Married To An Assassin

Zizwe is a millionaire

I'm stirring at the porridge when someone slaps the back of my head so hard I almost fall. I turn to see who did it. It's Cairo.

"Ouch, that hurts Cairo." I tell him, rubbing the back of my head. Guys can be rough, that's why I wished for a baby sis. Don't get me wrong, I love my brothers but sometimes they annoy me.

"You stupid girl." He slaps me again.

"Cairo, Kenya is your sister. Older sister, stop hitting her and apologise." I don't want his apology, I want to know why he hit me so hard. Not only once but twice.

"I don't care about the apology. I want to know what you think I did."

"Who did you go out with yesterday?" He asks. He's only asking me now? After they forced me to go out with Zizwe.

"Zizwe?" I don't even know why I'm asking him.

"Oh my God Kenya. What did we do to deserve a big sister like you?" Cairo asks me, sounding defeated.

"Are you sure she wasn't adopted?" Afrika asks my parents. He asks that question everytime I do or say something dumb. That question used to make my dad super mad because he's not my biological father. But he learned to control his temper, because my brothers ask that question a lot. When I ask what's wrong. He hands me his phone and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with me. I gasp when I see the headline. I gasp again when I see the pictures. I don't remember anyone taking pictures. The first picture was taken when Zizwe pulled out the chair for me. The second one we are both laughing. The third was taken when he held the cab door open for me. And the last picture was taken when I was in the cab and he was standing there looking at the cab. My parents are beside me in a second. I can't believe my eyes. I've heard of one of the sought after South African bachelors, Zosukumizizwe 'Zizwe' Kunene. But I never paid attention. I don't know what he looked like. And then I gasp remembering the lies I told him yesterday.

"What is it?" Afrika asks. When I tell them, they turn to my parents. I've never seen Cairo so speechless and defeated.

Now I see why Zizwe walks into a room and people become quiet. They stop what they are doing to look at him. I noticed that the first time we met and even last night.

"Why would you do that?" My dad asks me looking confused. I can't tell him the truth. I just shrug.

"What's wrong with being a cleaner?" Afrika asks me. I'm too ashamed to say anything so I go back to stirring the pot. I hope there won't be any lumps in the porridge. During breakfast my family keeps talking about Zizwe. Even my mom is smiling and commenting. So going out on a date with a millionaire is an achievement in my mom's mind. My dad keeps telling me I need to come clean. But I'm scared. I decide to text Zizwe

Why didn't you tell me who you were?

Afrika tries to read my texts but my mom reprimands him. She's big on privacy. While friends were complaining about parents budging into their rooms without knocking my mom would lecture my dad for doing that. So we learnt to respect each other's rooms.

You saw the article? We look good together. Did you see that?

I sigh. I'm trying to be serious. It would have been nice if he told me the truth. But then I think about my lies.

"I hope you are telling him the truth." My mom comments which annoys me.

"Why is everyone in my business?" I ask, getting mad. I'm not mad at them. I'm mad at myself for being stupid and lying. I should've been honest.

"Watch your tone. Remember who you are in this house. A child." My mom replies. She likes reminding people of their places.

I'd like to see you again soon. He texts me. I was going to send him the same text. But I don't want him to think I'm using him because he's a millionaire. I bet women throw themselves all over him all the time. We agree on the time, day and place. We argue for some time when I tell him I'll pay, he won't let me.