Sickness in a time of plague

Madanda was violently awakened by a not too familiar feeling.

There were hammers on all sides of the anvil that was his head; small trickles of sweat running with an urgency down his skin, less oxygen for him to breathe in the small flat.

“Ugh.” He remarked. 

This was not something he had any particular fondness with. Fever. He needed to up and go. It was Monday. He had appointments, assignments, reports, name it! His red curtains were glowing in the bright orange light of the early morning. He looked at his BlackBerry on the side of his bed looking for the time:

“7:05am!!?? Dang! Where did the time go?”

He lifted his huge torso off the damp red sheets and tried to make way to the bathroom. His legs were feeling heavy. His joints felt like they were pierced with 9 inch nails. Three steps and a lump formed in his throat. It was a salty feeling in his mouth. Suddenly his tummy pushed something back.

He darted to the toilet seat, opened his mouth and let out the barf. He was coughing and spitting, and coughing and spitting. After a while he stopped and looked…

“What the heck?!!”

Moving to the tap, to wash out his mouth, he looked into the mirror and was faced with something he had never seen before;

“Blood spew now red eyes? God, am I sick?”

Feeling an itch on his left shoulder, he began to scratch.

“A rash?!!”

His heart raced. He had seen the posters, the Ministry of Health notices, had listened to the adverts on the radio and everything felt like him right now.

He stared into the mirror riveted in thought and stance.

“What should I do? Tell someone I’m sick? Won’t they call the police and spray me with JIK and put me away?”

“What if I am not sick? What if it’s something that can be treated? What do I do?”

No sooner had the thought come than a violent feeling grasped his pelvis.

“Diarrhea?!!!”

“Damn it, I caught the disease!”

………………………………..

To be continued.

The Rain

The movie was over. The proverbial "film star" had saved the day with the last shot of his bullet. The credits began to rain down, not in drip drops as rain would from clouds, rather like the slide of a water drop upon the smooth face of glass.

I paused for a moment and then got up to line up with the rest of the movie watchers who now made small chatter about the funny bits of the movie, the sad ones and all you would expect of a tête-à-tête after a movie. It was eleven a.m. One needed to go home.

Down the steps, the escalator and as I approached the mall's exit, a cold chill, a soft breeze, a light drizzle. 'How wonderful!' I thought. Just the other day I was watching Singing in the Rain. Never mind I had not just been kissed, I had not just said goodnight to the woman of my dreams; no, I had just been dreaming about the night sky and if there were stars tonight, if perhaps I could use it as an excuse to send her a text.

There were no stars tonight. From where I was, all I could see were street lights, and car lights. No stars tonight. The little invisible fireflies were in my belly. That's why I had that smile on my face. And now this beautiful late night rain.

I promptly removed my umbrella and with ease and adoration entered the delightful light shower. I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face as my feet landed into the little puddles of water scattered all over the pavement. How I would have laughed if a moon had I seen! For a moment home escaped my thoughts, and I dissolved in the moment.

Yet, in the midst of the joy, childhood escape, trickled in a heaviness. Not of holding the umbrella for long, not for the distance from home, not from the closeness of the labour of the day but rather the presence of double sorrow, and half a joy. All the while I did think of she who I do not know, could not tell whether she thought of me.

I wanted to text her straight away but feared I should awake her from her endearing sleep. After all I asked myself, on this eleven a.m, few minutes from the middle hour, could she tally awake for a droplet of gilded lullaby from me?

Unsure; wishing her here, to dance with in the rain, but only moving with thoughts and un-drawn paintings of perfect night with soft falling rain, I turned to the pages once again, inking them with these very words thinking perhaps one day, tis a story she reads and will indeed reply "That very night, I wanted to dance in the rain with you".

Why am I smiling

And why do I sing?

Why does September 

Seem sunny as spring?

Why do I get up

Each morning and start?

Happy and head up 

With joy in my heart

Why is each new task

A trifle to do?

Because I am living

A life full of you.

Gene Kelly (Singin in the rain)

Shattered Glass (Dinah's Sorrow 2)

Good morning. Hope you are all well. I have attempted to follow up on Dinah's Sorrow, so this is the second part in the series.

***

Hillary's face was contorted. He simply couldn't believe it. Who did she think she was? The message on the phone read; "I gave birth to a baby boy. He looks like you. But I am not coming home. I'm not ready. I called Mom and she'll get me in the morning. We'll stay there for a while."

