victoria island
of busy roads
and high towers
of sands
and waters
witnesses
to dreams chased
lived
and lost
Tuesday 24 February 2015
Tuesday 17 February 2015
The Last Straw
“You're not listening, Tola!”
He tried to grab the phone from her but she pushed his arm away.
“I said we need to define our relationship. This whole thing isn’t making sense anymore,” Donald continued.
Tola sat still, clutching her phone. Her face was blank. Donald moved closer. He gazed at her. Since the day she told him she was diagnosed of asthma, she hadn't been herself, she had changed, but Donald could not say exactly how.
‘”I love you, Tola, I love you so much can’t you see? I want you in my life, the whole of you.”
With a vacant look, she asked:
“Do you know what love is?”
Donald sat back, puzzled.
“I ask you, D, what is love?” she repeated staring blankly into distance.
Donald wiped his face. He was confused. What is she on about? He thought. They had been friends for almost a year. He had given up so much for her: he had stopped going to clubs and parties, he'd been baptized and became a practicing Catholic. He even went for confession every weekend so Tola would be proud of him when she saw him join the queue of the ‘faithful’ to receive Holy Communion on Sundays. He made sure he didn't call her at 3pm, because he knew she would be absorbed in her Divine Mercy prayers.
The few times he had convinced her to spend the weekend at his place, the furthest they went was a peck. The last time he tried to steal a kiss playfully, she slapped him in the face to remind him the boundary. Nevertheless, he loved her. True they weren’t exactly dating, but Donald knew life would only be meaningless if he didn’t have Tola to share it with. She was the world, his world.
“Look at you, you speak of love but you don’t know what it is,” Tola continued. “Is it because you feel those silly butterflies in your tummy when you are with me? Or because you've given up your bad habits to make me happy? You think you are in love. What is love, Donald? Tell me, what is love?” She suddenly burst into tears.
Confused, Donald held her in his arms. He made sure he didn't grip her too tightly, he knew she despised that. Then soflty, like a whisper, he replied “Love is you, baby. Love is you and you are love.”
Tola sniffed and pushed him off gently. Without a word, she walked away from him. His eyes followed her to the bathroom and he heaved a sigh of relief. He toyed with the box-shaped object in his pocket, begging to be let out.
I'm going to ask her to marry me as soon as she comes out . Donald thought. He loved her and wanted her to be his wife. The bathroom door creaked open and he composed himself. Tola walked in unruffled, her tear stained face strangely pale. She sat next to him and took his hand.
“At eighteen,” she began. “I lost my mother. When my mother died, a part of me went down into the grave with her. I tried to be strong for my father but he was broken, he blamed himself for not having the money to fly her abroad for treatment,” her voice cracked, but she continued.
“Anyway, he took to waywardness and eventually lost his job. There were no relatives to turn to. I was helpless...” Tola trailed off and began to sob.
Donald was getting impatient. She had told him the sad story of her life a million times. Where is she going with all this? he thought.
“That's all in the past Tola. I love you and that’s all that matters now,” he said. He looked at her and although he wasn't sure if the time was right, he put his hand into his pocket and brought out the box.
“Tola, will you marry me?”
Tola smiled through her tears and shook her head. She resumed her tale, leaving Donald feeling stupid and more confused than ever.
“One night, my father came home drunk. The neighbours were dead asleep. He was staggering all over the place and I had to help him to his room,” Tola paused and took a breath. “As I turned to go back into my room,” she continued quietly, “he pulled me back...and he raped me.”
The box fell from Donald’s trembling hand. Reeling from the shock, he tried to gather himself. “Tola...” he stuttered. “Y-y-you never told me any of that.” But Tola hadn’t finished yet.
“I packed my things and left the house,” she sniffed. “I squatted with different friends for a time. I started to feel sick, but I assumed it was due to the constant moving...A friend eventually persuaded me to see a doctor.”
Donald looked at the ground, terrified to hear what she would say next.
“I tested positive for HIV. My father must have had it,” she said.
Donald froze. He thought of many times he had tried to cajole her into sleeping with him and how she fought him so viciously, as if her life would end the moment they had sex. He thought of those times she locked herself in the bathroom taking the so-called 'pills for asthma.' He thought of her strict, unimaginable rules: no kissing, no eating from the same plate, no sharing of anything whatsoever. He should have known, he should have understood.
