THE INCARCERATED STRANGER

 

Chapter 4

 

RILEY

As she arrives at the prison, she parks her car and heads towards the building. The prison warden, who has been waiting for her, escorts her to the same room where she last met Mr. Mazibuko. She can't help but notice the warden's familiarity with her and wonders if he's close to Mr. Mazibuko.

"Would you like me to bring you something to drink, ma'am?" the warden asks.

She shakes her head. “No, I'm fine. I have a bottle of water with me.”

The warden nods and exits the room, leaving her alone. She takes a deep breath, feeling somewhat at ease on the small couch, and gazes around the cozy, elegantly decorated room. Her eyes wander, taking in the private, intimate space.

She gets up and walks to the window, staring outside as she waits for Mr. Mazibuko. A few minutes pass, and then the door opens. She closes her eyes, her senses heightened as his distinctive scent wafts in, announcing his presence.

She opens her eyes and turns around to find him standing tall, wearing his orange prison uniform. His beard is trimmed, and his hair has a fresh cut with waves,today…

 "Please, have a seat, so we can begin," she says, moving to her couch and sitting down. He takes his seat, looking at her. 

"I've reviewed the file from our last meeting," she says. He nods, his gaze still fixed on her. "Upon reviewing the file, I noticed  some information seems to be missing. Mr. Mazibuko, what is the reason for your incarceration?" she asks, looking him in the eye. He sighs before speaking. 

"I'm convicted of homicide." She swallows, surprised by his directness.

 "Can you elaborate?" she asks.

 "I was forced to follow orders from individuals who kidnapped my younger brother," he explains. "

They demand I kill a police officer who was hindering their operations. I had no idea I was being framed at the time." She listens intently. 

"Couldn't  you involve the police or deceive those individuals?" she asks. "I chose not to," he replies. 

"What about the lawyers who withdrew from your case? Why do they refuse to represent you?" she asks. 

"I had a lawyer I trusted to represent me, but unfortunately, they didn't remain loyal," he says.She nods, listening intently.

"Two other lawyers withdrew from my case as well. Following false accusations, I was sentenced to three years. Since then, I've struggled to find a reliable lawyer until a source recommended you," he continues.

"I see," she says. “What were the allegations against you?”

"They claimed I was involved in fraud, drug dealing, and human trafficking," he replies calmly. She studies him, noting his composure.

"The evidence was convincing enough for the magistrate to sentence you to three years," she states.

He chuckles. “Money holds significant influence, and it can buy almost anything or anyone.”

She raises an eyebrow. "Why didn't you use your resources to secure your release?"According to her file, he has substantial wealth.

He leans back, a hint of amusement on his face. “Sometimes, Miss Qwane, it's strategic to appear vulnerable to your adversaries.”

She jotts down a few notes in her notebook, acutely aware of his gaze upon her. Though she felt his eyes, she remained silent, focusing on her writing until she finished. Only then did she lift her head, and her eyes met his.

"Why don't you say whatever you want to say or ask, Mangaliso?" she queries , surprised by her own informality in using his first name instead of the formal ‘ Mr. Mazibuko.’

Mangaliso's eyebrows rose, amused by her sudden familiarity. "You're not going to pull out on me too, are you?" he asks ,She smirks . “Why? Are you scared I might pull out like the other lawyers?”

Mangaliso sighs "Well...",he shruggs his shoulders

 , Her voice dripping with mischief,she says , “It will depend, Mangaliso.”

"Depend on what, Miss Qwane?" he inquires.

Her smirk deepens. “On how much the people who paid the lawyers who discarded you are willing to offer me.”

Mangaliso's brow shot up, his expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

"Okay," he says.

She shakes her head, smiling inwardly. She's just pulling his leg. In her wildest dreams, she'd never allow herself to be bribed. She loves her work and respects herself too much.

"You disappeared for a while," Mangaliso says. “You didn't answer my calls for two full weeks.”

"I'm not your wife, Mangaliso, to warrant daily check-ins," she replies with a chuckle. “I'm a lawyer, and I have clients who need my attention.”

"But I'm also your client," Mangaliso counters. “Don't I deserve your attention too?”

"Of course, you're my client," she affirms. “But you're not my only client. I have many, and each deserves my time. My work involves attending to clients and representing them in court. That's how I work. When you leave 30 missed calls in a day, what am I supposed to think?”

"He says, “Well, answering and saying you're busy wouldn't have bitten you, would it?”

She looks at him, incredulous. Xaba uphambene lona or akaphilanga kahle entloko? ,What's wrong with him,he must be crazy., or are he is not okay upstairs.

"Andiyo close friend yakho mna, (You're not my close friend) she continues, “who can answer their phone when you call, even when they're at work. When I'm busy, I don't have time to answer calls.”

He scoffs, “Then you should put it on flight mode, so it doesn't ring at all.”

She raises an eyebrow. "Iphone yethu nah lena?" (Is this phone ours?) "Because there's no way you're telling me kubah ndenzeni ngayo." (what I should do with it)",he doesn't say anything .

