Retroviral Chronicles part 7- Martha's rage.

I'm rather excited about this series, it's taking a very different form than I'd planned but I'm so loving this new path and all the unexpected bonuses. You can catch up on the older stories in this series if you click on the HIV/AIDS label on the right. Let's start today's episode shall we?

Anytime she saw the girl and her mother waiting to see Patricia and collect drugs from the pharmacy, she’d want to punch something or kill something just to assuage the feelings of rage and helplessness that coursed through her at the sight of them. She struggled to school her facial features to reflect cordiality even though her heart burned now and had been burning since Jesse called last night.

Retroviral Chronicles part 6- The Drunk and the Confused.

“O boy why you fuck up like that na?”

“Bros why you dey talk like that?”

“Jesse, I say you eff up anyhow” Osato’s rising voice attracted significant attention in the crowded bar.

Retroviral Chronicles part 5- Guilty as charged.

His wife was not the kind of woman who forgave easily in the best of times, she remembered the names and offenses of people who’d wronged her even when she was three years old. As she grew older, she got better at it, she’d remember the day, time, place and even the clothes that the offender had worn.

Retroviral Chronicles part 4- Virtue's reward

This shouldn’t be your reward, the payment for being a good wife. All the holy books are full of praises for the woman who is faithful to her husband, they call her blessed, honoured and virtuous.

 They do not say she should be waiting to collect antiretroviral medication in a hospital, imprisoned by a virus that has no cure and that will transform into a disease that will strip you of every dignity before it kills you. They are all silent on this matter, perhaps they did not foresee an idiot quite like the one you married.

Retroviral Chronicles part 3- A Heinous affair

I am a forty-five year old woman who has never been kissed, yet I’m sitting in the reception of a HIV testing clinc, legs pressed together as my vagina twangs from remembered anguish. How did I get here? It’s not a story that I like to tell. I’d rather tell you about the young man who fainted just before his result was announced.

Retroviral Chronicles part 2- The Sampler

The ceiling fan’s laconic twirling seemed to be holding the attention of the middle aged woman sitting on the red plastic chair, she’d probably been staring at it for at least ten minutes. It was clear that she didn’t want to initiate or receive eye contact from anyone, everyone in that room was happy to oblige her. The man with long and pointy beard was watching the ceiling too, his face seemed calm but his left foot was drawing an interesting pattern on the ground.

Retroviral Chronicles part 1a- The Big Sister

 She looked down at her gown as she got off the bus, the engine oil stain from the mechanic’s overall had spread a little wider. She worried about getting the stain off, wearing a white uniform frayed the ends of her patience. The thing attracted more stains than a young girl at a boys boarding house would magnet eyes and she spent a good chunk of her salary on bleach and detergent.

Searching for Sunset

  I’d looked for you for years, I’d gone crazy over you, wondered about you almost every day. I talked about you to people I’d just met. No one seemed to know you, though they agreed that you tickled their minds. You were that strong.

Dreamt

I dreamt of you again,
Lying in another's arms,
His breath warming my fevered brow,
I dreamt of you.

Beat the ground

  I didn’t know I had dreaded this visit, had no idea that the motivation for finding reasons and excuses was fear. This fear was the type that crippled, the type you couldn’t taste or touch- as transparent and weightless as air. You live with it, you’re not even aware of its presence and importance. Like wind, it will hurl you when it’s strong enough, it will leave destruction in its path.