Tola smiled sadly, “So Donald, I ask you, what is love? Do you still love me? Do you still want to marry me?”
Her eyes were filled with tears. Donald looked up at her, he had never been more confused in his life. “One year, Tola,” he said. “One year we’ve known each other and you never said anything? Why?”
She looked to the floor, “I'm sorry,” she mumbled.
Donald grabbed her and held her tightly. “You should have told me,” he said softly.
Tola felt her body slump as she tried to fight back tears. She couldn't allow herself to hope that Donald could love her in that way anymore. She knew in her heart that he would leave her forever, and she couldn't blame him. She would do the same if she were in his shoes. She allowed herself to relax, to enjoy their last embrace, before he walked out of her life for good.
Donald broke the hug and picked up the box from the ground.
He looked at Tola and said “You are still my world, Tola, my love, my life.” He opened the box and slipped the ring on her finger.
***
Poor Tola wiped her face with her already sodden handkerchief. The thought of her good times with Donald saddened her. Two years had gone by since Donald married her despite her ailment. He had grown wearied overtime with the dos and don’ts of living with a person with the HIV virus. What was left of him was mere sympathy for Tola. His undying love for her had long drowned in the misery of her reality. Sitting on the bed just like she sat that day two years ago, she watched his reflection on the mirror as he struggled to loosen a stubborn tie on his neck. They had just had one of their frequent brawls. In a bid to break the silence, she said
“My only happiness is that you knew. I told you everything, D. I didn’t force you to stay. You could have walked away then like I thought you would. But you stayed only to cause me greater miser…”
“Just shut up, Tola!” Donald cut in facing her. “You want to lecture me on misery? Do you know what I pass through daily? The burden of keeping your status a secret is tearing me apart. The fact that we may not bear our own children alongside mama’s nags is killing me. Your constant sulking, the helplessness of the situation is enough misery. I’m just a miserable man!” He rasped, adding softly “all because I chose to love you, Tola.”
Rapid tears ran down Tola’s cheeks. Her drained eyes darted about, seeking for something to take their attention off the monster facing them. Donald moved to the bed and sat close her. Taking her arm into his, like he did two years ago in his marriage proposal to her, he said,
“I’ve always loved you, baby. You know how much I’ve given up for your sake. Please try to understand me. I’m human and sometimes I get fed up. Forgive me dear.”
She shoved her head into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her back, stroking her hair.
“She’s moving in tomorrow”, he mumbled.
Tola lifted her herself slowly from his hairy chest, the word dropping on its own, “who?”
“The rumours are true, Tola. I’ve been seeing her for over three months. She’s heavy with my child. She’s moving in tomorrow.”
Tola sat motionless. Memories of her depressed childhood came rushing to her mind. Donald had been her only saviour from suicide. Her only reason for sticking to life. If only he had left then, she thought.
“I’m truly sorry, Tee”, said Donald not knowing the effect his words already had on her. "I'm sorry", he mutterrd again. Then shocked at her calmness, he ran his fingers through what turned out to be a stiff body and called out, “Baby?”
Tola fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
What do you think about Donald's decision? Would you stay with Tola? Tweet or Facebook us and let us know!
He tried to grab the phone from her but she pushed his arm away.
“I said we need to define our relationship. This whole thing isn’t making sense anymore,” Donald continued.
Tola sat still, clutching her phone. Her face was blank. Donald moved closer. He gazed at her. Since the day she told him she was diagnosed of asthma, she hadn't been herself, she had changed, but Donald could not say exactly how.
‘”I love you, Tola, I love you so much can’t you see? I want you in my life, the whole of you.”
With a vacant look, she asked:
“Do you know what love is?”
Donald sat back, puzzled.
“I ask you, D, what is love?” she repeated staring blankly into distance.
Donald wiped his face. He was confused. What is she on about? He thought. They had been friends for almost a year. He had given up so much for her: he had stopped going to clubs and parties, he'd been baptized and became a practicing Catholic. He even went for confession every weekend so Tola would be proud of him when she saw him join the queue of the ‘faithful’ to receive Holy Communion on Sundays. He made sure he didn't call her at 3pm, because he knew she would be absorbed in her Divine Mercy prayers.
