Her beauty is her major asset and yet her curse.She stares at the mirror with tears slowly filling her eyes. She wishes she could be dead but doesn’t have courage to do it. Something tells her it’s going to be alright. It fills her heart with hope, hope for a better day to come. This keeps her alive for one more day . All she has or achieved cannot be accredited to hard work. Even when she sweats, it’s a drip of honey. Tears keep her company in long showers. They are salty just like those of any other being. She lifts her head and faces directly at the shower. Perhaps it could drip salvation this one time. She lets it directly to her face, maybe the showers could wash away her memories. Bitter memories of guys who wanted to lay her to grant her success. She knew it was not the only way but she did it anyway. A fight against her horny seniors always got her losing almost everything. The guys who could help her had their sight narrowed to her pants. The women in charge dismissed her in the name of “her slutty” behavior. Their Jealousy ruin her life and so many others.
Two stripes appeared on the test Kit. She didn’t panic, no sign of the results could be read from her face. She remained calm and blank. “What are the results?” Inquired the medical personnel. “It reads positive.” She responded in a calm voice. She knew that she had the HIV virus and so was a large number of guys who slept with her to give what was rightly hers. It wasn’t going to kill her, that she was sure. Medical examinations had showed that she has closed cells and she only served as a carrier. The devils weapon of distraction. Her mother was dying and so was her father. Maybe the house girl had it too. Maybe the same courtesy was extended to the gardener or even the watchman. Maybe her two brothers and her sister were in the circle. Maybe, just maybe. If only her mother had listened! He was supposed to be her father. It hurts her too much and she hates men for that. Her mother warned her not to tell anyone on grounds of not tarnishing the family name. The same family was dead anyway. Maybe a few would remain if they kept their pants on.
He pins her hard on the bed as he concludes his intimate engagement. she doesn’t look at him. Her eyes are fixed on the mirror besides the bed. Plus one to her kills. One more she knows. She didn’t tell him to wear protection. It’s his life to save or to lose. His wife and concubines are welcome to join the circle. It doesn’t hunt her. He is paying for his sins with his blood. The remission of sin requires blood. This she learnt from her pastor. A man of god who is weak in flesh. He fell to the world just like other sinful men. She knows them by name and wrote them in a small book with a red hard cover. They were all victims of the flesh.
The waiter brings two more beers on her her table. She doesn’t recall asking for more and looks at the waiter curiously. He smiles and points at a guy seated at the far right corner who waves in acknowledgement. He is drinking a soda, neither does he look like a drinker. Maybe he gets ladies drunk and take them to bed to do his bidding. It doesn’t bother her, she has nothing to lose. He takes his glass and a half empty soda bottle and proceeds to join her. She looks at the bottle and occasionally looks side ways. He smiles and she takes very short intervals looking at him. Not that shy look from innocent ladies. Seems like she doesn’t want to remember his face so that it doesn’t hunt her when he is gone. “I am Rev. Geoffrey Mulyawita,” he breaks the silence while extending his hand to shake hers. She doesn’t say anything and leaves his hand hanging in the air. He draws back his hand and moves slightly to sit directly opposite to her. She lifts her head and notices the collar. Confusion fills her face and she seems lost. she doesn’t seem to find herself.
She had judged him wrongly. He wasn’t the type that wanted to take her to bed. This she was sure. She saw the concern on his face and something like a sword with two sharp edges cut through her heart. She started crying, not the tears of venges but those of remorse. he held her hand and stated that he was passing by and something that he cannot explain led him to take a soda in this particular pub. Now he understood why as she narrated her story. The two left the filthy pub that evening with the same goal in mind that is to give her a second chance in life.
As I tell this story, there is clearly one question in mind. Is it an everyday story to a listening ear or will it some how impact someone to make a change? I refuse to be a part of a cartel that ruins ones dreams for personal gains. I rest my case.
Discover your world in a Rhythm 