One chilly Sunday afternoon. An old Corolla pulled down a homeless ridden street in downtown Johannesburg. Crouched over the wheel was Nobuhle Phumlani, an intense black lady with fine figure and a cherubic face. Her name Nobuhle was a popular Zulu name given to her by her late father from a small town near Durban. She grew up with her mother and step family living in a big Shack at Gugulethu, a sprawling of informal settlements on the outskirt of Cape Town. As a good-looking young woman without her biological father and much protection, men took advantage of her vulnerability and wanted to sleep with her even though she was just fifteen. They would tell her mother, she was beautiful, and then try to touch and convince her to sleep with them. This got so bad that soon after high school Nobuhle decided to run away from her mother and step family. She moved to Johannesburg, the city of gold but perhaps she would be a happy woman if she hadn’t ran away from home and instead furthered her education. On that faithful Sunday afternoon, Nobuhle was on her way returning from a cheerless visit to her mother and step family in Cape Town. Once again, she found herself in Johannesburg, the city she lived and worked without much success in twelve years. As she drove down the streets, her mind was lost in thoughts of the many intriguing scenes in her life. She approached a traffic light and slowed down listening to local Kwaito rap music on the radio. Just in time, the traffic lights flashed green but suddenly Nobuhle was jerked backward unable to drive because her car had stalled again. Eventually Nobuhle made it home walking with her cute legs accented in a short skirt that cuts up on her perfect thighs. As she walked through the courtyard of her apartment building, a fat woman called out from a half cluttered balcony. "Hey Nobuhle! Where have you been? Two white men came looking for you!" she said Nobuhle ignored and headed straight inside the house entrance. She loved her building, one of the most sought after in Hilbrow, a densely populated area of Johannesburg with a wild diversity of people from all over Africa and beyond, all with interesting jobs. Nobuhle’s profession was also interesting. She was a prostitute, a woman of pleasure, absolutely or put in black and white, a prostitute in her own unique with a healthy sense of her financial worth which means she was not exactly the type a man could easily pick up from the street. In fact, Nobuhle had the cozy apartment, well-sophisticated and ready for all her clients. Every piece of furniture, equipment or junk in the apartment suggested her intense personality. On the corner was a comfy chair propped up, not too far from the mantle where she had her photographs with friends, past colleagues and family. On one of the photographs was younger looking Nobuhle in between her mother and her late father, hands around each other, big smiles. Clearly all of the photographs showed a different Nobuhle from what she had become, a true South African woman, striped of dreams, happiness and her dignity. Shortly after arriving in the apartment, Nobuhle’s hunger for cigarette kicked in only for her to realise she had finished the last packet earlier in her car. She decided to head back outside into her often busy neighbourhood popularly known to be the heart of famous Nigerian drug ring in the city. As usual, Nobuhle walked inside a corner grocery supermarket, a small but very popular shop serving people in the area for nearly thirteen years. At his post was the crisp white man of sixty called Mr. Noel, a former schoolteacher who apparently was close to losing his entire life to drugs but was then a changed man. "How may I help you, young lady?" The man asked looking at Nobuhle, knowing very well she was the one lady who frequented his shop for two things only, cigarette and condoms. "Let me have the same as last time", Nobuhle replied standing across the counter. "Honey, you need to say exactly what you want. As you can see, it doesn't look like I'm getting any younger here," The old man muttered. "I see you're always alone. Do you have a wife?" Nobuhle asked in a very calm voice. Certainly not the kind of words Mr. Noel was expecting to hear from a lady as intense as Nobuhle. "To be honest, I've been single since I moved into this corner thirteen years ago. But I tell you what, having a wife is not as fantastic as most young men see it." He mumbled, and continued to tell Nobuhle about his long devastating marriage. Finally, the old man managed to get two boxes of Nobuhle’s usually preferred brand of condoms and cigarette and handed them over to her. "I think I'm going to need another one. Give me another box please," Nobuhle responded weighing the boxes of condoms. "Okay let me tell you. Each one of these condoms is quite elastic. You can actually wash and reuse them. Sure you're going to need all of it?" the old man asked trying to flesh out his knowledge of condoms from many years ago when he was lost. Without thinking