Free Kwaito Love by Lauri Kubbuitsile Page B

about his success with Mmino Productions, but it was more than that. There was a commanding presence about him up there. He was in control: a silent, gentle authority immediately respected by everyone.
    Mpho shifted back a bit so that she was hidden slightly by the hibiscus bush next to her. She didn’t think Thabang had seen her, at least she hoped not. She didn’t need this today. After Ms Bennet’s attack on her designs she was feeling vulnerable. She was tired and stressed, not at all sure she could handle another interaction with Thabang. Why couldn’t he just move away to Cape Town or overseas? She needed serious distance from him to get over everything. This constant contact was not working. Every time she saw the man, all her efforts to get over him melted away.
    â€œGood evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Thabang Modise.” A few people laughed. Everyone knew who he was. “I used to work for Mr Habib at Monate Takeaways. Thanks to him, I now own a successful business. It’s not common for someone to help another person in these times. Everyone is looking out for themselves only. When I met Mr Habib, I was just a skinny teenager from a poor family, struggling with my mother to get food to eat and keep a roof over our heads. But Mr Habib saw something else. He listened to my dream and he saw me there. And then he showed me how I could also see myself there. And as if that wasn’t enough, he gave me money to make that dream come true. I consider Morena Habib a friend, a mentor and, probably more importantly, a father. Happy birthday, Tate! Happy birthday!”
    Everybody raised their glasses to Mr Habib and when Mpho looked in her boss’s direction she could see tears pouring down his cheeks even though he was smiling broadly. The music started again and people began to dance.
    â€œThabang is lovely,” Marika said.
    â€œPlease don’t say that. I can’t bear for him to be lovely today.” Mpho quickly finished the last of her punch.
    â€œLet me go and get us some more.” Marika reached forward, taking their empty plates and glasses.
    â€œBring me the spiked punch this time,” Mpho said.
    â€œSo, has it come to that, then?” Marika asked jokingly.
    Mpho smiled. “I guess it has.”
    She sat watching the crowd of people dancing to Brenda Fassie’s Weekend Special . Mpho smiled, thinking about all the times Jakes and Thabang’s band had played that song. No matter what crowd, everyone loved that song. She was lost in her memories and smelled the warning of his aftershave only seconds before he sat down next to her on the bench. “So, are you enjoying yourself?”
    Mpho looked around. Where was Marika with that punch? The conditions had changed. It had now become an emergency – she needed the bolstering of a bit of alcohol and the distraction of another person. “Yes, I am,” she just barely managed.
    â€œI didn’t know you’d be here. I saw Marika inside. She told me where to find you. Here you go.” He handed her a glass of punch.
    Traitor, Mpho thought. She would sort the meddling Marika out later! She downed half the glass and closed her eyes, trying to breathe in the cool night air and calm her jittery nerves. Please, please, please behave, she told her body which was getting out of control being so close to Thabang.
    Before she could settle her body or thoughts, Thabang took her hand in his. “Mpho, I’m so glad I ran into you . . . I so wanted to see you.”
    No, no, no, Mpho repeated in her head. She didn’t want this. She did not want Thabang Modise in her life. No, no, no. But why was her stomach jumping? Why did she feel a surge of happiness just having him near? Why did she wish he’d hold her hand forever? But still she tried to line up the forces against him. She tried to list all of the evidence that said he was wrong for her, that he was a bad guy:
    1. He was a