Woke up terribly sick. So weak I am unable to move or even scream. It was all so sudden.
Went to bed feeling strong and well.
How did all this begin?
I tried to sit up, with great difficulty. Perhaps it was malaria.
All over the room, I vomit, having no strength to go to the washroom to defecate. Forced to let it all out on the floor of the room.
This disadvantages of living alone.
I had gone to bed a human, and woken up a miserable animal.
How fragile this life is.
I try to make a phone call and realized I was out of airtime.
Times were not good. Low on cash.
How do I call for help? Where do I get money for drugs and food?
Is my time up?
Will I die here while far from home and my family might never know what happened to me?
I pray for mercy with every fibre of last strength I could gather, while crawling painfully slowly to the door.
Heard of stories in my childhood where people had gone on a long journey, never bothered to return to see their family back home and the many sad things that had befallen their families behind them.
In such stories, there was a bird on a rooftop that sang to the travelers the woes that had befallen their loved ones, prompting them to go home and repair broken family walls.
Here I was, with no bird to tell me exactly what was going on back home while I am blacking out.
No bird will go to my family to tell them I might not make it home.
I think about all the struggles I’ve been through till that moment, always hoping for a brighter future, wondering if this is the permanent bus stop for all the struggle. Am I never going to see my dreams come true?
Strangely, I even began to see death appealing. An end to so much pain and struggle.
With tearful eyes I push on, crawling slowly to the door.
On a normal day, I would have made it to the door in seconds.
How we take so many things we can do for ourselves for granted.
I make it to the door, open it slightly just in time to catch a co-tenant bypassing my door.
It was an ex. We once dated but broke up. Wasn’t sure if I made the right decision or not. Should have allowed for some time before deciding.
Was I been punished for my evil ways?
In shame, I admitted I was unwell, so weak I couldn’t move.
I handed her a note from a pocket, indicating which drug I wanted and what food should be bought along with it. I wanted cheap malaria drugs. Couldn’t afford any of those expensive alternatives. I was sure it was malaria, though I hadn’t taken any test to confirm it.
She took the money, reluctantly, and went to get dressed before going to the main road to get the items for me.
While she was gone, I was contemplating her attitude. Did she think I was acting? Couldn’t she see the pain in my face?
Why that reluctance on her part to rush and get the medicines and food ready as soon as possible?
Was it because our relationship was breaking apart?
The drugs came after a long time. Or perhaps was it the pain that gave me the impression she had kept long?
I sat in my shit, forcing myself to swallow some of the food she brought and taking the first dose of the drug.
I lay down for a while, not remembering when I slept.
I woke up after some hours with renewed strength, although not complete. I could stand once again on my feet.
I cleaned the mess in my room, ate the rest of the food and went to take my shower.
Now I felt better.
In my heart, I promised to never forget the goodness and mercies of God in giving me back my life and strength after such a gloomy day through the valley of the shadow of death.
It’s a story, I will always share to remind people that God is good, no matter what happens to us.
Life is precious. We only see it when it is slipping out of our hands.
Email: Benjaminnambu1@gmail.com
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