Happy reading.
Chika walked into the health center as she usually does every month. Today, her mood was particularly somber. Most of the staff at the facility had become friendly with her; she was one of their favorite patients. One of the nurses named Eva who always checked Chika's vital signs at each visit, sensed the blue cloud hanging over her head and inquired what the matter was. "I've never seen you like this before, I'm here to listen if you need to talk" she said.
"It's a long story...a long, and sad story," Chika sighed.
"Well, I go on lunch break in a few minutes...I really do think you need to talk to someone" Eva wouldn't budge.
Chika obliged and after getting her medication, headed to a nearby restaurant with nurse Eva. Indeed, she knew that talking to someone would lighten the burden and heaviness in her heart.
She began to recant her story.
"It all started a little over two years ago. I had just written the JAMB examination and was eagerly awaiting my results. I was certain all the nights I spent burning the midnight oil wouldn't be in vain. I planned to study Accounting in the University and my dream job was to work with one of the leading international accounting firms. I had my life all figured out. The thought of living this dream was exhilarating and that pushed me to take my academics seriously right from high school. The results came out and to my utter dismay, I was 20 marks shy of the set cut-off point . I was devastated. I couldn't understand how this could have happened. I cried for days. My parents did their best to console me as most loving parents would. My father's advice was that I sit out another year at home then retake the JAMB exam. Afterall, I was just 17 years old, age was still working in my favour, he had said. "You could use the year to do so many meaningful things. Learn a skill or craft, discover new passions. There are so many possibilities," my mother opined. I didn't want to hear any of that. "I will go to the University this year at all costs," I echoed to myself over and over. There was no way I'd be stuck at home for another year while my peers were at school...no way!
A few days after this, I went to one of the schools I had hoped to gain admission into. I decided I would beg, cry, or even make up whatever story I could in order to garner sympathy from them. I went to the Admissions office and the first person I spoke with was a seemingly friendly, sympathetic man who revealed he was the secretary to the head of the unit and could help me. His name was Bayo Cole. My heart leaped. I cooked up a story about being severely ill on exam day, which affected my performance. I told him I could get a medical report from the doctor to backup my story. Mr. Cole instructed me to bring the report in two days and he'd take me to see the person in charge of admissions.
On the said day, I got to Mr. Cole's office with the report which I fraudulently got from a lab-technician around my neighborhood. Cole invited me into another office where I was asked to wait until I was cleared to see the boss. He left and returned about 30 minutes later, but this time there was something different about his disposition. He was harsh, and brazen. He ordered me to get up...I obeyed, but started to feel frightened. My throat became lumpy as he started towards me. I sensed something bad was about to happen. I tried to make for the door, but he (unknown to me) had locked it. Before I could scream, he placed a gag over my mouth, tied my hands together behind my back and threw me on the floor. I was petrified. I kicked and kicked but he overpowered me. Tears begun to fill the corners of my eyes as he came down on me. Bayo Cole raped me! I was screaming but the gag drowned out my voice. As I lay helpless, I remembered the advice my parents gave me and how adamant and stubborn I was. Tears were flowing down my face like a waterfall. When he was done, he untied and ungagged me and said "fix yourself up!" When I was done rearranging my clothes, he grabbed my throat and threatened "if what happened here today goes public, you're dead...do you hear me...dead! Remember, I've got your house address." He opened the door and I walked out of that office...and ran as fast as I could away from that campus, straight home.
I didn't tell my parents or anyone about what happened. Instead, I found ways to deal with the trauma on my own. I'd always been a resilient soul, so I figured "i'll get over this in no time." I informed my father I would take his advice and rewrite the exam the following year.
Life seemed to take on a semblance of normalcy as the weeks passed by.
However, things took a turn for the worse a few months later. I started to fall sick and was in and out of hospital. Various medical tests were carried out, but no diagnosis could be made. We tried another hospital and the chief medical officer there suggested to my parents that an HIV test be done. I was unaware of what the doctor recommended. My mother insisted against it, as far as she was concerned, her daughter was a Virgin. There was no way on earth she'd have HIV. But my father consented and the test was carried out.
I still remember how long and hard I cried the day my parents sat me down to inform me that I was HIV positive and did infact have AIDS. My mother was crushed...all she could do was ask me repeatedly..."why?" My father was livid. Our family was thrown into confusion and sadness. That was the worst day of my life...yes! it was worse than the day I was raped."
At this point, nurse Eva was in tears...she had never known how Chika had contracted the virus. She had never asked. Her heart was filled with so much sympathy for the young lady.
Chika continued her story. "The doctors at that hospital ordered that I immediately begin anti-retroviral treatment and that the drugs are available at the city's WHO-funded Health Center at no cost. I was also given a diet-plan I was to adhere to strictly. Medical counselors gave my parents all the useful information on how to provide a good support system for me at home. Eventually, I told my parents how I had been raped and threatened not to speak up about it. My father took the matter to the relevant authorities, but we found out that Bayo Cole had succumbed to HIV/AIDS...he died a month before I was diagnosed.
Today marks exactly two years since I found out I had HIV. On my way to the centre this morning, I couldn't help but recollect my life over the past two years. I remembered the dreams I had for myself and how one foolish decision I made to go to that campus sparked a chain of events that led me to where I am now. Never did I imagine i'd be a person living with HIV. I can't help but wish I had heeded my parents advice from the beginning. If only I had listened to them, if only I hadn't been so stubborn. If only, if only...."
Chika broke down and cried uncontrollably and Eva moved over to her side to console her.
Koko Wanjiru Ekpo
Copyright 2015
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