Life After Death

by Brian Ndingindwayo

  ‘I shouldn’t have done this.’ She whispered to herself, the third perhaps the fourth time on the day. But then there was no time to think. She collapsed into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 55

  'Mother!'

  Tuzuka hot. Mother on the veranda. She is wearing white. ‘Natasha,’ she calls.

  ‘Natasha,’ she says.

  ‘Mother, remove the snake around your neck, damn it.’ Natasha wants to run away. The smell of cowdung is strong in the air.

  ‘Natasha, talk to me.’ She is wearing white. It tortures her eyes.

  ‘Mother, where do dead people go? Is this the place where the dead people come?’

  The sky is white here. And so small. She will suffocate here. She wants to run away.

  ‘Mother, remove this thing around my arms. I want to leave.’ She screams.

  Her mother holds her in her arms. She sings slowly, a lullaby that sends her into a deep sleep again.

  There was so much going on

  I know you couldn’t

  Think of me

  There was so much to take

  You couldn’t

  Spare Tuzuka for a moment

  Your life was so crowded

  You planned too much

  And you couldn’t free yourself

  Rest in peace, my dear

  We’ll stay here forever

  This is where we were meant to be

  This is where all the pain led us

  And we’re never

  Stronger unless we’re in pain

  We’ve learnt so much yesterday

  And if it were not for the blood

  We’d not be here

  There was a smell of disinfectant in the air. She felt uncomfortable with the smell of the house.

  'Mother, you know what they're saying? They think you're dead.'

  Her mother smiled. 'She's awake,' she heard her brother speaking from behind. The smell of chemicals was too strong in the air. She shifted uncomfortably.

  'Now, won't you hold my hand, Natasha?'

  'So tell me, Natasha, where have you been? I've been worried about you.'

  'I've went out to Bulawayo.'

  'She's woken up, doctor.'

  Her mother's dress was extremely white. It was pulled open in the front. Inside she wore a Khaki T shirt.

  "Would you like to speak to me Ms Natasha?'

  'Mother I'm speaking to you. And would you stop calling me that?'

  She asked again, 'where have you gone to?' Her leg was hurting. Her arm too! The pain in her stomach was unbearable.

  'Natasha I want to speak to you.'

  She leaned her head to her. That smell of chemicals again! And what was that on her neck?

  'Mother, won't you remove that thing around your neck? It makes you look so ugly.'

  'Ms Natasha, can you hear me?' Her anger swelled. She wasn't even hearing a single thing of what she was saying.

  'I've gone to Bulawayo,' she said.

  This time her mother answered, 'How did you get there? You didn't have bus fare yesterday when I left you, did you?'

  'I grew some wings and flew.'

  'Really, can you fly for me?' it was then that she realized she was missing something. Her wings were broken. 'Ms Natasha. Ms Natasha can you hear me?'

  Her wings. Her wings, where were they?

  'You're sure you didn't take my wings, Mother?' There were many monstrous animals in the air. There was an elephant, which was already filling the whole sky.

  ‘That's ok, I'll leave you to rest now, Ms Natasha.'

  'Please, don't go Mother. I'm still looking for my wings. Please Mother, don't leave me again.' She yelled.

  Then, she was feeling very hot. She couldn't even move. Not only was she missing her wings, she was also tied up. She looked at her brother, beside her. He was still wearing his white shirt. Natasha couldn't understand them. Why couldn't they just exchange their clothes with, Mother?

  'Mother, you know before you died, everyone thought you had AIDS.'

  ‘AIDS is nothing. It's just a physical weakness of the body. Why, I died before you came back from South Africa. I had no hope then. I had no love. I was just an empty vessel.'

  'And Mother, how did you cope when you were HIV positive? I can never get to understand how you sang me ‘The Virgin Girl’ when things were so hard for you.'

  'Usually, it's the body that surrenders first. After that, your mind has to move on to other more fruitful things.’

