Molefi, a psychology graduate from UNISA, starts planning out his boss's birthday bash the moment he resumes at his desk. He'll give Bandele a gig to be proud of – one that Polemann residents will talk about many years from now.

What will better gladden Bandele than to gather the crème-de la-crème of pretty faces in town? Varieties of ladies that would overwhelm him so much he won't know where to turn. That's a priority and money isn't a problem. He has three weeks to put it all together.

Eager to please his boss, Molefi searches the internet for contact addresses and office locations of event planners and retailers who'll help achieve the ideas brewing in his head. He also compares prices to ensure costs aren't stratospheric, regardless the blank cheque offered him. The exercise lasts a week or so.

Meanwhile, Loretta and Dineo are due for a visit on Wednesday. Mother and daughter dash to the mansion as if going for hospital emergency treatments. Eschewing whatever shame there is to the visit, they turn blind eyes to neighbours' derisive glances. Eyes escort the duo up till when they melt into Bandele's maroon gates. Tongues wag endlessly, as usual.

"Don't follow Dineo here again. Look after your husband." Bandele welcomes Loretta with an instruction.

"That's true, Mama." Dineo feels emboldened by the words of affection. "I know my way here now."

She surely does. Having paid her tuition fees, shopped for clothes and shoes with plenty of cash still left to burn following a chance meeting with Bandele, she doesn't need a GPS to locate his castle. Neither does she need Loretta's motherly guidance. A university student is more than capable of making her own decisions.

Loretta receives Bandele's injunction with mixed feelings. Her last visit here was a jackpot. That doesn't stop her from hanging out with him for the night though, if only for the last time.

Bandele accommodates both again tonight, playing a nice host. The morning after he does the needful. Loretta feels honoured to be the one whose daughter he takes to, for which reason the verbal furore her visits generate on the street becomes meaningless.

The following Wednesday Pono opens the gate for Dineo who walks into the compound with an air of familiarity, an aura of sure-footedness only a castle resident should dare to ooze. She sidesteps Pono, cat-walking into the building. Not even the driver who lifts her to school deserves a handwave.

"Hi, Molefi." Dineo greets in a melodic tune, raising two fingers as she makes for the staircase.

"Hold on, lady." Molefi calls out.

Right leg on the tread, Dineo pauses, swinging her loose braids around while fanning her squeezed face as if she's under scorching desert sun whereas the air-conditioners are on.

Molefi tries but fails to recall the identity of the visitor, initially taking her for Bandele's sister whom he's yet to meet. Only someone close to the boss can walk with such pride. He dispels the thought – Bandele would have mentioned that he's expecting her sister.

But this person's gait is familiar even if her swag is unique. Can she be an old guest? One who hasn't shown up for a year or longer? Maybe she's one of these society ladies who come around.

Molefi plods towards Dineo, squinting, wary of offending an important guest. But as the personal assistant to the castle owner, nobody sees Bandele without his permission. All visitors must show some respect.

Dineo removes her sunshade and as Molefi recognises her, his jaw slackens. That afro-wearing and eyes-dropping innocent girl of two weeks is now forming a city-sophisticat.

Marvelling at the incredulity of Dineo's transformation, Molefi re-evaluates her neat multi-coloured braids, stylish and pinkish nails which complement her mascara-like face so well. Her body contours, enhanced with accessories, make her difficult to recognise. If not that she's a regular on the CLL, and gets a free lift to the university, he would have considered shooing her away for over-bloated packaging.

"Dineo!" Molefi whisper shouts.

"Yes, Molefi." She takes another step on the tread, sounding melodious again.

"Wow, I almost didn't recognise you." He flashes a grin, apparently impressed. A campus babe dating an extraordinary blesser needs to look and dress the part. Some ladies that come around fail to improve their looks over time.

Dineo must be getting ideas from her new friends at the university. Having them around for Bandele's birthday doesn't sound like a bad idea. Why not?

"Which university do you attend?"

"Wits." Her lips extend to the full length, revealing her entire dentition.

"Oh, okay. Are you aware there'll be a birthday party here soon?"

Creases form on Dineo's forehead, trying to recall if Bandele mentioned it. But she regains composure, answering in the affirmative. "He almost told me but I didn't pay attention. I had a call then." Her eyes roll.

Molefi considers her naivety hard to miss. "Okay. I'll need you to invite up to seven of your friends who are like you in stature, not the slender ones. Take note."

