adminTo put icing to the already poisoned cake, they seized the defenceless woman’s arm and dragged her by the same limb out of the ward accusing her of bearing the worm that was eating into their son.
True, Admire was not in a pleasing state.
He had grown pale while his eyes bore the hallmarks of someone at the point of retiring from this world for a life with angels elsewhere.
He could no longer eat, sit or talk.
“I told you long back such town women are not good at all. She is rushing here to pretend as if she cares, yet she is after Admire’s assets. Zvino wedu akangoti dhii chete, anochitaura chakatadzisa imbwa kuseka kunyenama richigona,” an unkempt lady who was leading the bellicose lot said while pumping her chest with an air of victory.
Men who were part of the group nodded in agreement.
They took Rumbi’s handbag, emptied the contents into their pockets, and threw it at lightning speed at the owner.
Admire saw what was happening, but he neither had the strength to restrain them nor the voice to register displeasure.
“Witch,” “prostitute,” “gold digger,” “killer,” Admire’s relatives shouted at Rumbi, making her cry worse than a child seeing his toy getting crashed by a lorry.
The walls of the world seemed to be collapsing around her fast.
In the twinkling of an eye, the relatives had forgotten that Admire was not famous for his ability to observe chastity.
His list of conquests ranged from housemaids to divorcees and even married women of loose morals.
In his heyday, he called himself “giant feller” or “bolt cutter” because of the size and number of women he bedded.
Countless non-resident children were there for everyone to see the results of his bed-hopping.
At times friends would be invited to ogle through the keyhole on his bedroom door just how competent he was between the sheets.
It was sad the relatives had elevated Admire to a saint at the expense of his wife who was also a victim.
Such are the trials and tribulations our sisters are facing at the hands of relatives of their husbands whenever sickness visits the home.
The communities in which we live are not making the situation any better.
Once one falls ill, he becomes talk of the neighbourhood.
Even those known never to have money to buy their own liquor will quip: “Today I had enough to buy almost everyone a beer, but I had to buy fruits for my ailing neighbour so that’s why my pocket is lean.”
“Mazuva ano urwere hwapararira semoto wesora saka tinofanira kuzvibata,” you hear people making such derogatory remarks in a hospital ward.
Lack of education on how to handle illness makes the situation become even more desperate.
At workplaces, any sign or illness in a colleague makes a catalogue of the rogue want to blame the sick for their situation.
“Wainyanyawo mhani iwe mudhara. Chiona wagarwa matunduru neurwere,” some workmates will say to draw laughter from colleagues in a packed canteen.
“Oh hoye hoye nyamutamba nemombe abaiwa,” some people will burst into this chorus on seeing an emaciated neighbour disembark from a kombi.
The way some women behave in such circumstances makes one think how they would feel if the tables were turned.
Such women go overdrive as though they are also not members of the fairer sex.
There seems to be an unwritten law somewhere that the wife is to blame whenever a rich man or a promising guy falls sick.
“Maonero anguwo zvangu mukadzi wacho ndiye masteki pano apa,” you hear old women saying while making their way up the staircases at either Harare or Parirenyatwa hospitals.
“Had my son remained poor, I am sure he would not have rubbed shoulders with killers of her wife’s ilk. Her eyes tell me that she is behind all the trouble my son is going through.
“Zvondotourairwa wangu wekutumbura ndakanyarara segwayana,” you hear women saying of their daughters-in-law whenever calamity strikes.
Their age-old enemity even goes overdrive when someone gets ill.
“Were it not for a advanced age, I would have kicked that woman. How can a married woman stay on the road to Bhotsvana?
“This a sure result of her endless travels across the borders. Manje kana nyaya yaipa kudai totoona kuti munhu arohwa,” you hear elderly men who are supposed to lead by example saying.
Others will punch the defenceless spouse of their ailing child in front of strangers.
As I commit pen to paper gentle reader, people are getting to the point of exchanging blows in pharmacies, clinics and hospitals countrywide.
Once a man is found to be HIV-positive, people start pointing fingers at the wife.
As I commit pen to paper gentle reader, there are countless men who have been barred from attending their wives’ funerals amid accusations that they infected their partners with HIV.
“Get away from here. Muchadeiko zvamaida zvakaitika?
“She is dead, thank you for infecting her with the virus,” you hear people saying.
Graveside speeches have been abused by most people to attack the surviving spouse and accuse him or her of leading their partner to the grave.
Courts are inundated with cases of people who deny their deceased siblings’ spouses access to property because of HIV/Aids.
So dangerous has the case of HIV/Aids-related illnesses and deaths become that it is threatening to tear communities apart.
More discussions still need to be done to ensure people know how well to conduct themselves it the event of an illness visiting the home.
And with the advent or early detection of the sickness, there is no more need to worry.
Instead of people rushing for scapegoats, it does our relations a lot better to get tested early and start anti-retroviral treatment early.
This is not time to fight, get tested.
Inotambika mughetto.
Online Reporter