WHERE HOPE HAPPENS

                    CHAPTER I


Nine year old Pidipidi Sejabana opened her eyes to a brand new day, her indolent brown eyes fixedly focused on a stream of morning light flooding the room from an open window in her hospital room. The little girl was awaiting her most cherished event of the day when her aunt would be visiting. Aunt Matshwaro was a plump middle aged woman and sister to Pidipidi's mother, Shadi. Shadi was dead. She died a year ago leaving Pidipidi in the care of aunt Matshwaro who was by all accounts a devoted, caring and protective guardian. Pidipidi received all the love she could get from her aunt and yet a permanent vacuum remained etched in her heart for the one face, the one voice and the single smell that would have made her the joyous little girl she wished to be, and that was the presence of her deceased mother, Shadi. Pidipidi knew that her mother was never coming back. She had long accepted that after months of praying and hoping for a miracle to bring her mother back. The one fruit of her prayers appeared to have been a contraction of the disease that had put her in hospital. Pidipidi was too young to understand many things but she had a foreboding sense of doom from the moment she entered the hospital; she sensed that she might never leave her sanitized prison with its aroma of disinfectant, cries of pain and quiet often the eerie silence seemingly precipitated by such cries. Pidipidi had heard of and seen other children her age carted out of the children's ward of the Princess Marina Hospital to unknown destinations. Nobody told her where the listless bodies were being conveyed; nobody explained why they never returned; nobody mentioned to her why she felt like a hamster in a narrow dark tunnel scurrying helplessly towards an even darker bottomless pit; but then no details would have served the little girl any better. She sensed from the suffocating feeling of canned hopelessness that her life was wasting away and that things might never be the same again; she dreaded with surreal uncertainty the time when her turn would come to be carted out of the ward to a destination unknown. Pidipidi wondered how she would feel, how those children who went before her felt or whether she would be aware of being transferred to her new abode. She may have been only nine years old, but even the young and innocent posses their basic instincts, for indeed, Pidipidi was on her death bed. As she lay there deafened by the silence of her ignorance and yet haunted by expectations of the unexpected, Pidipidi could only recall the best moments of her little life; that was when her mother was alive. Mornings before school and evenings prior to bedtime were her favorite moments.
On an evening preceding beautiful morning she was awakening to in the hospital, her mother would have walked into the small but comfortable bedroom she shared at home with her two sisters, one two years older and the other three years younger than her. Mother would tell the children their evening story as they lay on their beds in various positions of concentration. Mama Shadi as they fondly called her would pick stories ranging from romance to tales of chivalry, with all stories having happy endings. Each time, after every story, whilst still starry eyed from the hypnotic effect of their mother's adoring eyes and soothing voice, the children would attempt to prolong the pleasure by asking follow up questions, relating the stories to their own lives.
"Mama Shadi," Pidipidi would ask. "Do you think us three girls will grow up to marry good men and have children like us?"
"Yes dear," Mama Shadi would respond. When addressing her children by name Mama Shadi always shortened the names making them wonder amusedly why she had given them longer names then. "Pidi, with your big round eyes, you will charm any boy and make him worship the ground that you walk on. Your eyes will make him dazed till your voice comes; then he will be the sweetest husband ever and forever."
The children would sigh.
"Mama Shadi," Pidi the most assertive of the girls would persist. "Are you always going to be there for us and will you see us working and getting married?"
"Of course Pidi," Mother would reply. "I'm not going anywhere and I'm not leaving my girls until they are 100 years old."
"Then, what?" Pidi asked.
"Then what what, Pidi?" asked Mama Shadi.
Then what happens when we're 100 years?"
"Well dear, at 100 years you girls would be old enough to look after yourselves and you'd be leaving with your husbands anyway."
"And how old would you be mother?" That would be Pidi asking.
"I'd be old enough not to tell little girls my age because I'd still be a lady," said the mother.
Pidipidi would always take the lead as the virtual representative of the children.
"I don't want you to be old Mama Shadi. I'm afraid of you being old because then you might leave us like other old people leave their families to go and die."
