Short Story : Getting to know the other family

GETTING TO KNOW THE OTHER FAMILY

My Mother saw it wise to ask her friend whom she hadn’t seen for years to stay with me. After all, l had failed to attain accommodation at school and hence staying with her friend, a lecturer at the University of  Zimbabwe seemed very appropriate. I was excited to meet her and any of her family members. Having been raised from a very strict, well mannered and hard working  family myself, l was 100% sure l would fit in perfectly. Little did l know that my worst nightmares were soon to come. Nonetheless, before we get into that, let me explain a few things about myself. I am a conserved person, who likes her life quite and simple. I do my best at school and enjoy my sleep. I hate rude lazy people and loud mouths. I like order you know. Scattered things drive me insane. Above all l hate being treated like a no-body. There, that’s a bit about me. Now back to my story.

Where were we?. Oh yeah now l remember. The friend, who fondly called herself by her maiden surname Ms Chateya, after many failed marriages, brought me into her house and made it very clear on the first day that she wanted a cook, a laundry washer, cleaner, baby sitter- basically a house maid out of me. I could not have argued there and there with her for l was desperate for a place to stay since all my relatives lived far-away. More so, l had arrived in the evening and feeling sleepy l had ignored most of her demands. Since she had presented her demands in a roundabout manner, l assumed that she was joking. So I had just nodded in agreement as a way of shutting her up. The way she kept insisting on me cooking and cleaning made me realize that l was about to stay with the laziest woman l had ever seen. Yet.

The next day, to my surprise. l realized that she was staying with one of her sons. I had not seen him the previous evening when l arrived nor had she spoken of him. He was the last born out of the four older ones. All five of her kids had different fathers. Talk of trying her luck with Cupid. The young man, slightly younger than me, Peter, did not greet me when he first saw me. He ignored me. Even when l greeted him. I mean, how rude can someone be!. Anyway, as l started to cook and clean he started warming up to me. That’s when l realized that he and his Mother where so lazy they had almost starved each other to death. Soon indeed, l was the total 360 degrees housemaid. The woman and her son were professional room messers. Everything they touched always turned into a filthy mess. To add on to my cleaning after them, l had to help pay for the house bills, grocery, satellite dish, car fuel and Peter’s bus fare to school. Each morning became ‘’a give Peter money’’ morning. The woman was slowly pushing me.

It didn’t take me long to realize that Peter was a total failure. A couch potato, who spend his entire time on his X-Box. He was an ‘’A level’’ student without any form 4.  He had collected Us only in his form 4. Out of embarrassment, and not wanting to be behind his friends, he skipped himself to an ‘’ A’’ Level class. Where he arrogantly, and with no direction, or any sense of responsibility, did Commercials. It’s a private, greedy college which he attends by the way. He only went to the college to see his girlfriend. Shame. Poor girl magnetic to a loser. 

When he went out, he came late or early in the morning. Drank like a fish, and had his Mother’s phone filled with pornographic videos. Aaaaaaghhhh….l deleted them when l saw them. I could have sworn that the Mother also watched those videos and pretended to be a Christian. Be that as it may, none had the audacity to confront me about it.  However, one thing that really irritated me was the fact that no-one could watch TV as long as Peter was playing his games. Seriously, what’s a girl to do without her daily dose of lsidingo, Generations and Muvhango, not to talk of X- Factor?. Even the Mother couldn’t control him as he always insulted her. More like intimidated a more than willing victim. At one time he rented out her huge flat screen and before she could confront him. He had insulted and bullied her into silence. I felt sorry for her. She was totally incapable of thinking for herself. Her major weakness was always asking for permission from her son to do anything. On my part, her major annoyance was demanding that l listen to her stories about her day even in the middle of the night. I mean lm a quiet person for heaven’s sake!. I like my life peaceful !!!.

Now lm not saying that talking is wrong but this woman was a chatter box fully charged. If l tried to go to sleep she would hit my legs as she talked. Or …walked about the room the whole night. Throwing books, smashing the bedroom door, rearranging her books, rearranging pots in a very loud manner. Now as a student who came every night tired. I felt really tormented that at one point l cried in my sleep. So l decided to sleep in the dining room, again she followed. This time she would pretend that l was listening and talk endlessly, whilst adding more and more volume on the TV. She was mad. And her madness was slowly driving me mad. I tried to talk to her into keeping the volume low and she bitched me and told me it was her house. Oh… okay. So l told the son who was more than willing to show her that he was in charge. So Ms Chateya’s bedroom movements lessened. Thank heavens.

One evening she started complaining about people not giving money to her second from last son, Tinashe who wanted to come to Harare from Mutare, but he didn’t have money. She asked me for money but l denied having any. Which wasn’t a lie since she had drained me dry of all my school fees money. Besides she was the one who had a job and should have never asked me for money. Heartless woman. I also thought that the son she was busy crying about was still young, maybe in his very early twenties. I was shocked to see a 29year old man, enter the house claiming to be her son the following afternoon. I was vexed. A Mamma’s boy had arrived. 

The house now had 3 official mad people. And they all piled their madness, not on each other, but ME. Tinashe was very irritating. He talked like a parrot and chattered like a monkey non-stop. A replica of his Mother. He drove me mad. He commented on everything from the weather, to politics, to the economy and to very irrelevant issues. Issues that had nothing to do with the price of rice in China!.  An absolute know it all. Even in the evening’s l couldn’t study because his beak of a mouth refused to stay shut. He would even follow me to the bedroom where l would be trying to change to go to school, demanding that l listen to him. One day l got angry and told him to ‘’GET OUT!”.

His Mother on the other hand was piling her clothes in the washing basket, hoping l would wash them. Alas, l refused and pretended like l wasn’t seeing the full basket.  The other young man remained lazy, dirty and disrespectful. Only his looks saved his thousand times folded fore head.

Peter and Tinashe were brothers due to a biological and geographical error. They hardly ever talked.  Tinashe seemed to be afraid of Peter as he always put himself below his young brother each time they talked. One day Ms Chateya decided to fumigate the house. It had so many cockroaches everywhere. Since the house had been harboring people who had never heard of the word cleaning, cockroaches had biblically multiplied. Tinashe offered to do it after his trip to town but she was very impatient and she did it herself. Without any nose protection, any old unwanted clothes on, without gloves or any protection. She sprayed the kitchen. I mean how stupid can someone be?. To make matters worse she stayed in the kitchen after spraying it. She started coughing hard, eyes now red and saliva pouring out of her mouth. I rushed down stairs to Peter who was sleeping in the car and told him to come help her. He said matter of fact that he had warned her about it and she can die for all he cares. What?!!!.

I had never known such a confused and uncaring family. I ran back and pulled her out of the kitchen and gave her milk. That same day l went to school and started searching for accommodation. Luckily a foreign girl had fallen sick and l was able to move in to her room. Leaving that house was a dream come true. At least l had learnt something, which is to raise my sons better. To be confident in myself, thankful of my education and to remain hardworking.

Writen by Amanda Ranganawa