Fetching a wife material for Bandele is an uphill task for Molefi. He goes about musing over the right woman that'll fit into his boss's queer lifestyle. The more he thinks about it, the more befuddling the issue becomes. Bandele ought to have chosen one from the scores of ladies that attended his birthday bash.

To underscore the importance the Soweto Lion attaches to this wife-hunting issue, he stops inviting ladies to the castle. Resident females parade around the castle, but Bandele refuses them entry. For a week the Polemann landlord keeps away from women, reading newspapers and watching TV, his newfound hobbies, things that surprise his aides. The world is coming to an end.

Digging into the heart of the matter, the three ladies Molefi will select must be someone like Dineo whose beauty and good diction Bandele fell flat for. But the young lady blew up the opportunity with her arrogant manners and obsessive tendencies.

Molefi sits on the desk ruminating over the task at hand. Suddenly, the boss appears finicky. Listing three decent ladies is daunting. Where does one find a girl with a nice physique, well-spoken and morally upright, yet able to manage a mansion this big? Bringing those to hang out with him is easy; selecting the one to marry is tough as tungsten.

Yet again, the issue of retaining his job sneaks through. Bandele's new partner will bring her group of loyalists. An arrogant woman won't blink twice before firing all aides. Will he now return to the labour market when Omphile's kids are expecting bumper Christmas gifts and have started listing items for Easter? No way. Telling them he's no longer employed will be bad news.

"Hmm."A gasp escapes Molefi. He'll rather work hard and pick a well-behaved lady who'll show mercy to everyone around. "I wonder why he wants ladies who speak good English." Molefi grabs the computer mouse, opens up the LCP, CLL and RPL. Three hundred and fifty-eight ladies in all. "Arrgh!"

He switches off his phone.

Using Microsoft Excel, Molefi filters out those that attend the university. That leaves him with seventy-three profiles. "Good enough. At least I'm getting somewhere."

For reasons best known to him, he cancels out those studying social science courses. "Those will be too smart for us."

Ladies doing science-related courses don't qualify for a look-in. "Those will be too career-focused or socially awkward."

Safiya, one of the eligible ladies, studies accounting at UJ and lives five streets away. Her only snag is having a slim figure. The message she gets from Molefi draws raised brows.

"Hello, Safiya?"

"Yes, please."

"This is Molefi from the Polemann Castle. Bandele is ready for marriage and you're one of those considered."

"Considered for —?"

"I want to advise you to eat up and add some flesh. He doesn't like slim ladies so —"

"What are you talking about? I don't know your Bandele. Please check the number again."

"Are you not Safiya Abdul?"

"That's right."

"Haven't you been here at Polemann Castle?"

"Hell No!"

"You mean that..."

The lady drops the call, leaving Molefi wondering how her details got to his records. Did Pono and his boys bring details of some random ladies? Those lads must have been submitting names just to make up the numbers. Thank God he called beforehand. Molefi deletes Safiya's profile.

This work is getting more tedious than initially thought.

The psychology graduate opts for students studying social work, cosmetology and hospitality – basically art-related courses. That leaves him with eleven students with qualities Bandele desires. He assesses their pictures through his boss's eyes.

"This one isn't tall enough." Crossed!

"This one has bad fashion sense." Crossed!

"This one's bust is not symmetrical." Crossed!

"She's too fat." Crossed!

"Not domesticated enough." Crossed!

Molefi selects three profiles eventually, following which he rings their numbers to announce his boss's wish to settle down. "Be ready to visit the castle soon."

Having been on the computer for four hours, Molefi feels like wrapping up for the day. What he's unaware of, though, is the chain of reactions his calls are generating around Soweto. News makes the rounds that one of the richest men in Soweto seeks a life partner. Not a few ladies consider themselves eligible.

Molefi switches on his phone after leaving the desk area. To his chagrin, countless texts buzz on the device. Thirty-four missed calls, eighteen text messages.

One of them reads: "Sandra Mbalula. +2773088.... Available for Bandele."

The next text suggests Safiya didn't keep the news to herself. "I'm fleshy. I don't need to add weight."

Molefi's phone keeps buzzing throughout the evening until he turns it off again.

***

"Molefi!" Bandele calls from the lobbyroom.

The lad rushes upstairs to meet his boss.

"Why is it hard for you to get me three nice girls?"

"Sir, you asked for university students. I have to select them carefully."

"And so what? Have you finished?"

"Err...yes." Molefi's eyes drop.

The unconvincing response doesn't impress Bandele who suddenly recalls how discourteous he'd been to ladies over the years, the reason of which Molefi needs more time to complete the task. In fact, the lad can't do it alone. They'll have to drive around town to pick the best out there. Serious suitors don't seek their wives by proxy.