The few times he had convinced her to spend the weekend at his place, the furthest they went was a peck. The last time he tried to steal a kiss playfully, she slapped him in the face to remind him the boundary. Nevertheless, he loved her. True they weren’t exactly dating, but Donald knew life would only be meaningless if he didn’t have Tola to share it with. She was the world, his world.
“Look at you, you speak of love but you don’t know what it is,” Tola continued. “Is it because you feel those silly butterflies in your tummy when you are with me? Or because you've given up your bad habits to make me happy? You think you are in love. What is love, Donald? Tell me, what is love?” She suddenly burst into tears.
Confused, Donald held her in his arms. He made sure he didn't grip her too tightly, he knew she despised that. Then soflty, like a whisper, he replied “Love is you, baby. Love is you and you are love.”
Tola sniffed and pushed him off gently. Without a word, she walked away from him. His eyes followed her to the bathroom and he heaved a sigh of relief. He toyed with the box-shaped object in his pocket, begging to be let out.
I'm going to ask her to marry me as soon as she comes out . Donald thought. He loved her and wanted her to be his wife. The bathroom door creaked open and he composed himself. Tola walked in unruffled, her tear stained face strangely pale. She sat next to him and took his hand.
“At eighteen,” she began. “I lost my mother. When my mother died, a part of me went down into the grave with her. I tried to be strong for my father but he was broken, he blamed himself for not having the money to fly her abroad for treatment,” her voice cracked, but she continued.
“Anyway, he took to waywardness and eventually lost his job. There were no relatives to turn to. I was helpless...” Tola trailed off and began to sob.
Donald was getting impatient. She had told him the sad story of her life a million times. Where is she going with all this? he thought.
“That's all in the past Tola. I love you and that’s all that matters now,” he said. He looked at her and although he wasn't sure if the time was right, he put his hand into his pocket and brought out the box.
“Tola, will you marry me?”
Tola smiled through her tears and shook her head. She resumed her tale, leaving Donald feeling stupid and more confused than ever.
“One night, my father came home drunk. The neighbours were dead asleep. He was staggering all over the place and I had to help him to his room,” Tola paused and took a breath. “As I turned to go back into my room,” she continued quietly, “he pulled me back...and he raped me.”
The box fell from Donald’s trembling hand. Reeling from the shock, he tried to gather himself. “Tola...” he stuttered. “Y-y-you never told me any of that.” But Tola hadn’t finished yet.
“I packed my things and left the house,” she sniffed. “I squatted with different friends for a time. I started to feel sick, but I assumed it was due to the constant moving...A friend eventually persuaded me to see a doctor.”
Donald looked at the ground, terrified to hear what she would say next.
“I tested positive for HIV. My father must have had it,” she said.
Donald froze. He thought of many times he had tried to cajole her into sleeping with him and how she fought him so viciously, as if her life would end the moment they had sex. He thought of those times she locked herself in the bathroom taking the so-called 'pills for asthma.' He thought of her strict, unimaginable rules: no kissing, no eating from the same plate, no sharing of anything whatsoever. He should have known, he should have understood.
Tola smiled sadly, “So Donald, I ask you, what is love? Do you still love me? Do you still want to marry me?”
Her eyes were filled with tears. Donald looked up at her, he had never been more confused in his life. “One year, Tola,” he said. “One year we’ve known each other and you never said anything? Why?”
She looked to the floor, “I'm sorry,” she mumbled.
Donald grabbed her and held her tightly. “You should have told me,” he said softly.
Tola felt her body slump as she tried to fight back tears. She couldn't allow herself to hope that Donald could love her in that way anymore. She knew in her heart that he would leave her forever, and she couldn't blame him. She would do the same if she were in his shoes. She allowed herself to relax, to enjoy their last embrace, before he walked out of her life for good.
Donald broke the hug and picked up the box from the ground.
He looked at Tola and said “You are still my world, Tola, my love, my life.” He opened the box and slipped the ring on her finger.
