Chapter 7 - Irene Mavuso

Three years ago I signed my name to a lie. Today I found out I was sleeping with the man it sent to prison.

The paper unfolded smaller than it had felt in my pocket all morning.

A photocopy. Thin paper. The folds many years old, the corners worn soft from handling. The page was yellowed where it had been touched the most.

A sworn affidavit. Case number 1142/22. Three years and four months ago.

I, Irene Mavuso, do hereby swear that the following statement is true to the best of my knowledge — that on or about the dates listed below my husband Mr Sipho Dlamini conducted his business dealings with Mr Thabo Khumalo as a junior partner, that the financial misappropriations described in the charge sheet are consistent with what I observed from Mr Khumalo's conduct over the period of our acquaintance...

I read it twice. The second time I made it to the signature at the bottom — my own, the loose loop I always made on the I of Irene, the firm bar across the M. The date next to it. The notary stamp.

Then I looked up.

Co-accused: Khumalo, Thabo.

The lemon tree was rustling outside. The washing machine was still spinning. I could hear him on the other side of the wall opening and closing the kitchen drawer where he had been keeping his bread knife since he moved in.