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'Are you his wife?' the doctor asked me, after Jide had been admitted into the ward. I paused. 'His girlfriend,' I replied, looking away. "Are you aware of his 'condition'?" he continued. I could sense the dilemma in his voice. 'Yes. We both have HIV but he has refused to take his drugs for some time now.' 'Why? How long?'he asked, looking concerned. 'One year,' I replied. 'For no good reason.' I called a friend to help me drop off Victory at the hospital after school. 'V-baby!' I beamed, as she ran towards me outside the ward. I gave her three-year old frame a warm hug and led her inside the room. She seemed oblivious of her present environment. Until she saw her dad. 'Daddy!' she called out, reaching down from my arms to touch him. 'Shhhh! He is sleeping,' I told her, setting her down. 'Mummy see!' she said, showing me what she drew in her dog-eared notebook.'Beautiful!'I said, giving her another hug. Tears welled up in my eyes. Victory is the only happiness I have known in eight years. Since I met Jide.
After two days, Jide had become fully conscious. The doctor had explained that his immune system has been severely compromised by HIV and that the disease is progressing to affect several organs. Luckily, the 'rampaging' virus can still be overcome if Jide starts taking his drugs consistently. As the doctor left, I looked at Jide. Only one question was on my mind. 'Why did you ever stop taking you drugs?' I asked, almost in tears. He merely looked away. Two days later, Emeka, his younger brother showed up. He said his people sent him to bring Jide back to the East, close to home. I felt relieved, partly because I had borne Jide's cross alone for years. And partly because I was getting tired of the whole drama. Jide was frail and shaking as we were leaving the hospital. Emeka pleaded that I follow them down to the East and said I could return as soon as they get Jide into another hospital. So, with my shops under lock and key and Victory safely tied to my back, we boarded the next bus to Onitsha.
Our bus got to Onitsha by 6pm. Emeka's wife was waiting for us at the park. Jide had vomited twice during the journey and I had cleaned him up with the spare wrapper I had. She helped us carry Jide into her car, parked just outside the park. She drove. Exhausted, I slept off. I was awoken by a light flashing on my face. Shielding my face, I tried to adjust my eyes. Police check-point. I checked the time. 8pm. 'Where are we?' I asked. 'Somewhere in Delta state,' Emeka said. 'I called a doctor friend of mine and he asked us to bring Jide.' We drove for another one hour before I noticed the car slowing down. We pulled up inside a hospital just in front of the Emergency. A nurse brought a wheelchair which we used to move Jide into the Emergency. A young bespectacled doctor met us. 'Your brother?' he asked Emeka, motioning to Jide. 'Yes,' Emeka replied. The doctor asked series of questions, all the while writing in a folder. When he was done, someone came from the lab to collect Jide's blood for some tests. 'We are admitting him,' he told Emeka. 'If all goes well, your brother will recover fully.' We were taken to the ward. After Jide had been admitted, Emeka and his wife left with Victory. I allowed them take her because I couldn't have left a toddler running around a hospital while I looked after Jide. Emeka also gave me ten thousand naira. 'For food and drugs,' he said. And I settled into a most unpleasant task: getting Jide to eat and take his drugs.
A night passed. Two days. Then two weeks. Jide was getting stronger. I even heard the doctor say something about discharging him. I had gotten accustomed to the ward now. It was in a separate building, just adjacent to the main ward. By the nature of the patients lying there, I figured it was strictly for chronically ill patients. There were five beds in all numbered numerically. Bed 5 was vacant. Jide was Bed 1. Bed 2 was a pretty, young woman. She was being looked after by her mother and sister. Her boyfriend visited daily. I met him sobbing at the entrance of the ward one afternoon. 'What happened?' I asked. 'Why are people so wicked?' he asked, amid sobs. 'Could you believe that Lilian knew she had HIV and never mentioned it to me? And allowed me make love to her unprotected for two years?' 'You mean she has been aware for two years?' I asked, surprised. 'She said so herself,' he replied, heading to the direction of the lab. I stood, bewildered. Fifteen minutes later, I saw him running towards me. I was washing outside the ward. 'I tested negative!' he said, beaming with smiles. 'God help me test negative in three months.' That was the last I saw of him at the hospital. Bed 3 was a blind man probably in his fifties. He was admitted a week after we came. He was being looked after by his newly married wife. I was washing plates outside the ward one day when I overheard her querying the doctor. 'How can he have HIV when he cannot see? I am telling you that this is all spiritual,'she said, with the doctor looking surprised. 'Have you been tested?' the doctor asked. 'Yes, and I am negative. How can you reconcile that?'she asked. As the doctor walked away, she continued. 'His children confessed to striking him with blindness and I know they are responsible for this.' The doctor merely laughed.
Bed 4 was another young woman, nursed by her fiance. She had been in the ward only four days. It was my first time of seeing man nurse someone. He was always there. Cleaning. Washing. Feeding. Talk of a domesticated man! One evening, I met her sitting outside the ward. I joined her and we got talking. Her fiance had gone out to buy food. 'You have such a nice, supportive man,'I said, voicing my admiration. She smiled. 'Do you know anything about HIV?' she asked, visibly pained. 'Oh...'I said, looking away.'It is not a death sentence,' I continued, facing her. 'Easy to say,'she snapped. 'Look. I too have HIV,ok?' I told her, noting the surprise in her eyes.'It is no big deal. Just take your drugs daily and you will be fine,' I concluded. 'I like your confidence,'she said. After about five minutes, she spoke up, her voice laden with emotion. 'He caused all this!' 'How?'I asked, confused. 'Is he positive too?' 'No,'she said. 'He is negative. And he is the only man I have known.' 'How come?' I asked, more confused. 'I took in for him last year,'she began, wiping off a tear. 'We have been dating for six years. When I told him I was pregnant, he said he wasn't ready...that we can't start a family yet. He just started his business then and was struggling to find his feet. He suggested I should abort the baby.' I looked on, dazed.
"He took me to this place. It was a flat in a busy part of the town. There were about twenty young girls sitting in a room. We paid near the entrance and I was given a number and shown where to sit. Occasionally, the door to the adjacent room opens and a young girl comes out. A voice behind the door will call out 'Next!' and the next girl in line will enter. After about five hours, it was my turn. On entering the room, my first instinct was to turn and run. Lying in a bowl were bloody metallic instruments, adjacent to an worn couch. A bearded old man with blood-stained gloves motioned me to lie on the couch. I did. He told me to spread my legs," she said, fighting back tears. 'When he was done, I was deeply traumatized. Emotionally shredded. I didn't speak to my fiance for a week. Gradually, I came around. His business took off. He came to see my people for the introduction. We were attending marriage class in my church. Last week, the church requested we run some basic tests: blood group, genotype, HIV. You can imagine my shock when I was told I was HIV positive.'
She was sobbing freely now. I tried to console her. 'Whatever we cannot change, we must embrace and overcome,'I told her. 'No matter how dark the night, morning eventually comes.' When she had wiped her tears, we watched the sun go down. 'Tomorrow, we will rise with the sun, stronger than ever before,'I said, rising to go inside. She smiled.
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