***
Poor Tola wiped her face with her already sodden handkerchief. The thought of her good times with Donald saddened her. Two years had gone by since Donald married her despite her ailment. He had grown wearied overtime with the dos and don’ts of living with a person with the HIV virus. What was left of him was mere sympathy for Tola. His undying love for her had long drowned in the misery of her reality. Sitting on the bed just like she sat that day two years ago, she watched his reflection on the mirror as he struggled to loosen a stubborn tie on his neck. They had just had one of their frequent brawls. In a bid to break the silence, she said
“My only happiness is that you knew. I told you everything, D. I didn’t force you to stay. You could have walked away then like I thought you would. But you stayed only to cause me greater miser…”
“Just shut up, Tola!” Donald cut in facing her. “You want to lecture me on misery? Do you know what I pass through daily? The burden of keeping your status a secret is tearing me apart. The fact that we may not bear our own children alongside mama’s nags is killing me. Your constant sulking, the helplessness of the situation is enough misery. I’m just a miserable man!” He rasped, adding softly “all because I chose to love you, Tola.”
Rapid tears ran down Tola’s cheeks. Her drained eyes darted about, seeking for something to take their attention off the monster facing them. Donald moved to the bed and sat close her. Taking her arm into his, like he did two years ago in his marriage proposal to her, he said,
“I’ve always loved you, baby. You know how much I’ve given up for your sake. Please try to understand me. I’m human and sometimes I get fed up. Forgive me dear.”
She shoved her head into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her back, stroking her hair.
“She’s moving in tomorrow”, he mumbled.
Tola lifted her herself slowly from his hairy chest, the word dropping on its own, “who?”
“The rumours are true, Tola. I’ve been seeing her for over three months. She’s heavy with my child. She’s moving in tomorrow.”
Tola sat motionless. Memories of her depressed childhood came rushing to her mind. Donald had been her only saviour from suicide. Her only reason for sticking to life. If only he had left then, she thought.
“I’m truly sorry, Tee”, said Donald not knowing the effect his words already had on her. "I'm sorry", he mutterrd again. Then shocked at her calmness, he ran his fingers through what turned out to be a stiff body and called out, “Baby?”
Tola fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
What do you think about Donald's decision? Would you stay with Tola? Tweet or Facebook us and let us know!
The Last Straw
“You're not listening, Tola!”
He tried to grab the phone from her but she pushed his arm away.
“I said we need to define our relationship. This whole thing isn’t making sense anymore,” Donald continued.
Tola sat still, clutching her phone. Her face was blank. Donald moved closer. He gazed at her. Since the day she told him she was diagnosed of asthma, she hadn't been herself, she had changed, but Donald could not say exactly how.
‘”I love you, Tola, I love you so much can’t you see? I want you in my life, the whole of you.”
With a vacant look, she asked:
“Do you know what love is?”
Donald sat back, puzzled.
“I ask you, D, what is love?” she repeated staring blankly into distance.
Donald wiped his face. He was confused. What is she on about? He thought. They had been friends for almost a year. He had given up so much for her: he had stopped going to clubs and parties, he'd been baptized and became a practicing Catholic. He even went for confession every weekend so Tola would be proud of him when she saw him join the queue of the ‘faithful’ to receive Holy Communion on Sundays. He made sure he didn't call her at 3pm, because he knew she would be absorbed in her Divine Mercy prayers.
The few times he had convinced her to spend the weekend at his place, the furthest they went was a peck. The last time he tried to steal a kiss playfully, she slapped him in the face to remind him the boundary. Nevertheless, he loved her. True they weren’t exactly dating, but Donald knew life would only be meaningless if he didn’t have Tola to share it with. She was the world, his world.
“Look at you, you speak of love but you don’t know what it is,” Tola continued. “Is it because you feel those silly butterflies in your tummy when you are with me? Or because you've given up your bad habits to make me happy? You think you are in love. What is love, Donald? Tell me, what is love?” She suddenly burst into tears.
Confused, Donald held her in his arms. He made sure he didn't grip her too tightly, he knew she despised that. Then soflty, like a whisper, he replied “Love is you, baby. Love is you and you are love.”
Tola sniffed and pushed him off gently. Without a word, she walked away from him. His eyes followed her to the bathroom and he heaved a sigh of relief. He toyed with the box-shaped object in his pocket, begging to be let out.