twice, Nobuhle replied "Yes" urging him to get the third box of condoms. She paid for the items, received her balance and walked out of the shop. Soon Nobuhle returned to her apartment and lit a cigarette. Outside, a Mercedes Benz pulled to a stop in front of the building. Two fierce looking men climbed out. One wore a T-shirt with the words "I love mi job". A proper Nigerian man Jay-Jay, usually dressed in designer African attire and regular Jeans, led the men towards the entrance. Nobuhle heard knocks on the front door and quickly went over to open it. As she pulled the door unlocked, Jay-Jay marched in with his men smiling. "Nobuhle my sister", he said. "I'm not your sister" Nobuhle replied with her look showing nothing but the fact that she could never be a relative to any of the men, except maybe the purpose of their timely visit. "Okay let me give you something you want, White Chocolate." Jay-Jay placed a packet of cocaine on the table in front of Nobuhle. "This one is for you, and your people. You can pay me whenever it's finish. All of it". he said. "So how was the holiday with your family? You don't look happy," Jay-Jay continued, showing a bit of concern for Nobuhle. His men proceeded to get the packet of coke from her and began to cook up a storm. "All the time I go home, I come back feeling this way. No one cares. No one gives a fuck about me," Nobuhle mumbled leaning back on her chair. She remembered how her mother made her a laughing stock. How she was humiliated before her stepsisters who to her surprise had grown very happy with unbelievable stories about how men were driving them around in flashy cars and open doors for them. Moved by the tone of Nobuhle’s voice, a very unusual compassion, Jay-Jay responded shaking his big head. "No. I don’t want you to feel bad. You're like me. You just want different things. Relax." he regarded his men as they continued to cut the dope. "How about we go shopping tonight? Watch a romance movie, and then touch the body. What do you think?" he asked sliding his hand up her perfect legs. Unfortunately for him, the dismal look on Nobuhle’s face turned vicious. This worried the men and Jay-Jay decided then that it was time he and his boys left to attend to his other businesses. "Nobuhle I know you don’t have a man. Let me be the first to know when you need a man" He said chuckling with his boys, consoling his yet another failed attempt, a way of taking advantage of the co-depended relationship he had with the many prostitutes working for him. "I’ll be back for my money on Friday". He said and began to wonder off with his men leaving on the table a cocktail of well-prepared dope to help Nobuhle and her situation.
One week later, a man wearing a cheap black coat appeared entering Nobuhle’s apartment building early in the morning. He walked towards the entrance of her apartment like a lamb. Old but sturdy in the coat was Mr. Noel, the white man from the supermarket. He looked very calm as he entered Nobuhle’s flat and stood by the door staring at her. "It’s very early in the morning, but I suppose a man has to do what a man has to do" He said looking at his wrist watch and then Nobuhle who was sitting propped up on her comfy chair, wearing a top that outlined her body beautifully. The cloud of her cigarette made it difficult to tell if it was her Mr. Noel was talking to. "Come in. Have a seat,"Nobuhle offered with some respect for the old men. Not many like him would be able to run a supermarket without any support and be so successful. In spite of that, Mr. Noel continued to stare at Nobuhle out of fear and embarrassed that a man of his age was up early in the morning sneaking around for prostitutes. "So how long you’ve been doing this? This early-morning business, you do it for the fun or for a living?" He asked, taking a seat on the couch. Nobuhle got up from her chair and moved over to her CD player. "I thought you were going to ask, so what do we do now" She flicked through a stack of CDs and chose a soulful Afro-pop. "Now let’s talk about your money. How much do you make from the supermarket? I mean your profit. You know?" She wondered but with her music, starting to play, Mr. Noel got overwhelmed and felt it was unseemly for him to be talking about his money. "Should we not be talking about sex or actually doing it?" He asked dismissively. In response, Nobuhle sat on his lap and started to finger his coat, his chest and his neck. "Now, tell me about your wife?" She said in a soft voice. "My wife is gone. She’s gone away with some rich bastard." The old man replied trying to look at her face. "You mean your wife left you for another man?" "It’s been thirteen years" "So she doesn't care about you?" "No. All she cares about is the new man in her life." Nobuhle took his hand and squeezed it on her breast gently. The old man wasn’t expecting that. He managed to catch his breath. "Does your wife by any chance know how much you're making from the shop?" Nobuhle asked without a flicker of expression. "What shop?" "Your supermarket" "No she doesn't." "Then you should tell her. Let her know your income. Show her how comfortable you've been without her," Nobuhle suggested but clearly, the old man was not so sure. He could sense where the conversation was going so he opted to know Nobuhle a bit more. "You talk as if you have something in mind" He responded. Nobuhle didn’t say a word. Instead, she got up and moved back to her chair and lit a cigarette. "Yes. I have something in mind," She muttered. "What is it?" he asked. "My mother." "What about her?" "She thinks I'm a disgrace to her family." "Why's that?" "Because at 30, no job. No kids, nothing" "Does that mean you've been doing this business all the time?" Nobuhle smiled, and began to tell him about her last day-job working as an assistant at a law firm which relocated to Pretoria. This urged Mr. Noel to glance around and he noticed Nobuhle’s photographs on the mantle. Some of which, snap shots of Nobuhle and colleagues. Good times. "I use to wake up every morning, take a bath and go to work." She said, "But when my mother heard I'm looking for job, guess what? She tells me I lost my job because I can't keep a job." "Did you lose your job?" He asked "Like I said they relocated to Pretoria. I wanted to move need me" "So your mother doesn't believe that?” "She thinks I should be ashamed of myself." "Ashamed of yourself for what?" "My mate are all married and having kids. But what have I? Nothing." "So this is not what you wanted? Is that what you're saying? This is not what you really wanted" Mr. Noel asked looking at her very sternly. Suddenly, Nobuhle wasn’t willing to talk anymore about herself. To her, it was time for business. She got up and directed the old man to follow her inside the bedroom. She threw forward a recognisable box of condoms and got herself twisted into a very suggestive pose on the bed. "Come in" She called. Without wasting any more time, Mr. Noel pulled his trousers off and climbed inside the bed. "Please help me honey, I can’t remember the last time I was inside a woman", He mumbled trying to grab her. Nobuhle slipped her top off allowing the old man easy access to her breast, and the both of them continued getting very intimate till it was finally sunrise.
Nobuhle stepped out of her bathroom in the morning and put on a red sexy blouse that matched her short skirt. Meanwhile Mr. Noel was still on the bed exhausted. He admired her though he was a bit surprised with her sudden course of action. "You know that's quite a dress you nearly have on? What if I say I've been saving some money, enough to have you all day?" he asked "Keep your money for next time, now I need a job, a proper job." Nobuhle replied. "What job is going to pay you two grand for an hour?" "I have to look after my future." Nobuhle responded staring at herself on the mirror. Obviously she was ready to leave for her important meeting. With make-up applied to give an innocent, younger look, she set out hoping she could make the one big effort that hopefully can change her life forever. 8:00am in the morning, the streets of Hilbrow were already very busy. Nobuhle went up with Mr. Noel cruising through the crowd of people, some of which were rushing to work, others going about their various businesses. She was looking very good except for Mr. Noel, the old man walking beside her. "Nobuhle, I tell you what? I'll match whatever they're paying you. Come work for me. In the store. You get whatever you want" He said "You don't need me in your supermarket. You need someone decent not me." Nobuhle replied “I don't need anyone. I need you!" He continued "Well you know where to find me when you want me." "So what exactly do you want?" "What every woman wants." "Okay honey if you insist. I had the best morning of my entire life." The old man admitted as he finally gave up on his hope of spending more time together. Nobuhle called a metertaxi on the street side and stepped inside while Mr. Noel crossed over the street to his supermarket. Inside the taxi Nobuhle sat directly behind the driver and began to listen to the talk show on the radio. "So is it okay if black people are unemployed? Losing your job is one problem; not getting a job is another" The radio continued. After some time of having heard enough of it, Nobuhle arrived at her destination. A local hotel centrally located along Main Street of Marshalltown in central Johannesburg, not too far from Hilbrow. On top of the building was a large sign, "JoziStar hotel". Without waiting too long, Nobuhle met a well-dressed manager of the hotel. A perverted business minded Afrikaans man with strong interest in marketing and good customer services. "Nobuhle Phumlani, you mind telling me one more time, why do you want to work with us?" he asked as he led Nobuhle to the elevator. The both stepped in and stood face to face to each other. "I understand you were secretary at a Law firm which relocated to Pretoria. I'm not quite sure if you have passion for hospitality." The manager