"That's fine." She smiles. "I'll tell my gals. I'll do whatever will please my man."

Molefi suppresses a chuckle. "Enjoy your stay up there." He waves her off. "More details later."

"Thanks." Her earlier towering shoulder lowers a notch as she climbs up the stairs.

Nice girl. Molefi returns to his desk to wrap up the birthday bash plan which Bandele can't wait to have. Reclining on the chair, he scans the checklist for the umpteenth time.

Bandele's February 8 birthday falls on a Thursday. But a Saturday bash is always better. On that day, guests will use Orlando Stadium soccer pitch as car park. G4T Security and paramilitary men will provide security cover for guests. Castle security will protect the house while Akida will guide the celebrant, who'll stay indoors the whole day. Audio-visual gadgets will beam the events to the street.

Polemann Street will stay closed to visitors, only Bandele's guests are welcome. Movements of tenants will be restricted – they are expected to turn up at the party. Parading police officers will keep guests safe from local and visiting urchins.

Three deejays will be commissioned: one will dish out local music on the street. Another inside the castle. And the third will entertain VIPs in the lobbyroom where Bandele will sit.

The invitation cards will come in three brands: Premium cards for Bandele's close friends and business associates. Standard invites for those worthy of entering the compound. Regular cards for others. Many will be alerted through wall posters.

PartyLake will supply canopies and other party accessories. They should be at the castle by 9am. All accessories – table covers, eating cutleries and party souvenirs – must be branded 'Bandele 38.' It's the Lion of Soweto celebrating; everyone in the township must feel the difference.

For drinks, there'll be an agreement with Makro Enterprises to suspend alcohol sale at the Orlando liquor store. All stocked wines should be ferried to the Polemann Castle. The request will be made clear: two thousand bottles of Hennessey and Moet. A thousand bottles of Red Label whiskey. Five thousand bottles of Castle Lager. Ten thousand bottles of one-litre coca-cola. Three loaded trucks must be on the ground to supply orange, apple and cranberry juice drinks – direct from the trucks' dispensers.

Food will be available at all times. Ulambile Foods PTY will serve guests within the compound three-course meals, freshly delivered from their wagons and bakkies. Seven Soweto-based caterers will supply meals to guests on the street. For lovers of chickens, chips and burgers, all KFC and TFC outlets in Orlando will move their daily outputs to the castle. Their regular customers can visit out-of-town outlets. Bandele is celebrating.

The bash kicks off at 2 pm and will last till the guests leave. VIPs may hang around till midnight but Soweto residents can stay till dawn. Such gigs don't come often. It's an opportunity to taste Bandele's generosity.

In finalising the checklist, Molefi makes calls to confirm companies' readiness to provide such bizarre customised-services, to which they all agree. The profit margins look too good to ignore.

When done collating prices, Molefi adds them up and arrives at a princely sum of three hundred and sixty-four thousand, four hundred and three rands; twenty cents.

"Wow!" Molefi exclaims laughing aloud, mindful that his boss is busy with Dineo. His unusual outburst attracts Akida and Pono who rush to his desk. This birthday thing has seen the three men close ranks. Even if unstated, each person sees an opportunity to enrich his pocket. There might not be a better chance to milk Bandele.

On explaining his ideas to the duo, Molefi watches with relish as their jaws slacken. Do they have the skills to handle an event of that magnitude? All these never-before-heard ideas and lavishness?

Molefi gauges their expressions, deeming them confused. "Don't worry guys. There'll be people around to support us."

That relieves.

Pono places both elbows on the desk. "Will the boss spend such an amount on just a birthday party?"

Akida winces. "Doesn't he spend more on his bitches?" His face turns away.

"Well, we'll soon see." Molefi lifts off the chair. "Do you support everything I have here?" He raises the checklist.

"They're good. Bandele will like it," Pono says.

Akida feels like adding his ideas – those he got attending wealthy peoples' parties. Since Molefi wants novelty, he'll have it. "Can we order ten roasted cows, hang them on poles outside the building, so that guest can slice off the beef and serve themselves – a kind of beef buffet?"

Pono's raises a querulous face.

Molefi returns to the desk. "Roasted cows. What do you mean?"

"Yes. People like to eat meat around here. Instead of serving guests beef on plates, they'll walk up to the roasted cow hanging from a pole, pick a knife and slice as much meat as they want."