I'm going to ask her to marry me as soon as she comes out . Donald thought. He loved her and wanted her to be his wife. The bathroom door creaked open and he composed himself. Tola walked in unruffled, her tear stained face strangely pale. She sat next to him and took his hand.
“At eighteen,” she began. “I lost my mother. When my mother died, a part of me went down into the grave with her. I tried to be strong for my father but he was broken, he blamed himself for not having the money to fly her abroad for treatment,” her voice cracked, but she continued.
“Anyway, he took to waywardness and eventually lost his job. There were no relatives to turn to. I was helpless...” Tola trailed off and began to sob.
Donald was getting impatient. She had told him the sad story of her life a million times. Where is she going with all this? he thought.
“That's all in the past Tola. I love you and that’s all that matters now,” he said. He looked at her and although he wasn't sure if the time was right, he put his hand into his pocket and brought out the box.
“Tola, will you marry me?”
Tola smiled through her tears and shook her head. She resumed her tale, leaving Donald feeling stupid and more confused than ever.
“One night, my father came home drunk. The neighbours were dead asleep. He was staggering all over the place and I had to help him to his room,” Tola paused and took a breath. “As I turned to go back into my room,” she continued quietly, “he pulled me back...and he raped me.”
The box fell from Donald’s trembling hand. Reeling from the shock, he tried to gather himself. “Tola...” he stuttered. “Y-y-you never told me any of that.” But Tola hadn’t finished yet.
“I packed my things and left the house,” she sniffed. “I squatted with different friends for a time. I started to feel sick, but I assumed it was due to the constant moving...A friend eventually persuaded me to see a doctor.”
Donald looked at the ground, terrified to hear what she would say next.
“I tested positive for HIV. My father must have had it,” she said.
Donald froze. He thought of many times he had tried to cajole her into sleeping with him and how she fought him so viciously, as if her life would end the moment they had sex. He thought of those times she locked herself in the bathroom taking the so-called 'pills for asthma.' He thought of her strict, unimaginable rules: no kissing, no eating from the same plate, no sharing of anything whatsoever. He should have known, he should have understood.
Tola smiled sadly, “So Donald, I ask you, what is love? Do you still love me? Do you still want to marry me?”
Her eyes were filled with tears. Donald looked up at her, he had never been more confused in his life. “One year, Tola,” he said. “One year we’ve known each other and you never said anything? Why?”
She looked to the floor, “I'm sorry,” she mumbled.
Donald grabbed her and held her tightly. “You should have told me,” he said softly.
Tola felt her body slump as she tried to fight back tears. She couldn't allow herself to hope that Donald could love her in that way anymore. She knew in her heart that he would leave her forever, and she couldn't blame him. She would do the same if she were in his shoes. She allowed herself to relax, to enjoy their last embrace, before he walked out of her life for good.
Donald broke the hug and picked up the box from the ground.
He looked at Tola and said “You are still my world, Tola, my love, my life.” He opened the box and slipped the ring on her finger.
***
Poor Tola wiped her face with her already sodden handkerchief. The thought of her good times with Donald saddened her. Two years had gone by since Donald married her despite her ailment. He had grown wearied overtime with the dos and don’ts of living with a person with the HIV virus. What was left of him was mere sympathy for Tola. His undying love for her had long drowned in the misery of her reality. Sitting on the bed just like she sat that day two years ago, she watched his reflection on the mirror as he struggled to loosen a stubborn tie on his neck. They had just had one of their frequent brawls. In a bid to break the silence, she said
“My only happiness is that you knew. I told you everything, D. I didn’t force you to stay. You could have walked away then like I thought you would. But you stayed only to cause me greater miser…”
“Just shut up, Tola!” Donald cut in facing her. “You want to lecture me on misery? Do you know what I pass through daily? The burden of keeping your status a secret is tearing me apart. The fact that we may not bear our own children alongside mama’s nags is killing me. Your constant sulking, the helplessness of the situation is enough misery. I’m just a miserable man!” He rasped, adding softly “all because I chose to love you, Tola.”
Rapid tears ran down Tola’s cheeks. Her drained eyes darted about, seeking for something to take their attention off the monster facing them. Donald moved to the bed and sat close her. Taking her arm into his, like he did two years ago in his marriage proposal to her, he said,
“I’ve always loved you, baby. You know how much I’ve given up for your sake. Please try to understand me. I’m human and sometimes I get fed up. Forgive me dear.”