"Pidi," said the mother laughing. "They're not elephants. They don't leave to go and die. They just die because it would be time. That's God's choosing."
"I don't like this dying thing, "Pidipidi insisted. "And I don't like this thing of God making people and then choosing they must die. I don't want him to take you away from us mama."
Mama Shadi was always touched when the children adopted such somber tones. At that stage she had no reason to suspect that destiny could deal them the fatal blow that it later delivered. Life was full of hope and optimism and vitality then.
"Oh nothing's ever going to take me from my girls. Now, everybody to bed."
Mother would tuck them to bed and retire herself leaving behind the lingering, comforting smell of her nightly after bath aroma of dettol soap.
Pidipidi remembered details of the various conversations with her mother as she lay dying. Although too young to understand everything, she had been in and out of hospital for two years and at one point she and her mother were admitted in the same hospital. Her condition deteriorated after her mother's death. Her medication made her sick and the ravaging pain that shook her small frame often left her in tears of self-pity, loneliness, desperation, despondency and worse, fear. She had recurring bouts of influenza with fits of dry, chest wrecking coughs, sore throat, high fever and delirious shivers. Pidipidi had noticed that the little-girl magic she cast on the nurses when she was first admitted to the hospital had long dissipated with the nurses becoming more impatient, coarse and even physically rough when helping her around her bed. The previously gentle hands that administered injections with soothing tones had become harder and less restrained when handling her. The nurses grew less attentive, spoke in subdued but clearly derisive tones with obvious reference to her and barked at the slightest complaint from her.
At school Pidipidi had been told of a disease called AIDS and she soon caught its constant reference in the nurses' vocabulary when they whispered to each other. Pidipidi had heard that to get AIDS one had to have been a bad girl. She had not been a bad girl and so it puzzled her that every time the nurses were around her the subject appeared to rarely miss from their utterances. She was soon to discover the reason for the tones of conspiracy around her when one evening two nurses, believing that she was asleep, started discussing her.
"The little girl," said the first nurse. "It's sad what happened to her, isn't it?"
"Yes it is," the second nurse replied. "Sometimes you just wished she'd die and be spared the agony."
"Oh don't say that," said the first nurse. "You never give up hope."
"What hope sister?" asked the second nurse. "Her mother died of HIV/AIDS. Obviously this recurring condition of her is AIDS."
"We don't know that for sure", said the first nurse. "The doctor hasn't even asked for the test yet."
"Because it's obvious sister. The treatment would still be the same anyway because these are opportunistic diseases she's suffering from."
"True," replied the first nurse. "But we don't know for sure that she is HIV positive."
"Of what use would that information be? Her mother died a year ago of HIV/AIDS. Obviously…"
"Stop it sister," interrupted the first nurse. "She's nine years old. She was eight when the mother died. She's not sexually active, and if it was a mother-to-child transmission she would have had it nine years ago and she would have long had the symptoms."
"I guess you're right, but there've been cases…" said the second nurse.
"Yes. There've been cases and this is not one of them. In any case, it's not important. The poor thing is very ill, she's an orphan and she's here for our care."
Listening to the conversation which basically pronounced her death sentence, Pidipidi snuggled deep into the bed linen, seeking comfort and silently visualizing pictures of her short life and the life that could have been. Very soon the sedative that the nurses had given her for pain started working and she slipped into the welcome zone of deep sleep.
A third nurse entered the ward and her two other colleagues who had been talking about Pidipidi cheerfully extended the conversation to her.
"Hey, Kitty! There you are. Isn't it a shame about that little girl Pidipidi?" asked the first nurse, busying herself with a paraphernalia of medicinal bottles and syringes as she attempted to lighten her curiosity o the subject to cursory conversation.
Kitty was a slightly built young woman of around 23 years old. Her petite figure and quiet disposition made her the envy of many nurses. Kitty appeared to be a textbook prescription of how a nurse should look and sound. She had a soft voice, dreamy eyes with long eye lashes and pursed lips that appeared apologetic about making lengthy conversation. Her abundant thick African hair was neatly piled in a hut shaped style on a nicely shaped head.
