Christina didn’t find it easy working at Woolworths. A lot of men eyed her. She didn’t know how to say no and so she slept with all of them at different times after work. People at the hostel knew that she wasn’t married, but enjoyed men’s companionship. She moved from the hostel to a flat and bought fancy furniture. The men she hosted loved her bling and on fleek life.

After a year her health started to deteriorate. Mrs Nkosi advised her to seek medical assistance at the hospital. She refused because she thought people from South Africa were bewitching her. She was afraid of visiting the hospital, it felt like she was on a death sentence. She knew about HIV and STDs but never went for a test. After months of her being sick, she lied to the supervisor that she was taking medication.

Tawanda visited her plenty of times, but she refused to listen. Sometimes she was well, sometimes it was worse. She thought she would get better.

One night she felt her breathing stopping a lot of times. She called Tawanda who came quickly. He drove her car to the flat she was renting. At first he wanted tell her he was taking her to hospital but his heart told him to go home with Christina. He had to follow his heart.

“Sister, I have called my boss. We are going home today,” he said. Quick in and out.

“Oh… OK,” she answered in a slow manner.

Tawanda help his sister through the stairs into the car. She then became silent. He thought she was dead, he thought if the worst happened he wasn’t strong enough.

“Sister, sister,” he said loudly.

Christina’s weak body lay motionless but she opened her eyes. She tried to look at Tawanda but it was hard for her.

“We will reach home today,” he tried to console her.

She nodded slowly. Tawanda drove the car to Ngundu area after the Zimbabwe border. When they had passed the gate at the border Christina was already dead. He couldn’t cry but had to be a man. A few tears came out but he encouraged himself to be stronger, he had to. It was better she died after the border or things would’ve been worse. If she had died while still in South Africa, they had to get an injection so her body stayed fresh and some paperwork needed be filled out to carry a corpse.

The family waited for them, some wailed. He got out of the car and the elders took Christina’s body in a hut while Tawanda embraced his mother who cried louder. So sad that the kids didn’t understand what was happening.

***

Tell us what you think: Do you think there is still stigma around HIV? Why or why not?