"The god-damn baby is mine...what right does she have to not come home with it?"

He threw the sheets to the side and got up. White sheets with pictures of pink roses. He put on the light switch and the darkness hurriedly left the room. He turned and looked at the woman in his bed.

It wasn't Dinah, no. It wasn't the wife of his youth. It was a strange woman lying there, smiling. Why was she smiling? He didn't love her. No. He just wanted a baby.

He walked to the bathroom to wash his face. He needed to think clearly. Dinah had finally given birth, moreover to a boy. He did not expect this. He thought the baby would not make it. That's why he did not go to the hospital with her last night. He was tired of having to go there each time only to be told the child was dead.
He had seen too many of his children die in her womb and would not witness this one too.

He scratched his head and looked straight into the mirror. The man on the other side looked like a maniac, there was rage boiling in his eyes. Who the hell was he? Not Hillary, no. This man was different, he wasn't the calm and peaceful Hillary known to many.

All of a sudden his fist landed into the mirror on the wall, shattering into pieces...His life.

---

"He wants to have a baby with me!"

Molly said.

"Girlfriend you must be joking. Do you even know the man?"

Tyra interjected.

"Shya, what's there to know? I've been with him for 2 months now and he loves me."

"You don't know that for sure. Just because he takes you to nice places? Moreover, I have heard stories about him..."

"Stories? About my man? Lies! Whoever is telling you those stories wants him for themselves."

"Molly, that man is married! Do you think you can find a single guy with such dime these days? I swear even the way he treats you..."

"What do you mean?"

"You're always going on dates with him to secluded locations, have you ever gone with him to a party or any social event?"

"Because he wants to know me better."

"Molly, open your eyes. I do not trust that guy, especially now that he says he wants a kid."

Molly looked at Tyra with disappointed eyes. She couldn't imagine that her best friend did not like her guy. Why? Whatever was she was saying was speculation and wasn't important. What mattered was that Hillary wanted a child. He was the man of her dreams. He was handsome, rich and cared immensely for her. She wanted him forever and a child would make that possible. But see, she did not suggest it, he did!

She had kept herself for the right man and had rejected small boys' approaches. All these boys wanted was pleasure, she wanted love. Hillary would give her love tonight.

Molly's auntie once told her that it was extremely important to save oneself for the right man because once a man slept with her, her blood would tie her to him forever. It was a marriage ceremony that was witnessed and affirmed by blood. She had to make the right decision.

Hillary was the right man.

---

She picked the phone.

"You're not going to your mother's. You're my wife and I am coming for you and my baby today!" Then it went off.

A cold wave swept through her...Hillary now sounded like a maniac.

---

Molly had got up to go to the bathroom but she saw the light in the kitchen on. She knew it was Hillary since he wasn't in bed. So she tip-toed wanting to sneak up on him and give him a kiss. As she tip-toed, she heard his voice on the phone and the last words she heard sent chills through her:

"...You're my wife and I am coming for you and my baby today."

"Wife? Baby? The man was married? Noo...but my sacred blood?!!"

The shock sent her sprawling onto the floor.

To be continued...

Dinah's sorrow. (Short story)

Lying down in the theatre with doctors pacing to and fro about her, she never would have imagined that she would be alone at this crucial moment. The pains in her womb were growing but she had no one to cry to. The angry nurses that surrounded her gave icy stares that in essence told her to shut up. All she could do was groan silently, avoiding to make too much noise.

Hillary was not here. He would have encouraged her but he had gone back home. He was very tired. He said the doctors were all she needed now. She refused to complain.

Dinah was out of school and married. She was working at a Telecom company. She was married to Hillary who once was the refuge she ran to. They had met during lunch hour fellowships at school and God had spoken to them in their dreams that they were meant to be together. So they had told everyone that they were meant to be forever. They received the blessings of the fellowship's Papa and Mama as well as the other brethren and proceeded into a loving relationship. At that time she was in second year and he had graduated and got a job in a private accounting firm. Things seemed rosy.

Dinah loved her mom very much, mostly due to the fact that she was her only child- the miracle child. Her mom had had 7 other births but had lost all of them at delivery- she had a condition of the uterus. Her mom had been married off at 14, even her mom before that, and her mom. The reason was that if they took long to give birth, they would end up without children. The uterus in their line aged very quickly.

