Chapitre 27: 26
A FACE IN THE CROWD
26.
Two months have passed since I discovered I was pregnant, and I'm now fourteen weeks gone. I've visited Katlego's family, the Kgosi, three times, but the last visit was a month ago. That's when I met Baba Tshepo, Katlego's father.
Baba Tshepo called Katlego in my presence and informed him about my pregnancy. Katlego's response cut deep.
"Baba, don't bother yourself with the whore of a lady," he spat. "She's got another man and she's trying to pin the pregnancy on me because her celebrity boyfriend left her."
I felt a sting from his words.
"You shouldn't say that, son," his father reprimanded. "I told you you're on loudspeaker."
Katlego continued, unfazed. "I know, and that's why I'm saying this to her hearing. I'm not going to be fooled twice. Let her take her bastard to her celebrity boyfriend. I'm not going to be pinned on any shit."
I tried to defend myself. "Katlego! There's something called DNA. If you doubt me, we can—"
But he cut me off. "I can't share a child with you, so get rid of it."
The line went dead.
That was the last time I visited the Kgosi's. I regret ever meeting Katlego and his family. His father has my number, but he hasn't reached out since then.
I've come to realize I'll raise my child alone. No need to involve his family anymore.
Today, I'm heading to Meetsi's private house, a first for me. He's invited me, and I'm curious about the real Meetsi, what he hides from the world.
Eleanor got me a car and driver after our Paris deal. We secured a five-year contract, a huge breakthrough for us.
I shared my plans with Eleanor: building my dream house, raising my child in a child-friendly environment. She's searching for a suitable plot.
I didn't get the scholarship due to my pregnancy, so I'll take an extra year. After childbirth, I plan to schedule a weight loss program.
As I prepare for motherhood, I'm focused on creating a better future.
My driver, Themba, drops me off at Meetsi's gate. The house is majestic, surrounded by lush gardens.
Meetsi greets me warmly. "Welcome, Precious. I'm glad you could make it."
I smile, eager to uncover the secrets behind his private world.
---
As Meetsi introduced me to his beautiful twins, Tumisang and Tsholo, my heart swelled. Despite their disabilities, they radiated joy. Tumisang, deaf and mute, and Tsholo, blind, were identical twins with distinct personalities.
Tsholo translated for Tumisang by holding her hands, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Meetsi's devotion to protecting his children from public judgment touched me deeply.
After the twins left for their playroom, Meetsi and I sat alone.
"Where's their mother?" I asked, not meaning to pry.
"She left when they were two," Meetsi replied, his expression neutral. "She's from South Africa, so she went back."
I sensed a deeper story behind his words.
"Did she ever call or ask about them?" I probed gently.
Meetsi's response was curt. "No."
The silence spoke volumes.
Meetsi shifted the conversation. "How's the bean?" He chuckled, referring to my baby's size.
"Honestly, I don't feel pregnant," I confessed. "No cravings, no nausea... nothing. I wonder if there's been a mistake."
Meetsi laughed, his eyes crinkling.
"I'm serious!" I emphasized.
"You're the first pregnant woman I've met who doesn't have any symptoms," Meetsi teased. "Do you want cravings and nausea?"
"No, but I feel like those ladies on social media and in books are exaggerating," I insisted.
Meetsi chuckled again. "Just because you're not experiencing it doesn't mean they're lying."
"They're lying!" I exclaimed, playfully defensive.
Meetsi shared, "Connie had that with the twins. She was always nauseous and had cravings."
I realized Connie was the twins' mother, who had abandoned them.
Meetsi continued, "There were terrible days when I felt irritated too. Like, she'd spit every time. It was irritating. But my mom told us it's normal."
I remembered the tribute to his late mother at the studio.
"The twins resemble your mom," I observed.
Meetsi smiled, his eyes misting. "Yes, they do."
---
Before leaving Meetsi's house, I wanted to spend more time with the twins. The nanny led me to the playroom, designed in pink and purple hues, perfect for little princesses like Tumisang and Tsholo. Their Afro-textured hair captivated me, giving them an authentic African princess vibe. I couldn't help but wish for a girl child too.
As I entered, Tumisang was screaming inaudible words, her sounds unique to those with impaired hearing. Tsholo, the calm one, sat quietly. The room featured child-like drawings and paintings, probably created by one of the twins. A huge smart TV caught my attention, designed for children with special needs, complete with sound narration and subtitles.
I sat beside Tsholo and introduced myself. "What's your name, beautiful?" I asked, knowing their names but seeking a conversation starter.
"Tsholo," she replied, her voice melodic. "What's yours?"
"I'm Precious Lesedi," I said.
"Are you my father's friend?" Tsholo inquired.
"Yes, but I've now upgraded to a family friend," I smiled. "I'm also your friend."
Tumisang took Tsholo's hand and signed to her.
"She's asking if you're carrying a baby," Tsholo translated.
I was surprised. It's just a small bump, almost unnoticeable."Hmm, yes. I'm pregnant. The baby is growing in my tummy."
Tsholo signed back to Tumisang.
"Can I feel it?" Tsholo asked.
I hesitated, unsure if it was too early. "There's nothing to feel yet," I admitted.
But Tsholo's sweet voice made me relent. I placed her hand on my small bump, and she traced every curve.
"It's just your belly," she observed. "I don't feel anything."
"I don't feel anything too! The doctors said I'll have to wait a few weeks to start feeling the baby's movement and kicks," I explained.
"Kicks?" Tsholo's eyes widened.
"Babies kick while in the belly," I said. "It's their happy hour."
"Will you visit when the baby starts kicking?" Tsholo asked. "I want to feel it, please."
Tumisang signed to Tsholo again.
Meetsi returned, ending his long call. "How are you, my ladies?" he asked, signing as he spoke.
Tumisang responded with signs.
"She's asking if you'll visit again," Meetsi translated.
Tsholo chimed in, "She will. You promised to, Precious."
I smiled. "Yes, I will."
Tumisang signed again.
"She's asking if the child is mine," Meetsi explained. "Like her baby sibling."
I clarified, "The baby has two elder sisters, and it's you two."
Tsholo's face lit up. "Really?"
"I want him to be a boy," she said. "I'll get to carry him around."
I guess meetsi signs what I just said to tumisang.
Tsholo surprisingly hugged me, throwing her arms around me. I hugged her back, feeling an unexpected bond.
As I prepared to leave, I knew I'd visit often and call every day. I had the nanny's number, and I was determined to be a positive presence in their lives.
I wouldn't fail them like my own family, neighbors, and relatives had failed me.
Meetsi walked me out. "Thank you for visiting," he said. "They need people like you in their lives."
I smiled, knowing our friendship had just begun.
---
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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