I woke up feeling very strong. I had been sick for the last five days. They ran some blood tests on me. They even tested me twice for HIV simply because the result was not fully defined. This did not amuse me at all. They seemed disappointed in both cases that the results came out negative. I hated them for that. It is never easy to get tested for HIV, never mind the fact that one lives a holy life.
Men only get tested for HIV when it becomes absolutely unavoidable. You can imagine the kind of trauma I endured the first time I got tested. The second time, it felt like I was already facing death itself — the fear, the agony, the uncertainty crushed me from within.
Mai VaMaidei was keeping an eagle eye over me. My body temperature had been shockingly high and she had kept a wet towel over my forehead. But on this day I felt a sudden surge of energy.
The past two or three days had been critical as I hovered between the subconscious and waking nightmares, my mind drowning in waves of despair and unrelenting anxiety. It blew my mind.
On the third day of my illness, I started to focus my mind on positive cognitive thinking to stimulate my healing process.
I once read in a scientific journal that focus on meaningful goals activates neural pathways that improve mental resilience and emotional well-being, which in turn support physical health and recovery. This may simply be called psychoneuroimmunology showing how mental focus contributes to overall healing. It worked for me for I felt much better.
Mai VaMaidei prepared my favourite food, sadza and pork served with vegetables. I had lost my appetite but when the food was brought, I realised that I needed it.
I had just started to eat when there was a sudden knock on the door. When Mai VaMaidei peered through a crack in the window, she panicked.
- Another ETF lists on ZSE
- Econet to use Buddie Beatz app to grow local music
- Edutainment mix: The artist in the child policy formulation context
- An unsung HIV/Aids hero spreads message of hope
Keep Reading
“It’s Madzibaba Elisha and Madzimai Mary, his wife,” she said. In panic, she quickly removed the pork from the plate and left out only vegetables.
And then she shouted, “Come in!”
At the white garment church she went to worship on the open space behind Zororo Bar, they were forbidden to eat all pork products. Madzibaba Elisha called eating pork the most vile sin and quoted the scriptures, specifically Leviticus 11:7-8.
Madzibaba Elisha kept his flock on a tight leash and prescribed a rigid list of the do’s and dont's. This kept his flock on tenterhooks, anxious and tense—always tempted to test the boundaries he set.
When they entered, I could see Madzibaba Elisha sniff the air. He wanted to say something, but then he changed his mind. Word had reached him that I was sick, that explained the visit. I was not a member of his church. Only Mai VaMaidei attended religiously.
“I heard that he’s sick,” Madzibaba Elisha said as he peered at the food awkwardly.
Mai VaMaidei was still unsettled by the unexpected arrival of the prophet. It was a close shave. If she was caught eating pork, she risked being banished from the shrine for twelve months and had to go through a so-called cleansing ceremony.
“Thank you mufundisi for coming. He’s getting better now,” Mai VaMaidei said.
There was no love lost between me and the prophet. I did not like him at all. And he knew that I mistrusted him. I was not happy by the way he put wool on his follower’s eyes. I invited him to join me at the table. He jumped with alacrity.
At that moment, my eyes caught the attention of a big cockroach, those common in sewers which seemed to escape from his gown.
I watched in dismay as the sewer cockroach dashed diagonally across the floor in a bid to escape. It was terrified. For a fraction of a second, every one was watching the cockroach and just as it was about to climb on the wall, Madzibaba Elisha caught it by the tail and squeezed the life out of it. Some slick white smelly fluid oozed out and flowed between his thumb and forefinger. He casually wiped off the smelly white oleic acid on his white garment.
I was disgusted and my appetite suddenly vanished. I felt a deep emptiness.
After this, there was an awkward silence. I could see that Madzimai Mary was hugely embarrassed. I was not prepared for what happened next.
Madzibaba Elisha began to eat the food casually without even bothering to wash his hands. An uneasy silence filled the room. I stared at the stains on his robe, the crushed cockroach, the smeared white fluid, the filth disguised as purity and something inside me went still. Illness could be treated. Fever could be cured, but the sickness carried by such men was something deeper.
“I brought some more holy stones and you must place them in every corner of your bedroom. I prayed for the stones at the prayer mountain for three full days. The stones will protect you from your enemies who are trying to kill you,” Madzibaba Elisha said.
He almost choked as he ate and spoke simultaneously. He was undisturbed as he chewed greedily. I did not believe in the so called stones. All I knew was that he was taking his followers out for a wild ride.
*Onie Ndoro
For feedback X@Onie90396982/ [email protected]