  There was faint ebb of pain in her shoulder. The disinfectant clouded her nostrils. From a distance, she could hear people talking but not audibly enough for her to pick out their words. She felt rather sleepy. The temperatures had eased somewhat. She was almost pleased with this change.

  Slowly... she opened her eyes.

  There was a white ceiling above. She was in a small room with white walls. Her heart skipped a bit as she noticed some connections running from her body. She shifted her head. A nurse sat in the chair beside her. The nurse didn’t say anything but immediately rose from the chair and picked up her notebook. She checked the time and wrote something in the book. She did the same with various metres that were around, writing rapidly.

  Memories of what she had done came flooding back. She had wanted to kill herself and this is where she had ended up: the hospital! The place she so much hated. Who had brought her here, she wondered? What part of her body was still functioning and which parts were not? What place was this?

  She summoned the courage to ask. ‘What place is this?’

  The nurse wrote something before she answered.

  ‘The General.’

  ‘Who brought me here?’

  ‘The police.’

  ‘For how long have I been here?’

  ‘You only came yesterday.’

  She squinted at the window, where a faint breeze flapped the curtains inside. Looked like it was around ten o’clock in the morning. She had been unconscious for the whole night. She had myriad questions. What was the state of her car? How much did the police know about her? How much did Sipeyiye and Sue know about this? God, she was in a terrible mess.

  ‘What’s the police saying about me?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that, just that you had an accident. Why don’t you rest, dear?’

  The nurse handed her some tablets. She accepted them, amazed at how much her hand shook. She threw them in the mouth and tipped the water down her throat. She didn’t have much time to think thereafter.

  When she woke again, it was nearly dusk. The nurse still sat beside her. The connections around her had been removed which pleased her. She was slightly chilled now and felt more like a human being.

  ‘Can I go out?’

  ‘Only to the toilet.’

  She wasn’t writing in her notebook now, which Natasha thought was an improvement as well.

  ‘That’s where I want to go,’ she lied. She just wanted to be out of this goddamned place.

  The nurse arranged the crutches for her. Natasha peeled off the blankets and noticed with horror several bandages around her body. There was one on the pelvis. Another one was on the stomach. There was one on the shoulder. Shit! She looked so artificial and she was painfully thin.

  She eased herself out of the bed. The pain surfaced and she winked as her feet touched the ground. The pain threatened to blind her as she straightened up. She staggered, but the nurse held her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to her. The nurse smiled.

  The nurse directed her to the toilet. Natasha stayed there for some time just studying the landscape outside. She now had a rough idea of the place.

  She walked out. The nurse still kept an eagle eye on her. She had been here since morning, and would leave soon, Natasha thought. She would miss her.

  She made it back to the bed.

  ‘You’ll let me know you?’ she asked the nurse.

  ‘Why? That’s not important, is it? After a week, there’ll be a lot
like me.’

  She was talking about a week. Natasha doubted if she would spend another hour here.

  ‘But I think you’re so likeable. I wouldn’t like to lose a friend just because there are so many people around.’

  ‘Well, I’m Tafadzwa Manzira. I know you’re Natasha.’

  ‘Chuma,’ she said with a chuckle, referring to her card.

  ‘I had a cell phone when this accident happened. Did the police leave it here by any chance?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ She pulled open a drawer at the side of the bed.

  ‘That’s the only thing they left. Reasoned you might like to use it. Otherwise they took everything with them.’

  ‘I want to make an important call.’ She took it and toyed with it in her hands. She wondered if the word important meant anything to Tafadzwa or maybe patients and prisoners were just treated the same. She was relieved when Tafadzwa stepped out to give her room to talk privately.

  She dialled off, mentally weighting the success of her plan. And that was it. She would be out soon. She wanted to be on her feet again. The vision was still blurred as to how she was going to make her way, but she was, definitely. She slapped the blankets as she said so.

  The nurse returned. ‘I bet that was a boyfriend you were talking to,’ she said cheerfully.

