Hunger Eats a Man by Nkosinathi Sithole Read Free Book Online Page A

fit for the womenfolk. The employers begged him in vain, telling him that they wanted him to have the job because he was the only educated man out of all the employees because he had Standard Two.
    “MaXulu, pleeease!” Sithole says reproachfully whenever they discuss this matter, something they do quite often these days thanks to his wife. This topic makes him feel emotional. It is as if they never talk about anything else any more.
    “Except,” it’s MaXulu’s defiance, “except when we talk about your ancestors and the sacrifices they selfishly demand from us when they know that we are starving and they can do nothing about it.”
    “MaXulu, pleeeease!” The anger in Sithole is brewing. It’s one thing to say he should go to look for work at the farm, but it is absolutely something else when someone, whoever she is, talks like that about his ancestors. “MaXulu. Please. Don’t start again. If you as much as say another word about this …” What will happen is too much even for his mouth to pronounce.
    MaXulu obeys. But the anger inside her is unbearable. This is their only chance to get something and Sithole refuses to take it? Just because he believes some evil spirits will give him a better job? Shit! Why did she marry such a hopeless man?
    As the conflicting thoughts run through her mind, Sithole is watching her mouth while it moves about without articulating any sound. She is darker now, a sign that she is really upset. Sithole is touched by his wife’s state and wants to console her. Only he does not know how. He was brought up to be a strong Zulu man. Being passionate and caring is a weakness, according to his standards. And it is weak men whose wives haul them by their noses, weak men who care about the feelings of their wives. But now things are bad and even he wants to be kind to his wife.
    “Please, my wife, don’t be stubborn.” He is doing his best. “I always tell you that the ancestors expect us to give, and in return they will give us even more.” He looks at his wife, not knowing if the words fulfil his purpose or not. But soon his old self takes over, “I wonder how you even reached Standard Five with that stone-head of yours. A relationship with the ancestors is a give and take. We give and they take, and they give and we take. Just listen to the sound of that! I should have been a poet.” He laughs heartily and looks for at least a smile on his wife’s face. He only sees anger and disbelief.
    Then his wife says, “But we have done nothing but give. Every time we slaughter goats and cattle in this house … We keep on giving but when it is time to take, we have to give more.”
    “Hmn!” Sithole starts, feeling pity for his wife. “It is clear that you know nothing about these things, MaXulu. But what can one expect from someone who grew up as a Watch Tower, saying our ancestors are demons.”
    “To tell the truth,” MaXulu forgets herself and talks back, “I never actually believed that they are demons. But I’m beginning to now.”
    “You see?” Sithole almost jumps. “How can we ever have anything if you talk like that about my ancestors? Hhe? Don’t you know that they hear us?” Sithole is shouting now. His wife’s crazy talk may cause him to slaughter a goat, begging for forgiveness.
    MaXulu has her own feelings on this, “No. No. No. Sithole! This is just not working.”
    Sithole feels like there is a deep void inside him. “As I am telling you, things will be better now. Remember that we have been slaughtering these goats and cattle in a vacuum because my great-grandfather’s brother (may his soul burn in hell) turned our ancestors against us by stirring the wrong concoctions.”
    “You know what?” – it’s still the new MaXulu – “I hate hearing that. I just hate it.”
    Sithole ignores her and goes on, “But Zwane has rectified all that now. I only need to make the last sacrifice to my great-grandfatherwith a cow and you will see how rich we will