She shoved her head into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her back, stroking her hair.
“She’s moving in tomorrow”, he mumbled.
Tola lifted her herself slowly from his hairy chest, the word dropping on its own, “who?”
“The rumours are true, Tola. I’ve been seeing her for over three months. She’s heavy with my child. She’s moving in tomorrow.”
Tola sat motionless. Memories of her dispressed childhood came rushing to her mind. Donald had been her only saviour from suicide. Her only reason for sticking to life. If only he had left then, she thought.
“I’m truly sorry, Tee”, said Donald not knowing the effect his words already had on her. "I'm sorry", he mutterrd again. Then shocked at her calmness, he ran his fingers through what turned out to be a stiff body and called out, “Baby?”
Tola fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
What do you think about Donald's decision? Would you stay with Tola? Tweet or Facebook us and let us know!
He tried to grab the phone from her but she pushed his arm away.
“I said we need to define our relationship. This whole thing isn’t making sense anymore,” Donald continued.
Tola sat still, clutching her phone. Her face was blank. Donald moved closer. He gazed at her. Since the day she told him she was diagnosed of asthma, she hadn't been herself, she had changed, but Donald could not say exactly how.
‘”I love you, Tola, I love you so much can’t you see? I want you in my life, the whole of you.”
With a vacant look, she asked:
“Do you know what love is?”
Donald sat back, puzzled.
“I ask you, D, what is love?” she repeated staring blankly into distance.
Donald wiped his face. He was confused. What is she on about? He thought. They had been friends for almost a year. He had given up so much for her: he had stopped going to clubs and parties, he'd been baptized and became a practicing Catholic. He even went for confession every weekend so Tola would be proud of him when she saw him join the queue of the ‘faithful’ to receive Holy Communion on Sundays. He made sure he didn't call her at 3pm, because he knew she would be absorbed in her Divine Mercy prayers.
The few times he had convinced her to spend the weekend at his place, the furthest they went was a peck. The last time he tried to steal a kiss playfully, she slapped him in the face to remind him the boundary. Nevertheless, he loved her. True they weren’t exactly dating, but Donald knew life would only be meaningless if he didn’t have Tola to share it with. She was the world, his world.
“Look at you, you speak of love but you don’t know what it is,” Tola continued. “Is it because you feel those silly butterflies in your tummy when you are with me? Or because you've given up your bad habits to make me happy? You think you are in love. What is love, Donald? Tell me, what is love?” She suddenly burst into tears.
Confused, Donald held her in his arms. He made sure he didn't grip her too tightly, he knew she despised that. Then soflty, like a whisper, he replied “Love is you, baby. Love is you and you are love.”
Tola sniffed and pushed him off gently. Without a word, she walked away from him. His eyes followed her to the bathroom and he heaved a sigh of relief. He toyed with the box-shaped object in his pocket, begging to be let out.
I'm going to ask her to marry me as soon as she comes out . Donald thought. He loved her and wanted her to be his wife. The bathroom door creaked open and he composed himself. Tola walked in unruffled, her tear stained face strangely pale. She sat next to him and took his hand.
“At eighteen,” she began. “I lost my mother. When my mother died, a part of me went down into the grave with her. I tried to be strong for my father but he was broken, he blamed himself for not having the money to fly her abroad for treatment,” her voice cracked, but she continued.
“Anyway, he took to waywardness and eventually lost his job. There were no relatives to turn to. I was helpless...” Tola trailed off and began to sob.
Donald was getting impatient. She had told him the sad story of her life a million times. Where is she going with all this? he thought.
“That's all in the past Tola. I love you and that’s all that matters now,” he said. He looked at her and although he wasn't sure if the time was right, he put his hand into his pocket and brought out the box.
“Tola, will you marry me?”
Tola smiled through her tears and shook her head. She resumed her tale, leaving Donald feeling stupid and more confused than ever.
“One night, my father came home drunk. The neighbours were dead asleep. He was staggering all over the place and I had to help him to his room,” Tola paused and took a breath. “As I turned to go back into my room,” she continued quietly, “he pulled me back...and he raped me.”
