On the other side of Windhoek, in the secluded streets of Wanahenda, a young man named Mandume lived a life of quiet luxury. He was well known, though little understood, for his calm demeanor and the mystery that surrounded his family. Mandume lived with his mother, Maria, and his younger sister, Bonita, in a sprawling, grand house that whispered of old money and corporate influence. The family owned David's Architectures, a prestigious company that had once been a symbol of stability and success—but that was before David, the head of the family, vanished without a trace five years ago. How does a grown man, a respected figure in his community, just disappear? That was the question that lingered, unanswered, in the air.
Mandume, a final-year student at NUST, had taken up the mantle of acting MD of his father's company. With his dark hair streaked with patches of white due to Poliosis—an inherited condition that had also affected his father—Mandume wore a hat or beanie to conceal his unique appearance. Though his condition made him stand out, it was the mystery of his father's disappearance that truly marked him. He was well-mannered, reserved, and loved by his peers, though he was a man of few words, always careful to keep his emotions tightly locked away.
There was someone who knew him well, though. Star. They had spent countless hours together, often exchanging quiet, knowing glances when they passed each other in the halls of NUST. Their friendship was close, though they never acknowledged the bond out loud—too much unspoken, too many walls between them.
Mandume's younger sister, Bonita, was just as bright but far more fiery than her older brother. At twenty years old, she was studying Business Management at NUST, and her friendship with Tiffanie had long been a cornerstone of her life. Bonita, however, was not a fan of Star. There was something about her that rubbed Bonita the wrong way—perhaps it was the way she always seemed to be just a little too close to Mandume, even if they both pretended not to notice it.
But there was more at play than sibling squabbles. Maria, Mandume's mother, had been married to David for twenty years. To the outside world, she was the doting wife, always graceful, always composed—but in the shadows, Maria harbored a dangerous ambition. She had always been David's crush since their college days, and she had supported him through his rise to prominence. But something had shifted over the years—something had made her bitter. She was now determined to reclaim everything that David had built, including his company. Maria had no intentions of letting her stepchildren stand in her way.
One crisp morning, Mandume awoke to find his breakfast waiting for him on a tray. His mother, ever attentive, stood at his bedside, a warm smile on her face as she placed the meal in front of him.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Breakfast in bed, just like usual," Maria said, her tone sweet but with a subtle edge.
Mandume, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, glanced at the tray and sighed. "I know it's your house, but next time, knock, Mom. I'm not a kid anymore… but thanks, anyway."
Maria's smile wavered, a hint of something darker creeping into her gaze. "Mmm, you now know how to talk," she teased, her voice low and dangerous. "But it won't be long before I shut that mouth of yours forever."
Mandume chuckled, unamused. "Mom, that joke is way too old. Anyway, I need some lemon juice. I'm getting too fat."
"Is that so?" Maria raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should stop eating that girl's sweets, then."
Mandume's face lit up with a grin. "No, Mom. Her sweets are special. If I don't have them, I won't be productive. You know that."
Maria rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Fine. As long as I don't have to tell Tiffanie."
Mandume laughed, not catching the glimmer of malice in his mother's eyes as she left the room.
A moment later, Bonita walked in, dressed for school, her expression already filled with irritation.
"Did you eat your breakfast, or are you going to let it rot in there again?" Maria's voice cut through the silence.
"Good morning, Mom. How are you?" Bonita snapped, her tone sharp. "How did you sleep?"
Maria didn't miss a beat. "Okay, what's the problem now?"
"I'm tired. I'm ready to go, but your first-last-born son is still fighting with his shirt buttons." Bonita threw her hands up in frustration. "And because I'm forbidden to drive, I have to wait for him, or I'll be late. Why did you fire his nanny?"
Maria's eyes flickered with irritation at Mandume. "Oh, Mandume… Come on. David's not here to button your shirt anymore. You have to learn how to do it yourself. It's been five years."
Mandume, who had been quietly sitting up on his bed, flinched at the mention of his father. His shoulders tensed, his eyes darkening. Bonita noticed it immediately.
"Mom, how can you say that?" Bonita started, but Maria cut her off.
"Do you have to bring Dad into everything? I was just making a joke."
Mandume sat in silence, staring at his lap. Bonita caught his gaze, but she quickly looked away, feeling the weight of the conversation press down on her.
"I didn't mean it like that," Maria said, softer now, moving toward Mandume. "Come on, let me help you."
But Mandume shook his head. "It's fine, Mom. I've got it."
He grabbed his laptop and stood up, but in the process, he knocked over his breakfast, spilling it across the floor. He didn't seem to notice as he scrambled to gather his things.
Maria stood there, watching him with a mix of fury and resignation, but she said nothing. "Good day ahead, kids," she muttered, trying to clean up the mess. "Be productive."
Bonita and Mandume climbed into the car, both silent as the engine hummed to life. Bonita glanced over at her brother, her face softening.
"Brother, let me button your shirt for you," she said, offering a hand.
Mandume stopped, looking at her. "I'm sorry, Mom didn't mean it like that," she added quickly.
Mandume sighed, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, I know. I just don't understand why she keeps bringing up Dad. It's like she's using it to control me. It's not fair."
Bonita leaned over and patted his arm. "I know. But you're going to be a man. Tiffanie won't like seeing you like this."
Mandume forced a smile, the pain in his eyes hidden beneath his calm expression. "Better. Let's go."
They drove off, the tension between them lingering in the air, neither of them speaking further as the day began.
The quiet, unsettling tension of the Wanahenda household continued to simmer beneath the surface, and Mandume's life, entwined with his family's secrets, was about to take a darker turn. With each passing day, the shadow of David's disappearance grew longer, and the truth behind Maria's machinations was inching closer to being revealed. How much longer could Mandume remain in the dark? And would he uncover the truth before it tore everything apart?