continued in a very friendly manner. Nobuhle smiled and replied with some remarkable confidence. "Sir I believe I have a unique passion for hospitality. If you must know my biggest mistake isn't sleeping with my boss; is my previous job” "That's quite interesting." The manager responded regarding her cleavage and then her face. "Sir the truth is I like this job. I like it as much as I like men with big penis," Nobuhle added exploiting the manager’s apparent weakness for woman. Ping. The elevator opens in the ground floor. The manager moved out and led Nobuhle to the hotel reception office where Debbie, a well-tanned, white woman around 40-years old was on duty. "Hello Debbie, meet Nobuhle Phumlani, she has tremendous hospitality experience. So I’ve come to a decision, lets give her the job." Debbie was a very nice woman who had been working in the hotel for nearly ten years. Thoughtfully, Nobuhle kept quiet as the manager continued to speak with her. Few minutes later Nobuhle was assigned a desk in the office and told to start work the following day. Though she was not sure how she would do on the job, she looked self-assured and pleased with herself that she could turn her attributes for something she really wants. On her way home, she decided to stop by at Mr. Noel’s supermarket. "Hello mister." She greeted leaning forward with a beautiful smile. "I thought I'll never see you again. How did it go?" Mr. Noel asked. "One step ahead." Nobuhle smiled and looked at the two fat women selecting vegetables in the shop. She turned to Mr. Noel and sarcastically told him she also wanted to buy vegetables. Mr. Noel regarded the joke and his whole face suddenly brightened with hope that maybe he could get another chance to be with a real woman, especially one that made him feel so good like he had never felt in a long time. Against all odds, Mr. Noel got back in the apartment with Nobuhle but this time there was more to their relationship. It was obvious Nobuhle liked him. It was as if she could see herself through him. When she looked at him she saw an old man running a supermarket all by himself. But when she got closer to him she saw a helpless man like her late father doing his best to get his life back. This was what moved Nobuhle and she decided to fully welcome Mr. Noel into her apartment showing him her photographs, photos of herself when she newly arrived in Johannesburg. Then the photograph with her mother and late father. Nobuhle was very beautiful and innocent when she was young. Mr. Noel admired the photographs while Nobuhle left to make super for the both of them. In the morning Nobuhle’s bathroom was filled with steam as she showered. Mr. Noel noticed the outline of her naked body through the smoky glass and decided to step away. He moved over to a desk in the apartment and typed "earlymooners.co.za" on Nobuhle’s small desktop computer. The webpage opened up displaying photos and tabs. Mr. Noel scrolled down and found a tab with the words "girls in Joburg". He clicked on the link and another page opened up like a bonanza. He quickly clicked from one page to another and finally a profile of Nobuhle dressed half-naked in photos. She looked so hot daring the old man to stare more at her. On the spur of the moment, Nobuhle appeared from behind in her bath towel striking a seductive pose. "You think she is attractive, don't you?" She asked. Mr. Noel got up and turned to her. "Who took the photos? You?" He asked casually. "You like them?" "Well they're pretty. I thought I should have a look again." He mumbled swallowing his saliva. "So you like them!" Nobuhle startled as the grin on her face widened into a smile. "Okay Nobuhle, now that you have a job, what’s going to happen next?" He asked "I'll keep you. As a friend." Nobuhle replied “Am afraid. Am afraid sooner or later you’ll be a complete different person. You might not even want to set your eyes on me." The old man mumbled. "So what’s your story? What happened to you?" Nobuhle asked staring at the old man and eagerly wanting to know why he was the way he was. Suddenly his thoughtful face deepened into sadness. He sank back to the chair thinking about his life. "I ruined my life... I lost everything, my wife, my son. I lost everything to drugs" Mr .Noel started to cry. "Where is he? Your son?" Nobuhle asked in a soft voice moving closer to him. "I don't know where he is." Mr. Noel replied looking at Nobuhle like a sheep. "Please believe me. I've changed. I don't do drugs anymore. I want to be happy again" he added. "That's good" Nobuhle responded taking his hands and helping him to stand up. "You’re the only friend I have" he said "It’s okay. Nobuhle comforted him. "So we can still be seeing each other?" He asked with a bit of relief. "As long as it makes you happy," Nobuhle replied, and finally the sheepish look on Mr. Noel’s face brightened. Since his wife, he had never been so close to any woman. Nobuhle switched the computer off, kissed him
on his neck, and left to get ready for her new job.