Everyone was present. Soft melody, drinks, food; the light kept changing colours and it rhymed with each section or phase of the moment as though it was told the exact colour to display at every given time.
This year’s family get-together was extraordinary, there was an upgrade in all aspects. I mean why not? Given the good report that each person came home with. Mum and dad couldn’t contain their Happiness; Six children, established in careers and business, Happily married with wonderful families, except for Chidera who was yet to be married.
But then, she was engaged, and her fiance was present too. When it comes to Chidera, marriage is less of an accomplishment, she’s a career lady. Earning twice as much as myself and my husband combined.
And if I may add, she is twice as slim as myself – during our undergraduate days she was better known as Slim Berry. We kept on with the enjoyment, laughing and playing games, taking turns dancing and watching funny videos.
It was fun.
Amid the merriment, we noticed that Chidera wasn’t participating fully.
She was in and out at the same time.
Of course, everyone excused that. We thought she had an urgent need that required her attention. Well she ought to. To whom much is given much more is expected. She’s always on the phone speaking with Clients, on the laptop making presentations. She is the definition of hardwork pays.
Apart from the fact that she wasn’t steady in the gathering, we also noticed an enormous change in her physique. She looked pale and sick this time around, even though she was of the opinion that she was okay.
If not for her constant reiteration of “I love my Job” and age, at some point I thought she was auditioning for some beauty pageant. Sweet ancestors! The weight loss is striking.
Still in the merrymaking, Chidera stepped out again yelling instructions to someone over the phone, but this time, she took very long.
So long that Ibe, my husband decided to check up on her.Out of the blue, I heard someone scream “Ngozi!” surprisingly that someone turned out to be my husband. Ever since he got me pregnant the first time, I’ve never called him sweet names. It’s Ibe – c’mon that young man almost cut my university dreams short.
But he’s been on top of his game calling me sweet names, to scream my name is a red flag. I ran upstairs and found Chidera lying helplessly on the floor in her room.
To cut it short, we rushed her to Federal Medical Center, Umuahia, and it was discovered that she had fainted due to constant dizziness and recurrent syncope as a result of HIV associated with Addison’s disease.We were also shocked to find out that she has been living with HIV for 3 years, and was not adhering to treatment.
She never told anyone. If she ever did tell someone, I should be the first person. I am the closest person in her life. I’m her next of kin in all her official documents. She sends me money and food stuffs days before my salary, monthly.
More than anything, I feel betrayed. When Ibe incidentally got me pregnant during my undergraduate days, I told her, and she shouldered all the antenatal responsibilities. She was there for me all through.
And when it was time for me and Ibe to be of help, she died in silence.
She chose death instead of family.It could have been different.
She would have been alive and healthy if she had adhered to treatment.
She would have received constant encouragement to take her drugs if she had told me or the entire family, but she didn’t, for fear of being stigmatized.
Stigma my foot!
Absolute nonsense!
It is high time we accommodate and support people living with HIV, to enable them adhere to treatment, live long, and less the spread.
HIV is not a death sentence, it can be managed.
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