Life continued to shower me with blessings in the years that followed. That’s what happens when you work hard, behave in an honourable fashion and live up to your full potential. You become a beacon of hope for the people around you. You become, like me, wildly successful. Fifteen years after Ayanda stole my heart, I ran a thriving business in the heart of Johannesburg. My office was smack dab in the midst of the big city chaos – the cars, the smoke, the countless faces. I soaked it all up. My clients were among the wisest and most discerning people in the city, people who knew what they wanted and were happy to pay top dollar to get it. And I, of course, was happy to oblige.
My daily routine was what you would expect from a mogul. I woke up in my lavish apartment. If it had rained there might be a puddle in the middle of the bedroom floor, due to the artistic leaks in the roof. I would turn over on my old mattress – beds were so 1999 – and kiss my female companion awake. I had a way with the ladies. Something about my air of mystery and entrepreneurial spirit drove them crazy. I wouldn’t call myself a chick magnet – but other people would.
On this particular day, however, I woke up alone. Sometimes a creative guy like me needs a little space to get his mojo back. I took a cold bath – I really needed to remember to talk to the landlord about that geyser – and walked across the room to shake Vusi awake. Yes, Vusi was still around. He was the only part of my old life that remained, the only person I could trust. I taught him everything I knew and shared my success – and my home – with him. That’s what friends do. He hadn’t changed much. He still had those thick glasses and now braces as well.
“Come on, Vusi, we’re already late.”
He grumbled, turned over and looked at the time on his phone. “Ag, Senzo, five more minutes.”
I returned with a cup of cold water, which I dumped all over him. He jumped up, making me laugh. Even after all these years, he never saw it coming.
We arrived at our consulting room just in time to beat the morning rush. I suppose I should explain what I mean by “consulting room”. Let me put it this way: people came to me with problems, and I made the problems go away. The biggest problem most of my clients had was what I like to call FEID Syndrome. That’s Financial Excess and Intelligence Deficit, or as Vusi liked to say, money to burn and no clue how lighters work. That’s where we came in. I was the match, Vusi was the flame and together we made magic happen. Just like old times.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish