Portia hasn’t been to school in almost two weeks, and she’s terribly ill at home with a fever.

REFILWE: (knocks on the kitchen door) Koko!

MUM CONNIE: (opens the door looking sick with worry) Hi Refilwe, ngwanaka. Please come in.

(steps back to let her in)

REFILWE: Dumela, Ma. How’s Portia doing? I brought her some of her school work. Everyone is

very worried about her. (Refilwe is about to take off her face mask)

MUM CONNIE: No, my child, (she holds out a cautionary hand) keep it on. We don’t know

what’s wrong with Portia yet. It looks like a really bad flu and she’s had fever. Hayi… (with tears

in her eyes) Refilwe, my child is so damn stubborn. She refuses to go to the doctor.

REFILWE: Maybe she’s just scared, Ma. I’ll talk to her.

MUM CONNIE: So am I, my child, so am I. (wipes away tears with a tissue) She’s in her

bedroom.

REFILWE: (gently knocks on Portia’s bedroom door) Koko. Chommie?

Silence.

REFILWE: Chommie? It’s me, Refilwe. Can I come in?

PORTIA: (muffled answer from behind the closed door) Come in.

Refilwe opens the door and walks in.

REFILWE: Chommie! (she gasps)

(Portia gives a weak smile and stretches out her hand.)

REFILWE: Oh my friend… (steps forward, takes her hand, and sits on the bed next to her)

PORTIA: Hi friend. Thanks for coming. (coughs)

REFILWE: Chommie, I know it must be scary, but you’ve got to go see a doctor.

PORTIA: (starts crying) Chomma, what if…what if I’m dying? I’m scared of…. (sobs) What if I’m

HIV positive?

REFILWE: (cups her hand over her mouth for a moment) No, no, my friend, don’t think like that.

PORTIA: But on Google, one of the symptoms mentioned is flu and no one at home has the

flu…except me. (mumbles to herself) Is this it?

REFILWE: Oh Chommie hle! (hugs her friend) We can’t think like that. Besides, Gugu doesn’t

always get it right. It’s going to be OK, but you’ve got to see an actual doctor. Whatever it is,

I’m sure they can treat it.

PORTIA: (still sobbing) I’m too young to die. And my poor mother…

REFILWE: My friend, I’ve never told this to anyone, but we have a relative who has been HIV

positive for nearly fifteen years and she’s still living an active life taking her ARVs. Nothing about her says, “I’m HIV positive.” She takes really good care of herself. So no, whatever it is, you not going to die. (also starts crying) I won’t let you! We won’t let you, chomma.

Mum Connie comes in, sits on the bed, hugs them both and starts crying too.

MUM CONNIE: It’s going to be OK, my baby. Shshshshsh… (wipes Portia’s clammy forehead with a cool cloth)

PORTIA: I’m so sorry, Mama.

MUM CONNIE: (whispers in her ear) Oh my baby, you have nothing to be sorry about. I love you.

PORTIA: I love you too, Mama.

Tell us: Why do you think Portia would think she might be dying?