Giving her colleagues a slow, lingering smile that never failed to convey a message of friendship and goodwill, Kitty said:
"Yes it is. It's really sad Bodi and I'd rather not say more about it, if you don't mind."
Bodi, the first nurse, looked at the second nurse, folding her arms around her ample bosom in a mocking stance as she said:
"Here we go again, Mercy. Kitty walks into the ward at the beginning of a shift and doesn't want to talk. We have a long day ahead of us. Let's hope young Doctor Sekopo is the one on duty today."
Mercy, the second nurse was drawn into the conversation.
"Come on Kitty. You know Bodi won't let the subject go until she's exhausted her huge appetite for gossip. Humor her"
"There's no humor in this case," replied Kitty. "There's no humor at all and you girls don't even know all the facts about it, so shut up and go to work."
"And what facts are there we don't know of Kitty?" insisted Bodi. "We know the poor thing lost her mother to AIDS and now she's going too. What else is there?"
"That's what you know Bodi," replied Kittty. "That's what you know, and it's not the full story."
Mercy was becoming increasingly interested in the conversation whilst Bodi's heaving breasts strained against their imprisoning fabric, expressing the mounting excitement of the young lady.
"Kitty, don't speak in codes or Bodi will bust her bra," said Mercy laughing.
"Yeah, Kitty. Tell it as it is. Who slept with whom, where and when?" Bodi was incessantly curious.
"It's not a sex scandal Bodi," replied Kitty. "It's a detail that all of you girls miss when defaming this poor girl."
"What is it then?" The two nurses asked simultaneously.
"Okay, but promise you won't tell anyone and that would put an end to this subject," Kitty said.
"Yes, we do," said Mercy.
"Yes, I do," said Bodi.
Kitty looked at Bodi with distrusting eyes before saying:
"Bodi, if your mouth was a country of secrets it would be devoid of inhabitants by now. This is a medical matter Bodi and it's not for idle chatter."
"Oh Kitty," protested Bodi. "Why does everyone distrust me? I don't tell professional secrets anyway."
Kitty decided to upload the secret she had kept for over a year and download it onto her colleagues. It was almost an act of relieving herself of shouldering the burden of of secrecy.
"Okay," said Kitty. "When Pidipidi first came to this hospital a year and half ago, she was not HIV positive."
"Huh?" The two nurses interjected.
"Yes," Kitty continued. "Her mother was. She wasn't."
"Kitty, you've got it all wrong," said Bodi, her dark eyes round with disbelief. " Look she's nine years old and she's tested positive…all the symptoms point to full blown AIDS."
"Yes, Bodi," replied Kitty. "She's HIV positive now. She wasn't when she was first here sharing a room with her mother. There are records you know. I'm not just talking. This is not hearsay."
The stunned nurses stared at their colleague, puzzled.
"So, she got the virus from…?" Mercy asked, letting the question drift in space as if unfinished.
"She's not sexually active," Kitty said. "Her mother was a loving and extremely careful woman. Pidipidi did not get infected at home."
"Where then?" asked Bodi. The suspension was killing her.
Kitty, rearranged a cluster of bottles on the trolley she was beginning to push as she replied:
"That little girl was infected in this hospital."
        ….. …….. …. ………..


                Chapter II


It was at that stage that Dr Marcus Sekopo, a favorite among the nurses, walked into the ward. He overheard the last bits of the nurses' conversation.
"Alright girls, break it up," Dr Sekopo said sharply, his young, handsome features strained in an attempt to muster as much authority of pose as possible. "Kitty, could I please see you in my office."
Kitty and the other two nurses exchanged glances, then shrugging her shoulders she followed dr Sekopo into the small office where Dr Sekopo took a seat behind a wooden oval shaped desk, his stethoscope hanging casually around his neck. He pointed to a chair in front of the desk and Kitty took the seat, demurely crossing her stockinged, long, brown legs.
"Kitty, we didn't know this information had already gone out," said Dr Sekopo, looking apologetically at the nurse while toying with a pen holder on the desk in front of him. "The superintendent ought to be the one to confirm this to you ladies but seeing as you already know, It's only fair to tell you. But you have to promise not to share what I am going to say to you with your girl friends or anybody else. They know enough already. Can I trust that you would keep the confidence?"
