sincere. “You’ve got a beautiful smile,” was what this stranger had said. Flushed with appreciation and acknowledgement, she engaged herself to the small talk that carried on from 5th floor to Ground floor. Walking out the building, she didn’t expect that some elevator man would ask her if he could give her a lift to Wits. One thing that surprised her more was her reaction to this aura of his that was drawing her in. Maybe she agreed because she knew how late she was, but that icy morning was one far too complex for her to understand...

Sitting in this stranger’s BMW for just over two hours outside Wits, was an experience of a lifetime. Mu was his name and boy did he have great hair! It was long brown hair that was just touching his shoulders, curly, soft, and frilled. Mu had dreamy brown eyes that were big and eyes that had seen a lot, so much that a 500 paged novel could never cover. Mu was a not-so-tall man with a well fed body, big boned or simply well structured, with a seemed to be beer-belly. He had a light complexion that dwelled between Coloured and Indian skin. Mu had dark juicy lips, a typical Indian button nose, thick eyebrows and a short chin with chubby cheeks. Mu had a ring pierced on his right eyebrow which had a small blue ball attached to it. Mu was handsome, inviting, mysterious, experienced and knowledgeable. He wasn’t what she had expected at all she had thought, when they were sitting in the company car.

She looked him straight in the eye and listened intensively. He fascinated her with talk about society, capitalism, work, retirement and a brief overview of his life. They listened to some music and found that they had similar taste except for reggae and deep hip hop. Mu had the cutest laugh and he glowed when he chuckled. He told her he appreciated the fact she listened to him. As time went by, she honestly didn’t want to go. All she wanted to do was sit there and listen to his wisdom and to talk about the world and it’s under current corruption.

He wanted her number but he wouldn’t give her his. He told her about his ex-wife and their child. He has been divorced for merely five months and he was still hurting, bruised, crushed and heartbroken, and was hoping for her to return to him.

His ex wife was a beautiful young Afrikaner woman. She came from a very wealthy family. She was the only child and she was given the universe on a silver platter. When she met Mu in London, she knew that there was no turning back. As they flew back together from London, she thought of what her father would say about his little girl growing up and finally wanting to settle down.

“We stood at the door and waited for someone to open the door. I was so nervous, but I was excited because I wanted to be with the woman who was standing beside me”, Mu explained. As the door opened and they entered her home, he was seated in the living room and she was upstairs freshening up. When her father strolled into the living room, he was rather unaware of this unwanted guest sitting in his house. He was as polite as expected and his daughter walked in just in time to introduce Mu to her Pa. The act her father put up lasted long enough for the two love birds to decide to go to India to elope. Once there, she married Mu and became a Hindu wife. Their cultural differences were never an issue and they seemed to love each other unconditionally until they ran out of money. They then decided to come back to South Africa and find a place to raise their growing son. When the news of their elopement reached her family, the father bought them a house close to his own. “The man is a mastermind! He didn’t buy that house just so that he could see his grandson grow up in a good home, but rather to get rid of me and take my son away from me.” Mu knew that his race would come in the way of his happiness. The worst part of it is that he is a mixture of so many different ethnicities. As time passed, the child was taken away from them and he was seen by the law as an unfit father, even though he took care of his son since his very first cry. The mother’s mind was brainwashed by her parents and she ended up not being there for her son during his early life. The father loathed Mu but he didn’t understand why they would want to take his son away from him.

Why is race such an issue when it comes to relationships? Multi-relationships are a challenge but they shouldn’t be. We are all human, whether we are Black, Coloured, Muslim, Zimbabwean or White, why should the colour of our skin or where we come from be more important than happiness and love? Why is it that the wounds of our past refuse to heal?

Mu has not spoken to his son for three months now, and he just wishes that he could have full custody of his one and only son. “The doors which open to happiness and true love have closed for me but the window of opportunity is still open,” said Mu with a smile.

No entry

As a pupil in Laêrskool Louis Trichardt, I was tormented by white Afrikaner boys because of my short tiny body and my big eyes. Most the white people thought I was cute, so they would often defend me and try to protect me from the bullies. “Kort kaffertjie” and “Groot oë” are only some of the names they would call me. As time went by, I grew a thicker skin. Their actions and remarks just bounced off me, and that benefited me in Hoërskool Louis Trichardt because now I could grow into a strong individual.

The hound would not stop barking when I was there. Its bark was loud and vicious, yet I had no fear. Why would I be; we had one in our house too...

As we entered, he held my hand and led me into the house. The distinct smell of roses filled the room. The porcelain vase in which the roses were in was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The family portrait against the peach wall was painted by his cousin. The cabinet along side it was carved by his grandfather. The different curves and the wood that was used, made it look so ancient, even though it still shined. The cabinet, which apparently has been sent down from one generation to another, is the one thing that he does not appreciate.
When I was seated along side him, I could not help but notice the twinkle in his hazelnut eyes. His skin looked smoother and creamier than usual. His thin luscious pink lips revealed his Colgate smile and deep dimples in his cheeks. “My mum will love you!” His voice sounded in my ear and his hand over mine reassured me that I will be accepted.

Philip de Beer was right, his mother did love me. She adored me and so did the sister. The mother was so sweet and we really hit it off. I was well behaved; used my fork and knife, patted my lips constantly, and chewed slowly with my mouth closed. I giggled softly at each joke and I gave intelligent responses.

But the hound kept barking...

Philip and I were madly infatuated with one another. We had so much in common and we were so incredibly happy together. His touch always gave me a chill but his thin luscious pink lips against my thick juicy lips brought absolute excitement!
While we were enjoying the dessert, the hound stopped barking. The sound that replaced the barking was a winning crying sound. I could hear the hound panting, but it started barking again, and this time it was not vicious. I saw headlights. “Mum, when is Pa supposed to come back home?” Her face turned almost pale and the sister excused herself from the table and ran upstairs. There was a rattling of keys and the hound’s sounds got more amplified in the silent dining room. The door opened, and the footsteps echoed in the passage way. “Liefie, eks terug van die vergadering,” was what turned her so damn pale!

Mr De Beer walked into his dinning room and saw me sitting along side his son and across his wife. “Wat maak die kaffer in my huis?” he barked. The fear in that room was so intense. The hound barked louder and louder and so viciously. Mr De Beer stared at me with cold hazelnut eyes which were filled with loath. He moved towards the portrait and looked at it, and then he looked at the cabinet along side it. He unlocked it and before I knew it, he had a long hunting rifle in his hand. My heart started pounding out of my chest and beads of sweat were formulating on my forehead. I stood up and said: “Ek is so jammer Mnr De Beer.” I slowly started stepping towards the door with the rifle pointed at me. The mum was saying something which I could not hear. All that I could hear was the hound’s barking and Philip’s voice in the back round, until I heard a sharp click of metal against metal. That was when I ran out, without looking back. I ran so fast that the hound could not get close enough to take a bite. I ran almost three blocks until my heart could not allow me to keep going. My body threw itself on the lawn of some corner house. I lay there, crying involuntarily for what seemed to be hours, but then, I could smell his scent hovering so romantically and tantalizingly over my nose. I opened my wet swollen eyes and Philip was looking down into them. He kept apologising and asking me to forgive him. In my heart I wanted nothing else but to be with him. We were in love...

But like a dog barking against a closed door. A door locked with chains with a sign saying ‘NO ENTRY’ maybe it is ought to be ‘WHITES ONLY’.