Friday evening, Bandele and his aides leave the castle to seek the perfect woman for him. They have their eyes set on a posh club in the neighbourhood. As is usual with trips like this, they cruise at a leisurely speed during which residents wave hands with gusto, singing his praise and ululating. Bandele nods in return but calls out none. His focus is now different. The desire to keep away from ladies is community service – a big personal sacrifice. His one-week abstinence feels like six years already.

At the street's entrance, a police patrol vehicle veers towards his Range-Rover SUV. "The Polemann Lion!" The police officers salute, even while seated in their vehicle.

"Well done, gentlemen," Bandele pauses to hand over an envelope before waving them away.

Just then Pius-de-drunk shuffles into sight. "Bandele de Sergeant," he shouts. "I want to drink, and I know you alone can guarantee me six bottles of Hennessey."

Bandele smiles at the drunkard, waiting for his aides to do the necessary. "Settle him and let's move out of here."

Hardly has the vehicle moved an inch when he motions on the driver to stop again, on glimpsing two ladies strolling along the pavement. They veer closer to the pretty pair, whereupon the driver slides down the window.

"Hello ladies," Bandele says, leaning slightly forward.

"Hello Papa," the older lady, Margaret, replies.

"Are you going far?"

"Not at all. We live nearby." She points to Princewill Street, next to Polemann.

"Let me drop you at home." Bandele looks puzzled.

"No. Thank you." Margaret's eyes twinkle at the glittering ride, but her flat is just around the corner. "We're not going far. We can walk."

Bandele flinches at the lady's reluctance, a gesture which gets his boys frowning. Akida casts the lady an ugly glance from the front seat. Molefi goes for the door, hanging on to see if the boss will give him a go-ahead. "She must be new in Soweto."

Margaret tilts her head. Did she say or do anything wrong? Not at all. Her co-traveller, Sheline, maintains some safe yards from the scene, apparently bothered by the size of Akida's muscles which sends Bluetooth messages.

"Do you know me at all?" Bandele glowers at Margaret but has his eyes on Sheline whose hugging attire delights.

Margaret reassesses the white Range Rover, acknowledging seeing it around often, but till date she doesn't know the owner. "I don't think so."

"Are you new in Soweto?" Molefi yells from within.

"Not at all, sir. I've lived here for years. But why these questions?" She moves away. "Please, we have to go home now."

Margaret signals to her colleague whose legs are already in run mode. They cross over the pavement, doubling their pace towards Princewill Street. Sheline walks faster, having lately been getting lots of residents' attention. That a glittering wedding ring sits on her finger doesn't seem to discourage anyone.

Some safe metres away, Margaret looks back, wondering why the SUV owner was arrogant. "Be careful how you interact with strangers." She raises a cautioning finger towards Sheline. "Soweto men can be funny. An example is what you just saw. Orlando here is most dangerous."

A salon-owner in her thirties, who'd been watching the unfolding drama, dashes towards Margaret. "How did you manage to walk away from Bandele the lion?"

Margaret's surprised looks make way for awe. Could that have been the famed Bandele most ladies gossip about so passionately? She looks around for the white SUV which had since gone out of sight. Margaret once fancied dating him, even if her kwerekwere (foreigner) status kept her out of serious contention.

She now understands his haughtiness. This wasn't an ordinary road-user. The landlord of Polemann was being nice by offering her a lift. And judging from the humble manner he asked, he doesn't discriminate based on ethnicity or nationality, unlike the tribal jingoist image people paint of him.

Regrets fill Margaret's mind for missing the opportunity to mingle with the richest man in the neighbourhood. Of course, she won't just enter the vehicle, they'll discuss. She'll pose around with him and take a selfie or two, with which she'll brag to ever-scorning neighbours. And even to Sheline who has yet to see a man with her.

"I didn't know that was Bandele, the owner of the Polemann Castle." Margaret's lower lip extends downwards. "But he doesn't look wicked like people say. I only walked away because we're not going far."

"Well, you and your sister had better hide yourselves for some time until he forgets this disrespect. I'm sure he wants to date you or your sister." The lady flaps envy-laden eyes at Sheline. "Hmm!"

"I'm too old for such games," Margaret says, waving a dismissive hand. "And my niece is still new. Besides, she's married."

"Bandele doesn't care whether you're married or not. Once he's interested in you, his dogs will come running after you. Beware!"

The lady returns to her hairdressing salon.

Margaret reflects on the unsolicited advice which sounds like a warning from a caring neighbour. Ordinarily, these people won't bother to say such some weeks back. Are they jealous that Bandele stopped by to offer her a lift? Truly, the man might be interested in her or Sheline. He kept peering at her niece while talking.

Going into hiding because of Bandele sounds funny. Even if people have had horrible encounters with him, she won't start living in fear for some spurious reasons. She's been around long enough to caution bullies. Her concerns are for Sheline who is already shaken. But a journalism student at a university should know how to conduct herself in public. Isn't this one of the situations they face in the field?