"Of course doctor," replied Kitty. "I've kept this to myself for a while now and only mentioned it because I felt obligated to the little girl in a way. I knew she didn't contract the virus from her mother, although it puzzles me then how she got to catch it."
Dr. Sekopo studied the nurse's face in an intense look before replying:
"Kitty, the little girl, Pidipidi, has been interfered with."
"Interfered with?" asked Kitty.
"Yes," replied the doctor. "She, how do I put it? She has been…"
As the nurse stopped in mid sentence Kitty felt a growing rage inside her.
"Doctor, I'm a nurse," she said in a subdued voice that nonetheless conveyed her restrained anger. "If there's anything you want to share with this little girl, please do so. She might need all the help she can get and I'm not too sure she will have enough of that, seeing how the hospital has already betrayed her."
Dr Sekopo coughed nervously before saying:
"I truly understand your anger, Kitty, but the fact is…the hospital didn't betray Pidipidi. The girl is a victim of abuse."
Kitty felt the room spinning as the air increased in density until she thought she would collapse.
Looking at her Dr Sekopo was about to rush around the desk towards her when Kitty said:
"I'm okay doctor. I'm fine. It's not me who needs help. Oh My God! Abused? How? Where? By whom?"
"A relative Kitty," replied the doctor. "An uncle who's been living with them since Pidipidi's mother died.
Kitty stood up and despite the limited space in the room began pacing, in the process upsetting the chair she was sitting on which crashed to the floor. She bent to put the chair back in place.
"Dr Sekopo," she managed to get back her voice. "Has this been reported to the police? Where's this monster that did this to the child?"
"He's in police custody," Dr Sekopo promptly responded hoping to calm the agitated nurse and fearing that he might have to give Kitty some sedative. "When we realized that Pididpidi had been interfered with we called in a child psychologist who managed to get the story from the little girl. It wasn't easy and despite all the heart-rending stories we've heard and the endless episodes of death and suffering in the medical profession, this case has the worst profile."
"I hope he burns in hell," snorted Kitty. "I hope…I wish they hanged beasts like him."
Kitty stopped speaking when she lifted her face and saw the pain in Dr Sekopo's eyes. She had never seen a doctor so emotionally affected by a medical case before.
"Kitty, there's more bad news I'm afraid," said the doctor, lowering his eyes.
"How bad can it get doctor?" replied Kitty, now in a hushed tone.
Dr Sekopo replied:
"The girl's aunt and guardian committed suicide last night. She left a note. She felt she had let her deceased sister down. That's the women's youngest brother who abused Pidipidi."
Kitty felt waves of nausea rising and falling in a storm of emotions now wrecking her body and before Dr Sekopo could catch her, she fainted and fell to the floor crashing on the wooden chair she had been sitting on. The sound of crashing wood and a thud as the nurse's body fell overcame the restraint of the other nurses who rushed into the office and helped Dr Sekopo move the listless nurse into a consulting room where they placed her on a couch. Dr Sekopo immediately administered a mild sedative as nurse Kitty moaned, regaining consciousness.




In another part of the hospital where Pidipidi lay, the little girl's diseased limbs were too weak to allow her to scratch herself. Although the room was well lit, Pidipidi began to see growing dusk and misty shapes began forming above her face. Curiously, one of the ghostly, wavy shapes took the form of her mother's face and suddenly the little girl was not afraid anymore. Pidipidi was once more in her bedroom back home with her mother sitting beside her, her favorite bedtime story book, "Beauty and the Beast" in her soft, loving hands. As Mother Shadi continued reading with an ever broadening smile, Pidipidi felt the soothing drowsiness of sleep overcoming her. From a distance she heard a different voice saying, "she is going" and then Pidipidi slipped into a void from which she never awoke.
Simultaneously, a surreal cry of a newly born baby floated across the room and a doctor's voice echoed fresh news:
"It's a girl!"




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