Her mom gave birth to her at 20, a miracle considering she had lost 7 by then. She was at that time forsaken by the husband who had given up on her. He had got himself 4 other wives by then and had 3 children from each. She was scolded constantly by her rivals who were older. They scorned her because she was younger yet was infertile.

Growing up in such an environment developed a special bond between Dinah and her mom. By God's provision, she had managed to study at good schools, always on scholarship and always excelling. From Gayaza she went to MUK and studied Human Resource where she met Hillary.

Along the way, she had discovered that walking with God would save her from many troubles and thus she gave her life over to Him. He would guide her, protect her, comfort her, teach her and love her.

Then she met Hillary. He was amazing. He always reassured her when she was feeling sad, always reminded her to pray and trust God when things were going badly, generally he was a friend and a brother. He loved her for who she was.

After they both received visions from the LORD about each other, Dinah tried to be as open as she could to him. She began a habit of total trust and decided never to lie to him.

It was one evening as they talked about God's grace that she brought up a topic she was afraid of bringing up.

"Honey, I think we should pray."

"Pray for what in particular?" He asked.

"My womb."

"Your womb? "

He looked puzzled?

"We've never done that before? I mean yes we will want children but I do not think the time is yet right for us."

"I know. Just that it would be better if we did it earlier."

"Why? Is there a problem with your womb? But am I even the right person to talk to about this? Have you talked to pastor?"

"I haven't, I thought it was better if I talk to you first coz..."

He paused.

"What's wrong Dinah?"

She looked down, fear rising in her due to the words she would say awhile.

"My mom gave birth to me at twenty." She paused, instinctively waiting for him to ask a question.

"What's wrong with that? Mine gave birth to me at 18?"

"The thing is, I am an only child. She lost seven children before me. I was the only one that survived. She could not give birth beyond that. Her womb had grown old. I fear that even mine is..."

He was taken aback by the revelation.

"You mean you cannot...?"

For 180 seconds, Hillary did not speak. He thought of his family, it was big. He was the first born, probable heir to his Father. He had been a good first born, studied well, got a good job with good pay, looked after his brothers and sisters and did not waste time doing useless things like going to the club. He was a role model. He dreamed he would pass these values on to his son. His son...his son.. He would have a son of course, and he would have a son properly. He would never do it outside marriage, if he did what message would that send? Dinah would be a perfect wife and... mother...?? Her womb was decaying?!! But God showed him in a vision that she was the one! God surely wanted him to have children, did He not?

"I do not know. That's why I wanted us to pray."

"Pray?"

He had never thought that he ever would consider prayer a meaningless thing to do, yet now he asked himself what assurance prayer had for him. He was supposed to marry her and have children. An heir. What if he married her and the children never came?

"Get a hold of yourself man." He whispered to himself,

"Abraham got an heir at 100 years old. Trust God."

"Hillary, Hillary!" She shook him because he seemed lost.

"Sorry, yes?"

"I went to the gynaecologist recently and I did not get good news. They said, if this year passed, I would have no chance of giving birth and I did not want to pressure you into marriage...."

"Don't tell me this is how you tell me you want us to get married" He interrupted rudely,

"No, I just wanted you to know."

"I can't imagine this..."

"I told you because I think prayer is the only way out." As she said it she looked at him hoping she could see the affection that was always in his eyes. She searched but did not find it.

"You pray, I wasn't ready for this. I need to cool off." Then he walked away.

That moment changed their lives.


She was now agonising, the only thing being said in the room was the word "push". Sweat frolicked down her face, and she recalled the numerous times she was in this position, on their marriage bed trying to get a baby. He had married her a short while after their conversation but it seemed the only thing on his mind was sex. He wanted a child.

One day the look in his eye was terrifying, blood shot; he had taken a little more wine than he should. And he had pushed and pushed and pushed. In her eyes, Hillary did not exist, she saw a crazy man. In his eyes was no affection, only lust. It was then she realised, he was cheating on her.

This time the pain consumed her and she screamed.

"Push woman, he is coming! Push!"

At their home, in their bed, he was screaming too. She knew it.

Finally the baby came out. They told her he was perfect. She could not help crying yet her tears were mixed with pain and joy. She thanked God He had heard her prayer and given her and Hillary a child but she also knew this was not Hillary's only child. It was three years since their wedding and it is now that her womb was opened, healed, but wasn't it too late to salvage their marriage?

**********************************


Hi people, hope you enjoy that piece. Now, could someone let me know when and where Lantern Meet will next take place? Thanks.