“I hope he will be okay,” Martha said, rubbing her hands together.

Melody was sitting beside Martha sleeping. Her head was leaning on the wall, while Martha could not even close her eyes. She was frightened that her brother would die. She had sent messages to her siblings about Lovemore after struggling to get through to them on their calls. Their phones went straight to voicemail.

While she was thinking, a tone of “Kutonga Kwaro” played on her phone. She was excited, but it was Shamiso.

“Hello, how is he?” Shamiso asked, and there was a sound of a baby in the background.

“We don’t know yet, we are waiting for the doctor,” Martha responded with her itchy eyes.

“I will come tomorrow as soon I find someone to leave the twins with,” Shamiso said with empathy and broke the call.

Melody fixed her head and opened her eyes. The doctor appeared, and she quickly jumped up, and Martha followed her. “How is he?” Melody asked, swallowing while trying not to cry.

Instead of responding, the doctor stared at them sadly, and something in his eyes showed that Lovemore had died.

“Is he dead?” Melody yelled.

“No mama! His rectum is infected. We are not sure if its cancer or a strange disease, but we could be late,” the doctor said, and that made Melody and Martha drop their jaws as if they were confused. “We tested him for HIV and it was positive. He said he had been tested before, but he refused to take meds. Now his days are limited because he is already in stage 4 of the disease,” he added.

“What does that mean?” Martha asked, swallowing and holding back her tears. She could see her mother did not understand what the doctor had said, but she knew about the HIV. They were always tested at work, and they were given a lot of information about it.

After a while, Gerald walked in with a plastic of bananas and apples. He stood on their side, giving his ears to the doctor.

“His CD4 count is low, and his viral load is very high,” the doctor explained, and when a nurse came calling for help, he stormed to the wards.

“What did he say? So he can cure the CD4?” Gerald asked, concerned.

“Dad, Lovemore is on stage four of HIV, and that means he has AIDS,” Martha responded, and then she sat on the bench looking uneasy and tense.

“So they know the disease and they have medicine for it?” Gerald asked, and he and Melody joined Martha on the bench.

“Baba, AIDS has no cure,” Martha responded, and the sighed.

“I don’t get what the doctor said,” Melody murmured, and then grabbed a banana from the plastic.

“If he can’t cure AIDS, then he can cure HIV?” Gerald asked with relief.

“Aaaargh baba, HIV is a virus, and when you are in stage 4, it is now AIDS, and the body will be sicker and it can’t be cured. AIDS and HIV have no cure, but HIV can be treated,” Martha gushed and sighed with her hand on her face.

“I want to see him,” Melody said, rushing to Lovemore’s room.

When she got to the room, she found him staring at the ceiling. He was awake but pale, and he looked worried and uneasy. His eyes were itching with tears. His face was in pain, and a plastic tube with colourless liquid connected to a pole with a long tube was stuck in his arm.

“How are you feeling?” Melody asked, rubbing Lovemore’s hand.

“Mama, I did wrong to a lot of people. Please apologise to them for me, especially Shamiso,” Lovemore pleaded sadly. A bead of sweat was on his forehead, and Melody could feel his hot temperature through his palms

“Why do you sound like you are about to die?” Melody asked, wiping the sweat with her hand.

“Mama, life is unpredictable. I played with my life, and now look at me. I’m suffering for all my sins,” Lovemore responded in a shaking voice. He swallowed and looked through the window. “Please tell Baba I never wanted to disappoint him. I wanted to do something with myself, like doing handiwork. I tried selling cannabis so I could have capital,” he continued, shrugging, and then coughed.

“It’s okay. Your father is worried, Lovemore. Get well soon! You will be okay, right?” Melody said, rubbing his cheek and he smiled. It reminded her of the past, when she would rub his cheek even when he hated it. She did it out of motherly love, and Lovemore giggled and coughed again. “Take it easy,” Melody went on, rubbing his chest gently, but he coughed and coughed. A nurse walked in and asked Melody to step out.

Outside the room, the doctor came holding files, and they cornered him. “You have to be strong, anything can happen,” the doctor said, and then rushed off to another emergency.

***

Tell us: Do you think people will be able to forgive Lovemore for what he did to them?