Hunger Eats a Man by Nkosinathi Sithole Read Free Book Online

reroofing his house with tiles, something he correctly believed would have made him a force to be reckoned with, not only in Hunger-Eats-a-Man, but in the whole of Gxumani. But his dream did not come true because of the retrenchment. He came to realise there were many sacrifices he had to perform for his ancestors with the small amount of money that made up his retrenchment package. In the first three years after his retrenchment, Sithole slaughtered a goat every month and four cows a year on average. This made him a renowned and respected man in Ndlalidlindoda. Some young men, whom MaXulu detested with all her heart and called good-for-nothing trash, were so full of respect and admiration for Sithole that one of them, Kitoto, even seriously contemplated changing his surname to Sithole, something that gratified Sithole as much as it aggravated his wife.
    There is also a rondavel in Sithole’s homestead. It is neat and good-looking in spite of its age. It is only the thatching, which is eroded and black, that testifies to the fact that the rondavel has occupied the same space for more than fifteen years. It is also plastered and painted like the house. But the colour is white. MaXulu suggested it would make sense to paint it creamy white too, but Sithole insisted on a pure white colour because it symbolises good luck. In this view, he was supported by his ancestors, who visited him in a dream and told him that their house must be painted in white.
    The rondavel is the most significant building in Sithole’s homestead, according to him, at least. It is used solely for communication withthe ancestors and for performing sacrifices to them. Sithole is one of the few men MaXulu knows who love and trust their dead relatives so much that they pray to them on a daily basis. Every evening, round about six, Sithole retreats to the rondavel, where he burns incense and talks to his ancestors about anything. “As if they care,” MaXulu usually says to herself. It is only when Sithole makes sacrifices in the form of goats and cows, and when he thinks the subject he wants to consult his ancestors about is of particular importance, that he calls MaXulu and the children to be present and pay respect. This angers MaXulu, who sees no point in sitting there listening to someone talking to the wall.
    The fact that Sithole does not want to go to the farm and try his luck like other men annoys MaXulu a great deal. She cannot even imagine some invisible spirits watching over them and making plans to better their lives by offering Sithole a job of his dreams, whatever that is. No. That is not going to happen, and Sithole knows it.
    “Why didn’t they do that in the last six years that you have been without a job?” As much as MaXulu respects and fears her husband, she just cannot keep quiet about this. “No, Sithole. Just say you are afraid of hard work at the farm. You got spoiled when you worked sitting down when you were a driver at Putco.”
    MaXulu is in a state of quandary. A part of her wants to threaten Sithole that if he does not go to seek work at the farm, she will. This she can say in spite of having been involved in a car accident that left her spine so fragile that she cannot do hard work. But now she knows her husband will gladly let her go. This thought increases her suspicion that her husband is afraid of hard work.
    Thinking of hard work, why is it that men of today are so weak and lazy? MaXulu doesn’t know. But she knows there was a time when men were men. When men were not afraid of sweating. She recalls, with great veneration, that her own father had resigned from his job when he was promoted – which sounded to him like a demotion – to work as a clerk in the office, instead of pushing wheelbarrows fullof concrete and cement outdoors. He told his employers that he was unwilling to do such a feminine job, that he would rather go to seek work somewhere else. Some place where they would not insult him by giving him a job