1. Note in the Weave.

Be sure your sin will find you out

Numbers 32:23b

The grey skies wept heavily that Sunday evening. I had been lying in bed with my fiancé catching up on our favourite series. conversations had risen and fallen in the day, most swallowed by the sound of the rain on the roof. Or by the occasional moan one would let out as we cuddled. It was a good day. 

In between episodes, we would check on TikTok to see what was new or funny. We giggled about the fact that our TikTok’s algorithm now gave us the same content. We stumbled upon a video of a nanny that had fallen pregnant. The nanny’s baby daddy was the child she was paid to look after. It’s a sickening thought and video. 

“What would you do?”, she asked with great curiosity. “If you had been the boy in the situation, what would you do?”. I didn’t answer her immediately. I just let the question hang in the air for a moment as I mulled the possibility of this. Then she said, “You know it’s always possible considering your predicament earlier in your life.” She was right. It was a possibility. And I had never thought about it; that during those nights in my mother’s guest room, she could have fallen pregnant. How could I? I was 8. Until just now I didn’t even think that it was possible for an 8-year-old to impregnate someone. I thought about it a little longer and before I could answer her, she added, “what would you expect me to do?”

I was quiet for maybe fifteen minutes, on my phone googling the possibility of little boys becoming fathers. I saw few articles of The World’s Youngest Fathers and those scared me for a moment. But then I nullified everything with, it’s impossible. If I had been a father at that age, the child would have long surfaced by now. I mulled it over for a few more minutes before I decided to let the thought die. But not before I answered at least one of her questions, “I don’t know how you’d take it. But I would at least try to get to know the child if they wanted me in their life.”. “I don’t think I’d stay.”, she said quietly.

The conversation, like the ones before it, finally fell. We continued with the series and the evening went by. Many days passed and life had gone as it usually does. Until one Tuesday afternoon. 

I was in the office going about my day as usual. A knock on the door made me raise my eyes from my laptop. “Come in” I said with a hint of annoyance in my voice. It was pretty unusual to have visitors at this time and I wondered who had the gall to come at the time since it might mean I couldn’t leave as early as I thought I would. 

A young woman in her early-to-mid-twenties walked in. She was agitated. Her shoulders hunched slightly forwards. Her big round eyes had a tint of red, her eyelids slightly puffed as though she had been crying. She was dressed in a green sweat suit and black sneakers. Travel ready attire. It wasn’t so cold that she should be dressed the way she was. You could tell she had been travelling a long distance. Her large afro somewhat swallowed her small dark face. Her right index finger was fidgeting with her right thumb. She asked if she could find Mr. Thabo Mthembu anywhere. She told me that the security at the gate told her to come to my office.  I told her that she had found the person she was looking for. I asked her how I could be of service. 

“May I take a seat first?”. “Oh, yes! Pardon my manners, it’s been a long day. Please, sit down”. “Thank you, Sir. I am Malaika Bongela, I currently reside in Joburg but I’m originally from around here. I actually grew up not too far from your office. My mother was from here but worked in Mthatha for some years.” I squinted my eyes for a moment as I found this information a little weird to just dump on some random person on a Tuesday afternoon. “I’m sorry, I digress. It’s just that I don’t know how to say this without sounding weird. I uh… I have been on a mission for as long as I can remember, and that mission was to find my biological father.”.  She paused for a bit. I was studying her facial features as she spoke and, man, she looked like a sister of mine. I was convinced for a second that this could be a long-lost sibling of mine that our father never told us about. Then she continued, “My mother died many years back. I was still a child then. She had told me that my father had run away when he discovered that she was pregnant.” Ahh yes, that is precisely what my father would have done, I said to myself. “On her deathbed, she had told me of a letter she had written to me and had kept secret so she would give it to me when I turned 16. But she would, sadly, die before that. So, she saw it fit, given the circumstances that I found it and read it. But only after her funeral.”.

By this time, I had already put my laptop away seeing that this issue was not work-related. She explained the treasure hunt of finding the letter first and how difficult it was to finally get it. In the letter, she only mentioned she, Malaika, was a child of a desperate act. But never mentioned what that act was. And that she would find her answers if she looked for me. 

I was stunned for a minute. Just looking at her, you could tell… 

She continued, “So I have been looking everywhere for you. I’m sorry to just put it bluntly like this. But do you know my father?”. For a moment I wanted to say no. To be fair, I didn’t. But she had travelled this far and that would be rude. I also still thought she was a sister of mine.

“If I may ask, how old are you?”, I enquired. “I turned 22 in March. On the 29th to be exact.”. “Which would mean you were born in 2001. Just a year older than my brother.”. I leaned back on my chair and mulled over the information she had just given me. Could it be? “Well, firstly, my sincerest condolences for your loss. Losing a parent is a pain we cannot fully get over.” “Thank you, you sound like you know something about it”. “Yes, I do… My father.” “My condolences” she said with a simper. “Thank you”, I smiled back. I stroked my beard for a bit before continuing. “I don’t know if I have all the answers that you need at the moment. But you can, at least, rest easy knowing that you have found the person you are looking for. I was about to knock off and head home. How long do you intend to stay this side?”. She said she took leave off work for 6 weeks and she was on her second week. “So, a month more. But, in all honesty, I’m willing to stay for however long it takes.”. I could see from her eyes that this journey had taken quite a toll on her. 22 years is a long time. “If you don’t mind, take my number; text me on WhatsApp. I’ll talk with the family and then I’ll let you know how we can help. I’ll probably text you tomorrow morning. Say … 10 o’clock? Also, if you can, please find the note and have it available.” “Sure, it’s in my car right now, I carry it with me wherever I go. It’s kind of the only homing device I have to track down my father with. I can bring it now if you want to see it”. “Oh, no. No need for that right now. We’ll talk better tomorrow”.

She thanked me profusely for my time and effort. She expressed how much this brought hope for her and that she’d let her friends know and went her way. It was a quiet trip home. I was worried. The impossibility my fiancé had talked about months back became reality. Of course, I knew her father. I am he. It was such a crazy reality. We are just 9 years apart. She’s old enough to be my sibling. How am I going to break the news to my fiancé? Will she continue with the same decision that she had said she would take back then? How was I going to handle that? “You’d obviously accept them. I know how you are about your blood.”, were her words. How was I going to be a father to a 22-year-old? As a 31-year-old even? I don’t really care about what people are going to say, but her existence now is proof of what happened 23 years ago. It’s quite literally our story now. 

How will she take the news? How will my mom take the news? My family? My kids? I, low key, was afraid she’d reject me. Again, she’s an adult now. She probably has her own things going for her in her life. Also, did she then have a stepfather; an uncle; any father figure in her life right now? Were they any good? If so, how would I measure up to them? If not, in both cases, would she expect me to step up now and be a father to her. How could I make up for 22 years of silence? An hour ago, I didn’t even think she existed. 

My mind became a storm cloud. Rumbling with tons of thoughts as I made my way home. Sighs would ever so often break like lightning, and I would constantly try to change sitting positions. I was so frustrated; I didn’t even play any music. I just leaned my head against the window looking into the horizon. The rain had come back, its drops gently tapping the window. I wished it could wash the thoughts that flooded my mind. I was going to my fiancé, and she had to be my first point of contact.