The box fell from Donald’s trembling hand. Reeling from the shock, he tried to gather himself. “Tola...” he stuttered. “Y-y-you never told me any of that.” But Tola hadn’t finished yet.
“I packed my things and left the house,” she sniffed. “I squatted with different friends for a time. I started to feel sick, but I assumed it was due to the constant moving...A friend eventually persuaded me to see a doctor.”
Donald looked at the ground, terrified to hear what she would say next.
“I tested positive for HIV. My father must have had it,” she said.
Donald froze. He thought of many times he had tried to cajole her into sleeping with him and how she fought him so viciously, as if her life would end the moment they had sex. He thought of those times she locked herself in the bathroom taking the so-called 'pills for asthma.' He thought of her strict, unimaginable rules: no kissing, no eating from the same plate, no sharing of anything whatsoever. He should have known, he should have understood.
Tola smiled sadly, “So Donald, I ask you, what is love? Do you still love me? Do you still want to marry me?”
Her eyes were filled with tears. Donald looked up at her, he had never been more confused in his life. “One year, Tola,” he said. “One year we’ve known each other and you never said anything? Why?”
She looked to the floor, “I'm sorry,” she mumbled.
Donald grabbed her and held her tightly. “You should have told me,” he said softly.
Tola felt her body slump as she tried to fight back tears. She couldn't allow herself to hope that Donald could love her in that way anymore. She knew in her heart that he would leave her forever, and she couldn't blame him. She would do the same if she were in his shoes. She allowed herself to relax, to enjoy their last embrace, before he walked out of her life for good.
Donald broke the hug and picked up the box from the ground.
He looked at Tola and said “You are still my world, Tola, my love, my life.” He opened the box and slipped the ring on her finger.
***
Poor Tola wiped her face with her already sodden handkerchief. The thought of her good times with Donald saddened her. Two years had gone by since Donald married her despite her ailment. He had grown wearied overtime with the dos and don’ts of living with a person with the HIV virus. What was left of him was mere sympathy for Tola. His undying love for her had long drowned in the misery of her reality. Sitting on the bed just like she sat that day two years ago, she watched his reflection on the mirror as he struggled to loosen a stubborn tie on his neck. They had just had one of their frequent brawls. In a bid to break the silence, she said
“My only happiness is that you knew. I told you everything, D. I didn’t force you to stay. You could have walked away then like I thought you would. But you stayed only to cause me greater miser…”
“Just shut up, Tola!” Donald cut in facing her. “You want to lecture me on misery? Do you know what I pass through daily? The burden of keeping your status a secret is tearing me apart. The fact that we may not bear our own children alongside mama’s nags is killing me. Your constant sulking, the helplessness of the situation is enough misery. I’m just a miserable man!” He rasped, adding softly “all because I chose to love you, Tola.”
Rapid tears ran down Tola’s cheeks. Her drained eyes darted about, seeking for something to take their attention off the monster facing them. Donald moved to the bed and sat close her. Taking her arm into his, like he did two years ago in his marriage proposal to her, he said,
“I’ve always loved you, baby. You know how much I’ve given up for your sake. Please try to understand me. I’m human and sometimes I get fed up. Forgive me dear.”
She shoved her head into his chest, sobbing. He wrapped his arm around her back, stroking her hair.
“She’s moving in tomorrow”, he mumbled.
Tola lifted her herself slowly from his hairy chest, the word dropping on its own, “who?”
“The rumours are true, Tola. I’ve been seeing her for over three months. She’s heavy with my child. She’s moving in tomorrow.”
Tola sat motionless. Memories of her dispressed childhood came rushing to her mind. Donald had been her only saviour from suicide. Her only reason for sticking to life. If only he had left then, she thought.
“I’m truly sorry, Tee”, said Donald not knowing the effect his words already had on her. "I'm sorry", he mutterrd again. Then shocked at her calmness, he ran his fingers through what turned out to be a stiff body and called out, “Baby?”
Tola fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
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Friday 13 February 2015
unnamed
i am the one
who must not be mentioned
i am the one
who must not be known
i am a secret
a whisper
just like my birth,
i die
unannounced
who must not be mentioned
i am the one
who must not be known
i am a secret
a whisper
just like my birth,
i die
unannounced
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