The return of Tsano Tibukayi

By Onie Ndoro | 21h ago

He arrived with just a red shangani bag containing just a few of his belongings. Besides that, he had nothing else. He had spent the last eleven years in South Africa.

When I came back from work, the biggest surprise awaited me. Tsano Tibukayi had come back. He was my brother-in-law, and was Mai VaMaidei’s youngest brother in a family of six, four boys and two girls.

He arrived with just a red shangani bag containing just a few of his belongings. Besides that, he had nothing else. He had spent the last eleven years in South Africa. Tsano Tibukayi lived in Hillbrow and for the last four years, he had cut all communication with all family members. He only pitched up like a ghost that day on our doorstep.

At one time, there were even rumours that he was dead.

Later after supper, when we had retreated to the bedroom, Mai VaMaidei said, “God has answered our prayers, I am happy my brother is back home.”

It was quite a surprise that he was alive. The last two years had not been easy for the family. There was no word from him. All the news we heard about him spelt doom.

“Did he say anything, like what he was doing, was he working?” I said.

“He has not said much, but just that he was doing odd jobs here and there,” Mai VaMaidei said.

“What has he brought home? I just saw his shangani bag,” I said.

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“He doesn’t have any money. He told me he was living rough. He worked for a poor Afrikaner farmer who did not even pay him. He ran away and lived in the streets in Hillbrow,” Mai VaMaidei said.

I shook my head from side to side. Tsano Tibukayi had nothing to his name for all the years he lived in South Africa.

The next day, I took Tsano Tibukayi to Zororo Bar. He was not comfortable in my presence but I noticed that each time I moved away, he would laugh together with Rasta and Fatso.

Two days later, Tsano Tibukayi vanished. He left a note. He went back to South Africa and stated that we should not worry about him.

Mai VaMaidei was devastated. She was sitting on the kitchen floor and beside her was a basket full of red tomatoes.

There was nothing to be done. Tsano Tibukayi had gone.

*What if something terrible happens to him this time?”

Mai VaMaidei said. She had a deep frown on her face.

I wanted to tell her that most of the guys who had lived in South Africa for so long would never settle down back home. And if success evaded them, they were too shy to return home. Tsano Tibukayi was now a wanderer in foreign lands.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a grown-up man. I hope he knows what he’s doing,” I said.

I saw some tears running down her cheeks as she tried to wipe the tears surreptitiously.

“He’s not dead, he’ll come back,” I said reassuringly.

“What if he mixes up with wrong people? Hillbrow is a dangerous place, I’ve heard that people get stabbed even in their homes,” Mai VaMaidei said.

“He knows what he’s doing. He’ll come back,” I said.

I could not even tell her that Hillbrow had one of the highest murder rates in South Africa. The whole area was infested with all kind of vice and drug peddlars. Tsano Tibukayi needed all the lucky to survive.

Five years ago, we buried Uncle Jones. He had lived fifty-four years in Mpumalanga, yet he died a lonely and broken man, estranged from most of the family. On his deathbed, his only request was to be buried in his homeland. The day he finally returned was the same day he quietly passed away, alone and at peace. Though a stranger to most of us, we still gave him a decent burial. If Tsano Tibukayi wasn’t careful, he might end up just like Uncle Jones — lonely and forgotten.

*Onie Ndoro

X@Onie90396982

oniendoroh@gmail.com