  ‘Good guess! But I told him I’ve only a minor injury. I can’t afford to hurt him, you see.’ She said it thoughtfully, dreamily and staring into the air.

  ‘The police have been to your place, but they couldn’t find anybody.’

  Natasha’s heart sank. How much were the police determined to unveil?

  ‘I’ll wait for him outside. Does that bother you?’

  She didn’t respond straightaway. ‘But that has to be quick. The doctors will be in for their rounds in a moment. And we’re also expecting the police.’

  She was sorry to have told a lie, but she could not spend another night here. She wobbled on crutches out of the room. It was going to be strange to leave with their gear. She would phone and apologize later.

  She limped down the stairs and waited in the park. As the taxi pulled up in the parking lot, she suddenly realized how hungry she was. It was a Mazda. She would have loved to stop in town and eat something, but it was going to be strange with what she wore. Taxi drivers don’t love games, but she managed to stop the driver. She bought herself plenty of fruits. Part of her resurrecting programme was to have a lot of food and rest. In addition, she bought a newspaper, the Truth. She didn’t even glance at the headlines, but she just clutched it under her armpits and hobbled back to the taxi.

  And she refused to admit it had anything to do with Sipeyiye.

  The keys were gone now and she reasoned this was the only way to keep in touch with him. Once again, she was terribly missing him. ‘If only he could come back,’ she whispered audibly enough to be heard by the taxi driver.

  ‘I can’t understand you, ma’am,’ the driver.

  ‘Oh sorry,’ she said. ‘Never mind me. Just drive me to my apartment.’

  Relaxed in the back seat, Natasha viewed the whole scene as if she was a tourist. She even wondered what had entered her mind that she would want to commit suicide. The fine weather on the day seemed to be mocking her for wanting to take a cowards way out. After the rain sunshine always came.

  The taxi whirled into First Avenue and stopped outside the court.

  ‘That’s how much?’

  ‘Twenty dollars.’

  ‘Would you mind following me to my court?’

  The driver followed indeed and she squared him. Left alone, she wondered where she should start. Maybe first she would call for a house cleaning service. That would do for the floor and the laundry. She should also call for lunch. Then she would wait, bathing. Afterwards, she would go and see the police. She was still thinking of the boy she saw on the streets and wondering how much progress he had made in finding Manata, or if she had lost him because of her stupidity. She hadn’t gone to the place yesterday. She would have to try in the evening. She felt good about it.

  She bathed. First to arrive was the lunch. She piled things on the table: fruits, champagne, lunch and began to consume. She also had with her The Truth.

  As she browsed through it though, she was suddenly attracted by the headlines: HER MAJESTY TO VISIT BULAWAYO. Still the same story, but in far much smaller letters was written, street children taken out of the streets. She quickly went down the passage.

  Her majesty, Queen Elizabeth, is to visit Bulawayo on her tour of Southern Africa. She’s expected to arrive next week, on the 19th of November. The Minister of Publicity, Tendai Kamuzi, said the queen would tour a number of charity organizations around Bulawayo.

  Meanwhile, the Municipality of Bulawayo is also making plans to welcome her. The Truth learnt that the girls from Falcon will sing for her at the City Hall where she will make her address. Street children have been taken from the streets and accommodated at Sanity Home.

  The number of street children has increased drastically in the past few years due to the plight of AIDS. Most of these children have lost one or both parents due to the pandemic. As a result, these children have few options and have had to drift into the streets for survival.

  Stuck between the pages was the picture of the children, small, malnourished, sad...

  Chapter 56

  She dropped the paper on the table. She went for the directory and flipped it over.

  She managed to find the number of Sanity Home. She dialled. The phone rang three times before the woman at the end responded.

  ‘Hello, this is Sanity Home.’

  ‘Yes, I would like to know if there is a boy called Manata among the children you have taken from the streets?’

