Free Kwaito Love by Lauri Kubbuitsile

too loud, and knew why Marika and Ishmael were looking at her so strangely. “Sorry . . . I just . . . What aftershave is that, Ishmael?”
    She knew it was Thabang’s. She would never forget it. Just the whiff she got from this distance was enough to pull her back into a whirlwind of Thabang emotions.
    â€œAftershave?” Marika asked. “Are you okay, Mpho?”
    â€œYou like it? I splurged when I got my promotion. It’s some French stuff called Givenchy Pi Neo. Seriously expensive.”
    Mpho was floating, lost in her memories. She hadn’t seen Thabang for days and thought that maybe she was over him and would be okay now. But with one whiff she knew she wasn’t and maybe never would be.
    * * *
    Saturday afternoons at Monate Takeaways were boring. They had few customers. Everybody had gone home already. Mpho and Marika quietly washed down counters and cleaned out fridges. Both were busy with their thoughts. Mpho worried that her fashion career was headed for disaster. Marika wondered how red her father’s face would get when she told him she planned to marry Ishmael. Anyone listening to their intermittent conversation would think they were crazy.
    â€œI won’t go home, even if he wants me to.”
    â€œI can’t change my designs now; it’s too late.”
    â€œThey’ll love him; they have to.”
    â€œIf I fail, I fail – but I’m sticking to my ideas.”
    Mr Habib came from the back office. “Shall I give you girls a lift when we knock off?”
    â€œA lift? Why?” Mpho asked, pulled from her thoughts.
    â€œTo my house. You remember tonight is Mrs Habib’s party. I invited you weeks ago. I hope you didn’t make other plans. Mrs Habib will be so disappointed.”
    Marika quickly chipped in, “No, of course we didn’t forget. Yes, we’d appreciate a lift from you.”
    Mr Habib smiled, relieved. “Today I am sixty years old, which is a long time to have lived. One must celebrate such an achievement.”
    Mpho smiled at her boss. “It certainly is a milestone, Mr Habib.”
    Mpho and Marika rushed to the women’s rest rooms to get ready. “God, I can’t believe we forgot all about Mr Habib’s party!” Marika said while trying to wash herself in the basin.
    â€œThere’s just been too much going on. I’ve had school and Thabang, and you’ve been thinking about your parents and Ishmael. To be honest, though, I could use the distraction. I’m going nuts with uncertainty about the show.”
    Marika pulled on the trousers she’d bought when Mpho took her shopping. “And your doubts about Thabang.”
    â€œI have no uncertainty about him,” Mpho said, annoyed. “I am through with that man. Full stop. End of discussion.”
    Marika was leaning forward over the basin to get a better look at where the mascara she was applying was actually ending up. She looked in the mirror at her friend behind her. “Well, that’s what you say but honestly, I don’t buy it.”
    Mpho quickly put on lipstick and then picked up her bag to go. “Doesn’t matter what you buy or not; I know the truth. My fling with Thabang Modise has come to an end.”
    * * *
    The party had already started when they arrived. Mpho was glad Marika had worn her new clothes that afternoon when she came to work. The transformation was incredible. Mpho really did know something about fashion, no matter what Ms Bennet said.
    The two friends were surprised when they saw all the guests who came to wish Mr Habib a happy birthday. In South Africa where the different races were still learning to come together, Mr Habib’s tidy little house on the edge of Soweto reflected a true rainbow nation. He had friends from all racial groups and ages and they filled the entire house, pouring out into the back patio and the colourful garden.
    Marika and Mpho got drinks and moved