When tomorrow comes

Short Story by Dedani Nkala
AT 32 she was still single.
Although she was probably just an ordinary-looking woman, she was blessed with a kind heart. She had the brains too. Her structure was that of a Coca-Cola bottle. Indeed, an all-in-one rare combination!
Her voice was peach fur silky and did sound like fine-tuned musical instruments playing in harmony. And yes, she did sing in the church choir. When she walked she seemed to float as though she was strolling on eggs. Her body was well-curved and segmented like a bumblebee. She had the beauty armour of an angel. She stood out even in a crowd.

In fact, her presence always had heads turning. That did not go down well with most church women; Makanaka was a threat to their marriages.

Anyway, most of her agemates had had one or two bulges under their maternity dresses and got to look as though they had celebrated more Christmases than her. No wonder most of them always felt bile in their mouth every time she was in church.

Unlike her peers who had turned marriages to mean the number of carats on their wedding fingers, Makanaka was waiting for the right moment. Marriage was no competition, but a search for a soul mate. She awaited tomorrow. She wanted someone who was going to make her swallow the hook, line and the sinker, and still be in a position to make her glow from inside. Perhaps that was the reason why she was still single at 32. Maybe . . .

It seems like it was the elderly women of the church that really adored her. It was their wish that their sons and even grandsons could open up their eyes and set their hearts on Makanaka. Most of them silently prayed for that special day she would walk down the aisle as their daughter-in-law. Were these wishful thoughts?

Well, Makanaka was brought up in a loving and religious family. Her parents were church elders at Mariyawanda Ministries, and from birth she had been instilled with God and self-respect. From a tender age she had been taught that being a woman did not mean just procreation, but womanhood came with its responsibilities, jostled and shoved on a woman’s shoulder to take care of another human being. Thus, at 20, she enrolled at a nursing school and three years later she earned herself a professional diploma in nursing.

On her graduation day, her mother was on cloud nine. She said to her, “My girl, you’ve made me very proud,” she was smiling politely. “I can’t wait to hear the clamouring bells of your wedding.”

“It’s not anytime soon, mama,” she cried in exasperation. “I’m still waiting for the perfect match. I will await my Mr Right.”

“Is there anything like that, my girl?” she inquired rhetorically. “Men are not knights dressed in blazing armour and would just pop out from a fairy tale and ask you to marry them. That happens in the movies and novels, honey. A woman makes a man. You’ve got to live in a real world.”

Makanaka chuckled and flashed pearls of teeth. “I’m sure they must be a knight out there who will sweep me off my feet, mother. Don’t stress, tomorrow will come.”

“What if tomorrow never comes?” her mother managed to get her words out. “You must not wait long. You’re not getting any younger, my girl. And, yes, your biological clock is also ticking.”

“That will be an unfortunate conjunction of circumstances,” Makanaka told her mother. “But I do believe in perfect matches. When tomorrow comes, you’ll be the first to know, mum.”

Her mother had every reason to say so. Deep down in her heart something was chewing her to the bone. A skeleton was buried away in some closet. But she was hoping that the mystery remained unearthed. And like the sand through the hour glass, so were the days of the secret — numbered. The time was coming, for nothing lasts forever, tomorrow was fast approaching. The truth had to find a way out — and it always does. The million dollar question was: Would her gorgeous little girl remain single forever? One day she would have to be married to someone . . . and that thought tormented her day and night. All she hoped for was the right man for her daughter! Yes, the “right man”.

On completion of her studies, Makanaka informed her family that she was relocating to the city. That tore her mother apart.

“City life is not easy for single women,” her mother tried to convince her. “You’ll need a man to take care of you. We have heard so much about city life; strange stories of women turning to prostitution to make ends meet. Besides,” she was hesitant for a while, “I am getting old and I wish to have grandchildren from you, my love.”

Despite her mother’s disapproval, Makanaka moved to the city. Though her stay in the city was no stroll in the park — and her mother’s words kept ringing in her head, she was able to pay her rentals, feed herself and dress up decently.

And every Sunday she was able to attend the church services. She had not permitted the lure of the city bells and massive lights derail her from what she had always believed in.

On the other hand, the elderly women continued to pray for her. Amongst them was the prophet’s wife — Prophetess Mariyawanda — who had instantly loved her. She loved Makanaka for her down-to-earth personality and kind heart.

The prophetess was a mother of three. Her two daughters were already married to fine young men. The burden was her only son, Farai, who was still searching for a mate. He was a medical doctor in a neighbouring country. However, her prayers got answered one Christmas when he came for the family get-together party. He took note of Makanaka, and started spending time with her. His heart was on her and she never made him doubt that she felt the same way.

A couple of months later, Farai broke out, “Makanaka.” Then he said to her in the sweetest melody she ever heard, “I have no doubt in my heart that you’re the very woman that I’ve been waiting for all my life. And there’s nothing more I can ask for than ask you to be my beloved wife, and be the mother to my children.”

Her voice was a husky murmur. “Oh, my God,” she cried out. “You’re the best thing that ever happened in my life. Yes, yes, I will marry you, Farai Mariyawanda.”

“Then all is set,” Farai told her. “I need to meet my future in-laws.”
That evening, it didn’t rain, but it poured. Lightning and thunder were the order of the day. The heavens grumbled and the earth rumbled. Even nature bowed down to the rains.

Makanaka’s mother visited her daughter and asked if she could discuss some issues in privacy. They sat on a couch. She surprised her saying she wasn’t expecting her to understand what she was about to reveal to her.

“I have never seen you this happy,” she held her breath and continued, “but, Makanaka; you can’t marry the prophet’s son.”

“Can’t?” Her heart gave a lurch. “What do you mean, mother, I can’t?”
“Farai . . .” she seemed lost for a while, “. . . how do I say this?” she cupped her daughter’s hands into hers.
“You better start saying something, mother!”

“He is your brother,” she managed to say with a click in her throat.
“Surely this can’t be happening to me! How on earth is he my brother?” Like quick silver, she withdrew her hands and rose to her rather jelly feet. Adrenaline flooded her entire body and crippled her. Burning tears filled her eyes.

On the other end, her mother was sobbing. “A long time ago when I got married to your father,” she said in a whisper; never meeting her daughter’s eyes, “I failed to conceive . . . I couldn’t fall pregnant. Then I joined the church. I had the hope that the church would be an answer to my prayers. Unbeknown to me, I had to become a victim of deception. I had to sleep with Prophet Mariyawanda . . . and . . . and . . . the escapade resulted in you. Please do find it in your heart to forgive me and . . . ”

Makanaka screamed her lungs out, “What? Oh, my . . . I am carrying his child, woman! Why, for Christ’s sake?” She felt her world spin in circles, and suddenly her feet gave in and she fell down like Humpty Dumpty . . .