 "Mamela apha, listen here,"she says, her tone teasing yet firm, as she slides an envelope across the desk. “Take this and read it. It’s about my payments and how I charge.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he picks up the envelope. "For today, we are done," she continues, her voice laced with mock seriousness. "I hope you don't have any questions you want to ask to avoid calling me non-stop like I owe you millions." Her laughter bubbles up, brightening the room as he shakes his head, amusement clear in his eyes.

"Are you always like this?" he asks, leaning back in his chair, studying her with a mixture of admiration and exasperation.

She rolls her eyes dramatically, a grin breaking through her mock annoyance. "Don’t call me; I will call you," she says, grabbing her work bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Next time, I might come with the news of when you'll need to start preparing yourself to appear in court.”

With that, she turns on her heel and saunters out of the room, leaving him chuckling to himself, the warmth of their banter lingering in the air long after she has gone…

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MANGALISO

He looks at the envelope she gave him, a smile still plastered on his face. He shakes his head, lost in thought, when the door to the small room opens and someone walks in—he doesn’t even notice.

“Don’t tell me that woman who just walked out is the reason you’re smiling like that,” Nkalipho says, stepping into the room and catching sight of his friend.

“What woman are you talking about?” he replies, pretending to act dumb. 

Nkalipho bursts into laughter, shaking his head at the playful act.

“How are you, man?” Nkalipho asks as they fist pump and share a quick bro hug.

“I’m good, Bafo. How are you?” he replies, settling into his seat.

“I’m okay,” Nkalipho responds, matching his friend’s relaxed vibe as they both take a seat.

“U Sase kahle laphakathi?” Nkalipho asks, checking in on how he’s holding up in this place.

“I’m doing just fine, Bafo. I’ve just had enough; I’ve overstayed my visit here,” he admits, a hint of frustration in his voice. Nkalipho chuckles at the remark.

“You would’ve been out of here long ago if you just bought your way out,” he teases, shaking his head with a grin.

“I told you why I had to stay here,” he replies, and Nkalipho nods in understanding, the camaraderie between them palpable.

“So, that woman—who is she?” Nkalipho asks with a mischievous smile, chuckling as he knows his friend won’t resist asking again.

“That’s the new lawyer,” he replies, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Woah, the lawyer Ghost referred you to? You know I didn’t pay much attention when he mentioned getting a new lawyer,” Nkalipho says, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yeah, same here, but he did.”

“How is she so far? Uyamthemba?” Nkalipho asks, checking if he trusts her.

“For now, I haven’t seen any reason not to trust her. So yeah, ngiyamthemba Bafo,” he responds confidently. Nkalipho nods; if his friend trusts this lawyer woman, then he trusts her too.

“Let’s just hope she won’t pull out and get bribed like the bastards of the previous lawyers,” Nkalipho says, chuckling as he shares in that hope.

“How is my family doing?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“They’re doing fine. Your brother is taking it one step at a time and still attending therapy sessions,” Nkalipho fills him in. He nods, relieved that his little brother has been sticking to the therapy like he suggested. It’s a small comfort, especially after everything he endured during that terrible time.

Thinking about his brother’s that time he was taken by those bastards   makes him angry; the memory of the torture is still fresh, and it infuriates him that those responsible are still out there, living freely. But then, a flicker of hope ignites within him. He will be out of idanyana (jail) soon, and they won’t believe it! The thought brings a smile to his face, even amidst the anger.

They continue chatting and catching up, laughter filling the small space as Nkalipho shares stories about how their businesses are running smoothly. Even though he already knew that, it’s nice to hear the details from his friend, feeling a sense of pride for him.

After a while, they decide to play a game of chess. It feels like they’re just two friends enjoying a normal day. The tension of the game keeps them both engaged, and for a moment, he forget where he is.Eventually, as the sun begins to dip low in the sky, Nkalipho gets ready to leave.

 “I’ll catch you some other time, Bafo,” he says with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder before heading out.

Once alone, he heads back to his cell. A shower is what he needs; he doesn’t feel like hitting the gym today. As he steps under the warm water, he lets out a sigh of relief. He’s glad Miss Qwane came today; he was starting to think she’d never return.…

Steam still clung to the air as he stepped out of the shower, droplets cascading down his skin. He reached for a fluffy towel, rubbing it vigorously over his body, the fabric absorbing the warmth and moisture. Once dry, he tossed the towel aside and padded across the cool floor to his cell room.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room, creating a cozy atmosphere. He slipped under the covers, feeling the cool sheets against his skin, a stark contrast to the lingering heat from the shower. As he lay there, he stared at the ceiling, tracing patterns in his mind as he waited for sleep to creep in. The rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the silence, each exhale releasing the tension of the day. Thoughts danced in his head—until they began to blur, like watercolor on a canvas. Gradually, he felt himself sinking deeper into the mattress, his eyelids growing heavier as sleep's gentle embrace wrapped around him.

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