(Photo Credits: Tevin Ajode).
She was silently sitting at the hospital bench as she mumbled a prayer to herself. Beads of sweat were visible on her forehead. Perhaps she was remembering her past life? All the decisions she had made in her entire life? Her huge round hazel eyes looked beautiful, she had nice pink lips. A black fitting sequined dress hugged her temple nicely. A derrière worth catching a bullet for. It seems she had been crying while mumbling her silent prayer to whatever deity was above.
The thing about waiting in a VCT line is that it brings about alot of tension and anxiety. People rarely make small talk. Your life choices and decisions are always weighed upon the scales of the medicine practitioner. No one wants to be told they are sick or have HIV. Stigmatization that follows is usually worrying. Pressure builds up as one thinks of their past deeds. Karma usually fast replays your life. Questions being asked by your inner being overwhelms your conscience. Some pray, others are care free. Panick and terror could be seen in many eyes.
The door swings open and a man in his mid forties is directed to the counselling room. His health looks deteriorated. He coughs alot and he has signs of tuberculosis. The nurse calls out to the next patient. The beautiful hazel eyed girl goes in. An eerie breeze blows gently, it sends shivers to everyone’s spine. She is trembling, her steps are abit uncoordinated.
I was next in line. I fidgeted with my phone for a while trying to keep the boredom and anxiety at bay. A young man makes small talk with me.
“Hey. You seem abit tensed”, he said to me.
“Nope, not really”, I replied.
“I’m Hadi”, he said.
“James”. I replied. I never told him my real name. I wasn’t interested in small talk. I might come off as a snob, but in such situations it’s you and your God.
Hadi: So what brings you here?
Me: We are in the VCT line.
Hadi: They told you to come get tested?
Me: Been having chest problems . What of you?
Hadi: I got some rash, and the puny doctor told me to come check my status. It’s my first time though.
Me: You’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Use a condom next time.
We both laugh at that remark.
Humorous guy he seemed. Who opens up to a stranger when they have a vernereal disease?
I hate getting rained on. Whenever it happens most of the times I develop chest pains that won’t go away. The reason why I decided to visit a doctor. Only for them to test me for T.B, bronchitis, asthma and other chest infections. The last straw broke when they told me that I should also check my status and that it was mandatory. I dreaded that place. Yet my poor soul was next in line.
“No, it can’t be true. I can’t have this thing”. We could hear shouts coming from the VCT room. Damn! No one is safe. A fresh chill of fear spread across the entire bench. People shifted uneasily. Some called their parents, others began mumbling, “itakuaje sasa?” We all took pity for the black sequined dressed lady.
The door swung wide and ajar, and she left howling curse words and crying uncontrollably. Her foot never stepped into the counselling room. All eyes escorted her as she left.
“Next”! The nurse shouted. An ugly mean looking nurse. I timidly followed her into the room. It smelled of cheap methylated spirits you’d find in those dingy dens in Kariobangi. Cold it was.
“Your papers”, she asked.
I gave them to her. I noticed that there were three other beautiful nurses. They started making passes and flirting with me. Judging from their body language, I could tell that they might be willing to give me a practical session on how to use a condom.
Nurse 1: How you feeling today?
Me: I came cause I have been having concurrent chest pains and I decided to check what it was.
Nurse 2: When was the last time you had any sexual encounters?
At that point I began counting my fingers trying to remember the number of women I had bedded in the last month alone.
All nurses in that room burst out in laughter.
Me: What’s funny? I’m trying to remember. The last time I got laid was two weeks ago.
Nurse 3: Do you use protection with your multiple partners?
Nurse 4: I hope you are not afraid of needles. This will hurt abit.
Damn. I hated needles, antiseptic that they applied to your middle finger making it feel cold before they pierced it.
Me: I dislike hospitals. Some I used protection. Others I cant remember. I was caught up in the heat of the moment.
Nurse 2: Can you demonstrate to us that you know how to use a condom?
Me: Like I remove my pants and put it on?
Nurse 1: Are you afraid? I clearly saw you counting fingers. I believe it’s not a huge task for you.
I felt uncomfortable as nurse 3 handed me the box of government condoms.
I hated them. They were hugely labeled, G.O.K.
Nurse 4 pierced my finger and placed my blood and some solution on the testing kit.
Nurse 2: If a single line draws across it means your clean. If it’s a double line, you’ll have to pass through the counseling room.
Nurse 3: It would be such a waste if you’d turn out positive. I wouldn’t be able to give you the practical.
Nurse 1: It’s not the end of life. If you become positive. People live for long with this disease if you eat well, and take your prescribed drugs correctly and on time.
Me: Yes I know. Can we skip this? I’m just anxious to know my results.
Nurse 4 is quite a naughty one. She places a huge dildo and asks me to unwrap the condom and put it on the dildo. I was taken a back at this strange request. Nevertheless I did it to kill the time as I waited for the results.
Nurse 1: Your results are ready. You have a clean bill of health. Next time use a condom young man.
Nurse 3: Before you go, do you mind taking off your pants. I want to show you how it’s properly done.
I was shy as I opened my pants. Nurse 2 took one of the sheaths and put on my already erect member. They made me sit on a chair. And Nurse 3 pulled her dress up and pulled her panties to the side and sat on me. Nurse 4 unbuttoned her dress and let me have a good view of her dashboard lights.
They took turns riding me until I could take no more. I was abit perplexed and dazed. I never expected to be laid in a hospital by three good looking nurses. I cleaned and dressed up left the room beaming. With my papers in hand and headed back to the doctor with my test results.
All the tests were negative. The doctor prescribed some drugs and let me go.
I make a call to Aquinos, derailer numero uno.
Aquinos: Hello? Ushatoka hosi? ( Have you left the hospital)?
Me: Eeh, Tupatane locale, kila kitu imetoka fiti. (Yes. Lets meet at the locals. Everything turned out fine).
Aq: Poa, ntakua huko in thateee. (Cool. I’ll be there in thirty).
Me: Fiti, ustakejua kile imetokea. (Cool, You dont know what just happened).
It’s 1430hrs I step out of the hospital and head to the locals. We are the other lot that are in serial relationships with our liquor.
(PS: None of this story is based on a true event.)