Waiting by Goretti Kyomuhendo

Author:Goretti Kyomuhendo [Kyomuhendo, Goretti; Daymond, M.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781558619173
Publisher: The Feminist Press at CUNY

fourteen

Two weeks later, I was still bedridden. The Liberators had arrived. I was eager to see them but was told that they lived near the forest on the large expanse of land that belonged to Uncle Kembo.

Nyinabarongo had taken over the running of our house during the time I was sick and the days that followed my recovery. Jungu minded the baby, and Maya took charge of the lighter chores.

One afternoon, when I was beginning to feel strong enough to go outside, Nyinabarongo came and joined me under the mango tree. She said I needed to exercise a little since I had lain in bed for so long. She asked me to accompany her to the old man’s house since she was going to check on his health.

We found the old man lying on a mat in the shade of a small avocado tree. Thick shrubs and tall guava trees surrounded the house, which was small and roofed with rusted corrugated iron sheets.

I inched forward hesitantly, not knowing how he would receive me, or whether Mother’s ghost would be angry with me, since she had forbidden us to ever visit him. I had never been there before. Nyinabarongo found a short wooden bench inside the house that she carried outside, and she beckoned me to sit on it with her. The old man did not seem to know that we were there. His eyes roamed aimlessly around the yard, and he constantly licked his dry lips.

Nyinabarongo got up and knelt by his side, feeling his forehead. I avoided looking at the stump, which looked freshly bandaged with a kanga, and instead concentrated on the old man’s remaining foot, noticing that the big toe pointed away from the rest of the toes, which made it look rather strange.

“Are you still in pain?” Nyinabarongo asked gently.

“Yes,” he groaned, trying to turn his head, “especially my toes. That’s where the greatest pain is.” Droplets of sweat were streaming down his face.

“He’s running a very high temperature,” Nyinabarongo said. “I think you’d better fetch the Lendu woman and ask her to bring some of her herbs.”

I walked off quickly, almost running, feeling pleased with myself that I was finally regaining my strength. I stopped to pick some guava fruits, which were lying under the trees, and stuffed them in the pockets of my dress. The Lendu woman was not at her house, and I proceeded to Uncle Kembo’s to ask him if he knew where she was. I found her there, washing Uncle Kembo’s clothes. They both commented on how much better I looked. I had to wait for the Lendu woman as she went to collect the herbs that grew in her compound.

“He says the pain is mainly in his toes, even though the toes are not there,” I told the Lendu woman as we walked to the old man’s house.

“It’s only in his mind,” she replied. “He must have stepped on the landmine with those toes.”

“Will the wound heal?”

“Yes, but it will take a long time.

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