Ghetto Dances: A heavy burden was lifted off my shoulders

By Onie Ndoro | Sep. 24, 2023

Very few people could afford medical aid. I felt some relief when Mai VaPara talked of some herbs that could heal my wife.

When I arrived home from work, I found Mai VaMaidei in the kitchen.

She was lying on a mat which was spread on the floor. Maidei and the other two children were crowded around her.

I knelt down and observed that she was in a sweat and seemed to be in great pain.

“What is going on here?” I asked. I was alarmed at the same time. I felt for her brow with my open palm.

Her temperature was too high. She had a fever. She was even shivering. She stared at me vacantly.

And just at that moment, there was a knock at the door. We looked at each other.

“Does anyone know that you are not well?” I asked.

She shook her head slowly as she had no strength.

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I went to open the door. It was Mai VaPara. She had a market stall next to Mai VaMaidei.

“I did not see you at the market all day,” said Mai VaPara.

“She is sick,” I said.

She hovered around briefly while shaking her head from side to side at the same time.

“I had the same sickness last month, I felt nausea and vomited a lot,” said Mai VaPara.

“I know of herbs that will heal her,” she said.

I had no money to take her to the hospital. I had no medical aid to come to my rescue in times like this.

Very few people could afford medical aid. I felt some relief when Mai VaPara talked of some herbs that could heal my wife.

“Don’t take her to the hospital, people are dying there,” she said as she went out in a hurry.

It was already dark. There was no electricity so I lit a candle. When I added one more blanket so that she could be warmer, she threw it vigorously away.

I was at a loss of words. She was shivering and all the while sweating. I felt helpless. She was in need of emergency help.

While I was also trying to figure out what to cook for the children, Mai VaPara was back, holding some herbs in a bunch.

“This is zumbani, boil it, it will work wonders,” she said proudly.

Before I could do anything, she lit the small gas stove which had seen better days. A jar of water was on the table.

She took a small black pot, added some zumbani and poured water in the pot. I was hopeful.

Marwadzo, my youngest child was close to tears.

“Your mother will be well, “I said, trying to reassure all my children that their mother was not in danger.

While we were waiting for the concoction to boil, I said, “Let us all pray, let's join hands and pray for God to intervene.”

I had not prayed in a very long time, nevertheless, I made a steadfast prayer to the Almighty God asking for divine healing and restoring my wife to good health.

I even went a step further, and quoted Isaiah 43:1-3 which ended thus,”For I am the Lord Your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Saviour.”

All my children including Mai VaPara said, “Amen!”

By the time I finished the prayer, the water had already boiled and Mai VaPara was trying to help Mai VaMaidei to drink the concoction.

After the prayer, I felt quite some relief. It was high time I should be more spiritual and devote my life to God.

After one hour or so, the concoction did not seem to bring any relief. Mai VaMaidei was even more feverish. I was alarmed. She pointed at her abdomen.

“What is it?”

She made some gestures with her hands. ”The stomach?” I asked. She nodded. She was complaining of abdominal pain.

This was not looking good at all. I was thinking of going to see Baba VaTata and borrow some money so that I could take her to the doctor.

Mai VaPara had offered to cook for the children. At least that was one less problem for me.

Mai VaMaidei was trying to whisper something to me. I got closer to her. She whispered in my ear.

I could feel her hot breathe blowing in my ear. This was terrifying.

“There is money under the mattress,” she whispered hoarsely.

Sure enough, there was a small stash of money in a small khaki envelope. I did not ask any questions.

I was actually relieved. The money was not much, but it was enough to seek medical help.

Mai VaMaidei was in no condition to walk so I had to find some form of transport.

I ran down Hwata Street. Mandebvu one of our neighbours agreed to provide transport for a small fee.

And by the time we reached the medical chambers, Mai VaMaidei was gibberish and had high fever.

The medical staff immediately attended to her. I waited patiently. I was close to tears.

After what seemed a very long time but in actual fact, it was barely thirty minutes since we had arrived,

Dr Tsuro, who was much younger than me appeared and said, "She will make it, she has malaria and if you had delayed by a few minutes, worse could have happened to her.”

I was relieved. A heavy burden was lifted off my shoulders. My wife was safe. Tomorrow looked bright.

God does not forsake his people.