Thulubonge Mpande

Thaba Tshwane, the gate is probably the same width as at the other bases but the atmosphere here puts a glossy filter on everything. From the creaseless uniform worn by the staff to the brilliant stainless steel truss head screws of the door hinges. She thought for a moment that the air composition is also different, anomalous even. And the temperature changes, from one room to another, are more pronounced. The group was met by Major Dalvi and Mwashita and then divided into two groups. The soldiers went with Maj. Dalvi. When Maj. Dalvi and Mwashita had introduced themselves as their guides for the hour, Thula was impressed that collaboration filtered even to such a basic activity. They arrived at their first stop, the human resource office, and Maj. Mwashita asked them to introduce themselves. She made small talk with each person based on where they are from. Thula hadn’t noticed her face until that moment. By now she would have studied the person and drawn at least one conclusions about their day or state of mind. Five minutes before the hour is up, Maj. Mwashita opens the door to the fifth floor of the staff accommodation. She tells them that their names were already on their doors and that they should use the afternoon to read the info pack that had been emailed to them during the tour. The lights switch on as they walk through the corridor to find their rooms.

Second door on the right and Thula wasn’t surprised to see her name so soon. It was either this or one of the rooms at the end of the corridor. This is always the Mpande siblings room draw. Mpho hates it when they get a room at the end of the corridor, Thula still hasn’t decided which she prefers. Her door catches on the carpet when she initially opens it. She puts her handbag down and kneels to see if she will have to adjust the door or trim the carpet. It’s the latter. The corridor is quiet by the time she stands up. She wants to message Khana to ask her what room she’s in, but decides to find a pair of scissors instead. Feeling accomplished, she leans against the window and starts dialling Mamas number, but the sight of this barren room from the window and the 3434 at the end of Mamas cellphone number remind her of Tandzile.

“Mntanami, your mom and I were just about to call you yazi,” Mamas voice is as cheerful as it is relieved.

“Kodwa mama ihaba.”

“Ask her,” she hears Mme in the background.

“Have you called your cousin to arrange for him to get your aunts blanket and soap?”

“Not yet mama. Mme, please don’t call uanti and create expectations. I’ll call uSiyanda before I go to bed.”

AU specialist briefing: SADC region, Dear Miss Mpande, Congratulations on your appointment and thank you for heeding the call for this deployment … she reads for the second time and feels less like an imposter. It’s morning but every detail from last nights meetings is still playing in her mind. At the first meeting she met the team she would be working with. Her peers. Thula listened and observed more than she spoke. Maj. Mwashita did not need to do much to steer the meeting and maintain command. Most of the team members had worked with her in the past and this seemed to have set the tone. She noted that only one of her colleagues was afflicted with the need to rephrase what their counterparts said. She watched them, all of them and listened to their initial thoughts. An exercise she does consistently at the start of every project. She calls this time the ‘honesty window’. The meeting went 8 minutes over time and they only had 30 minutes for dinner. At the second meeting, Maj. Mwashita was their mouthpiece. There were no introductions at this meeting. Gen. Nzinga opened the meeting by acknowledging each of the teams present and then proceeded to go through the agenda. The room then began to fill with an orderly and focused discussion amongst the Majors and Generals. They discussed the status of the region. Each of the Ports currently under siege were thoroughly discussed from north to south, west to east. Thula noticed a shift in the mood in the room when Gen. Namadamu stood to present the statistics. The decline in number of missing civilians and dead soldiers was not celebrated. Instead Gen. Namadamu was asked for a breakdown of the numbers by region. The numbers showed that the Mombasa Port has seen the largest decline consistently for the last three months. A special report accounting for this was requested. The generals wanted to understand the possible reasons for this relative success.

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