  ‘Hold on.’ There was a click as Natasha held on. She could hear the rustle of paper as the person at the other end went through their records. Hard organ music could also be heard, the type Natasha always associated with the Roman Catholic Church.

  Her heart galloped in anticipation.

  ‘Well, he’s there.’

  She couldn’t conceal her happiness. ‘He’s there?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve said.’

  ‘I’m coming up there at once. You’ll care to give me your name so that I’ll know the right person to talk to.’

  ‘Sister Barbara.’

  ‘Sister Barbara,’ she tried the name for sound. ‘Thank you very much. Expect me in a few minutes.’

  She hung up. She gazed at the phone for a while. Now, this was what she would call a surprise. How could she tell someone what has been happening to her in only this short space of time? Definitely, nobody could believe her. Another move, she thought, and this time it was bye Sipeyiye.

  The cleaning woman turned up then. She paid her off for the transport and apologized she couldn’t be there. She wanted to be out, and she couldn’t even wait for another minute more than was necessary.

  Then she staggered to her feet to leave. She heard the screeching of tyres on the concrete outside. On shifting the curtains, she confirmed that the taxi had come.

  Chapter 57

  Sanity Home lay in the outskirts of the city. It took Natasha twenty minutes, to get there. A dull signpost with paint peeling off greeted them as they entered the gate. It was no longer readable. Natasha guessed it must at one time have read ‘Sanity Home’.

  She could make out men doing the grounds in the background. In a corner of the premises, out in the open were small groups of children huddled together. On the football pitch some children were playing soccer. She found herself saying her blessings to people who devoted their time to serving humanity.

  The secretary wasn’t the first person she saw when she left the car. Indeed, there was a receptionist who seemed to have nothing else to do and who was especially glad to be given a piece of work. She left her seat and ushered Natasha to the secretary.

  ‘What happened to your leg?’ she asked

  Natasha igno
red her.

  ‘Are you related?’ the receptionist asked as she knocked on the door. She was referring to the sister.

  ‘She’s a friend,’ she responded in time to hear another voice say, ‘come in.’

  She went in. Sitting behind the desk was a somewhat overweight secretary. Her cheeks were full and the skin on her face was smooth. But it was the bright and innocent eyes that could best describe the woman, the sort that had never been exposed to the big, bad world.

  Sister Barbara heaved herself out of the chair for a handshake. Natasha leaned forward to shake the proffered soft, smooth hand.

  ‘Have a seat.’

  Natasha flashed a smile and took the wooden armchair as she settled into the sudden silence.

  ‘What have you to tell us?’

  ‘I talked to you over the phone a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Sure, but we need to know what your story is.’

  ‘My name is Natasha’ she paused to think about her next words. ‘I’m an Accountant with Old Mutual.’

  The nun stirred and sat upright in her chair, an indication that she intended to give the matter serious attention.

  ‘Sometime last month, I lost my boy. He ran away from school, to be exact. I haven’t been able to get hold of him since then, in spite of my continuous searching for him all over the place. When I saw I saw this article in the Truth I decided to phone. It seemed to me more than likely that he would be here. You confirmed it so I guess I was right.’

  The nun was tapping the floor with her leg as she listened. She looked like quite an intelligent person. The nun gave no immediate answer. She was probably trying to pick holes in Natasha’s story.

  She found it.

  ‘How’re you related?’

  ‘He’s someone I used to stay with,’ she almost snapped.

  Natasha said nothing now, but realized she might have to fire back. Although she was talking sense, they might not give her the boy if they suspected anything sinister. But until then, they would get no trouble from Natasha Chuma, she resolved.

  ‘For how long have you been living with him?’

  Natasha did a mental calculation and told an honest answer. ‘About three months.’

  ‘Well, you might have to talk to Father Kennedy, who’s in charge of everything here.’

  She rose, pushing the chair away behind her and came round the desk. She shuffled past her in a long gown and knocked at the door gently. Natasha didn’t hear anybody responding, but the sister opened and entered.