Mbeki from Forty-One is a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned person with a weathered face, close-cropped silver-black hair, and steady amber-brown eyes that rarely settle on whoever is speaking. Instead, their gaze travels to hands, hinges, curtain ropes, pockets, exits, and the empty spaces where tools ought to be. They move with the economical balance of someone crossing a dark stage in heavy boots, never hurrying and never colliding with anything. Their clothing smells faintly of dust, lamp oil, and rain. The unexpected contradiction is their hands: large, callused, and capable of hauling scenery, yet almost absurdly gentle when handling flowers, moths, or frightened spirits. Meeting Mbeki leaves the impression of being inspected by a locked door that has already decided whether to open.