Strange, though, the idea sticks. "Nyama express." Molefi chuckles before adding whole-cow braai to his list and recalculates the expenses. Who knew this muscle-wielding man can come up with such an idea?

Friday morning, while Bandele lounges in the lobbyroom, Molefi hands over a 'report' detailing his plans for the birthday bash. "I've worked hard on this, sir." He says, proud of his effort.

The boss hasn't been troubling his aide for a week. Only when Molefi is neck-deep in a task does he avoid the lobbyroom. Bandele, back to the headrest, eyes marking patterns on the ceiling arts, asks that the plan be read. There isn't much Molefi can do with this party, coming from a poor background. He stands to be proved wrong.

Molefi raises the booklet with both hands, giving the impression he's about to read from the country's constitution. Opening the first page, he keeps an eye on his boss who seems ready to scoop every word. Molefi reels out his plans, newscaster-style.

Creases and grins alternate on Bandele's chubby face, listening to his aide's outlandish ideas. He turns to Akida but the muscleman's bespectacled face carries no expression. Bandele claps for fifteen seconds, but there's no smile on his face. "How much will the whole thing cost us?" He perches on the edge of the sofa.

"Err...much less than four hundred thousand rands."

Bandele rises to his feet, pacing around rubbing his chin, impressed Molefi came up with cool stuff – ideas professional event planners won't dare to suggest. Beaming audio-visuals to the street, printing his name and face on souvenirs, all at half the cost earmarked for the bash. Fifty thousand rands was all he thought Molefi would put forth. Molefi scales this hurdle yet again.

Event planners can't even do better. One submitted a proposal but it doesn't compare with Molefi's – in terms of substance and razzmatazz; in terms of programmes lined up for Polemann residents; in terms of the overall putsch to his ego. Their proposal centred around fairy-tale and fantasy-land canopies, which bloat the budget beyond normal.

Spending a few hundred thousand rands to make Soweto people happy won't be overkill if only to let his friends see that he's head and shoulder above them all. He's a leader of the community. First among equals. A saviour to the people. The Polemann landlord. The Lion of Soweto.

"Did you invite the media houses?"

"Yes, the private media houses. If we involve the public broadcaster, their journalists will start poking-noses into your private affairs. They'll start asking about your source of income; whether or not you pay taxes regularly. I thought it wise to leave them out. Or must I invite them too?"

"No, no." Bandele raises a finger, shooting up his opinion of Molefi. A grin sneaks into his face. "You're a computer, my boy. Your head works like a clock. If you continue like this, I will promote you." He drops to the seat. "This is good. Fantastic. Is there anything you want to discuss?"

"Sir, what's left now is the clothes you'll wear on that day. I didn't want to recommend any attire but if I may, I'll suggest you wear suits and change them every hour. That means you'll put on about ten different suits."

"Continue... just continue. I like it when you talk." Bandele claps, laughing hysterically.

"It's going to be your day. Every guest must see that you're fashionable."

"Yes...yes. Remind me on Saturday, we must go to Sandton."

"Okay, sir."

Molefi turns around to leave, but Bandele calls him back. "Any other thing?"

"No, sir. That's all for now, except you want me to add something for you."

Bandele looks around but can't point out anything left. The plans are well-thought-out. Satisfactory. From all indications, it will be a memorable day. Of all the ideas, using Orlando Stadium as car park tickles the most.

Bandele narrows his eyes at Molefi. "There are few good things you've done well since you started working here. This is the best to come out of your head." He collects the booklet and asks him to come back three hours later.

Bandele flips the pages, taking a special interest in each item, seeing no need to modify any. All is okay. Done. Not to be seen to be negligent, he calls Molefi to ask why food should be provided by local caterers. "Why not those from Sandton? You think they won't come here?"

"If we involve caterers around here, people will speak well of you."

"Yes, yes, okay. I'm going with your plan."

Since police officers will provide security, there's nothing to worry about. Police bosses are his friends and many of them will attend the bash, anyway.

In three days, invitations fly out to expected guests and the general public. The printer does a good job meeting the target five thousand copies request. The mouth-watering amount on offer ensures there are no errors at all. No one wants to see the wrong side of Bandele's face.

With Bandele's birthday invitation in people's hands, posters on every wall in and around Polemann, rumour mills get abuzz as residents ask themselves: "Did you buy a new dress for the lion's birthday festival? Money shall rain on that day."