Shrouded in secrecy
A true story as told to a friend, of her last days.
As i leaned my head gingerly against the broken windowpane, i was afraid to move a muscle.The broken glass was shattered, forming a crisscross pattern.
The intense heat wafting through the windows in the bus, which was definitely on its last legs, made me sweaty, itchy and uncomfortable.My eyes felt gritty.I could literally taste the sand and dust from the impoverished desert soil.However, this was a small inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.
It had been eight months since i found out.I could clearly remember the day as if it was yesterday and i could piece together exactly what happened, like an excited child would put together a jigsaw puzzle.However, in my case, there was nothing exciting about that day except that my"Orderly"Life broke into a thousand pieces.
I kept everything to myself;I had no one to talk to and even if i did, i would not have dared to say a word.It would have spread like wildfire in my hometown, agadas.
Living in a small town in agadas, niger(West africa), everyone knew each other's business and nothing was sacred.I had been feeling poorly, but i could not afford to go to hospital or even a clinic.The meagre amount of money i earned from selling groundnuts by the roadside was just enough to feed my children.
Sometimes, i had to go without any food or ration the food among the three of us.My abusive husband had been gone for about 12 years.He is not missed.I heard that he had got married, and had taken second and third wives, in addition, to the first.
I did not consider myself the first.I preferred not to remember that part of my life.At least, i did not have to worry anymore about the constant beatings and his promiscuous lifestyle.Fatima and sani were all i had left.
I finally got the address of a dirtcheap clinic;Surprisingly, the doctor was reputable.The clinic was in the bowels of the city:A place where only desperate people venture.I received the news without a flicker of an eyelid.I had already prepared myself.It did not come across as a surprise as i had suspected the worse all these years.
I had my children tested and i was grateful to god that they tested negative.I made my decision.It felt cowardly, but deep in my heart, i knew it was the best decision to make.
I decided to leave my children with a relative whom i could trust.I knew if i stayed they would be stigmatised and i wanted to spare them.As an orphan, i did not have to worry about my parents.
The bus was heading to the border where i had to get off and change to another bus that will cross over to sokoto, nigeria, and that will take me to my destination, kano, a commercial town.The little money i had tied up in an empty plastic bag of groundnuts was to enrol in an arabic school.I needed to improve my arabic in order to read and understand the quran.I also had to get some work to send money to my children.But plans always go awry as life is never predictable.
We stopped abruptly and everyone jumped out.I asked the young boy on the top of the bus to drop my suitcase.As i picked up my small battered suitcase, i felt lightheaded.I had only fura and nono(A traditional yoghurt drink).The hustle and bustle of kano city was different from what i was accustomed to:The quiet lull of agadas.The cacophony of motorcycles and rickshaws was startling and deafening.
At least, i had a place to stay.A friend of a friend had given me the address of a relative whom i could stay with for a short while until i found my bearings.I fell into a routine at my new place.
I woke up early and said my prayers.I helped my hostess fill bags with ice water to be sold at a shop nearby.My hostess gave me some of the profit she made.I sent almost everything to my children with just a little
Louis Vuitton Bags uk left to survive on.I studied for three hours a day at the arabic school and came back to my small room, which resembled a cell, but it was mine and that was what mattered.
Day after day, i felt the energy leaving my body like flour that is being sifted through the sieve.A couple of months after arriving in kano, i started to lose weight rapidly.I was able to count my ribs and my cheeks were sunken.I knew my days were numbered.I had no friends except for zeenah, a kind lady i had met at the arabic school.She invited me regularly to her house.Her generosity moved me.It took me some time to confide in her because i did not want to be judged.However, i was glad i did because she and her family helped me through my last days.
Eventually, i had to move.My hostess started asking too many questions that i could not answer.Zeenah, my friend, found me a guest room to stay near her house.She also gave me a set of gold jewellery to send to my children.I was so grateful and could not understand how she could trust and help someone that was practically a stranger.But god works in mysterious ways.
I sent word home and my children wanted to come over, but i didn't want them to see what i had become.I was unrecognisable:Railthin, just skin and bones.I could hardly get up from the bed that was the one of two pieces of furniture in my room.Ironically, i was happy and at peace, because my secret was safe and my children would not be ostracised from society.I wasn't afraid of dying.Instinctively, i knew i had only a few days left, and very soon, i will slip into unconscious sleep and i won't wake up ever again.
Camelot II residents deal with mountains of trash
Don't miss:Readers' choice 2013june happeningsmyspy:Texas comicondream home:Beauty exudes old world charm'90s pop starscomics games, offers fair warning to those intent on dropping by for a visit at her northeast bexar county townhouse: "You will be shocked,"She says of the alley behind her home that's been turned into a makeshift landfill. "It's been like that for maybe two years now, and you'd think it's a dump. "
A spry 84yearold, stanton is a 23year resident of camelot ii off walzem road, an area dotted with townhomes and populated with a diverse demographic mix.Stanton said she has seen the oncespotless neighborhood deteriorate as homeowners, some already participants in the federal section 8 subsidized housing program, succumb to economic recession.
Property owners fleeing mortgages or high rents invariably discard items they are unable to transport in the alleys, including the one behind neston drive where stanton lives.
Meanwhile, the pile of trash grows.Despite repeated calls to county officials over the past two years, the mess has yet to be cleaned up.
"When i first came here, it was sort of a pristine neighborhood, and it's slowly deteriorated,"She said., Stanton recently counted 16 couches and eight commodes among the rubbish. And with the accumulated junk comes the problem of vermin and snakes,She said: "I feed an old yellow cat, and he has brought me two rattlesnakes that he killed.It was very kind of him. "
When helping another neighbor with her household chores, she learned of a pest problem there stemming from the makeshift landfill. "She's a nice old woman but she's very ill and was complaining she had rats and mice,"Stanton said. "I've called commissioners and code compliance and all they ever say is'we're working on it, but it will take 90 days.'"
When contacted about the problem, bexar county environmental engineer andrew winter acknowledged the blight.In his position, his department acts as staff for the commissioners court the overall governing body for bexar county with five members, including precinct 4 commissioner overseeing stanton's neighborhood as part of his oversight area.
"She's absolutely right, the situation is desperate out there,"Winter said. "And i wouldn't limit it to neston drive but would include oldham drive and stockport.The streets themselves are problems, but the real issues are the alleyways. "
It would seem simple enough to send a crew to pick up and properly dispose of the trash.But it's just not that easy, he said.
"The county does not own the alleyways,"Winter noted.It would be no different than going
Pandora Charms UK into your garage or driveway and taking your things to the dump. "
Exacerbating the problem is the modest $10, 000 budget his office receives for an annual neighborhood cleanup intended for large items which is still reliant on homeowners or volunteers for the actually hauling and viewed by winter as just a temporary fix.
Add to logistical obstacles the patchwork of overlapping municipalities in the outlying county area including live oak, schertz and converse and the presence of just four inspectors charged with oversight over a swath of county land encompassing some 40, 000 acres.
And even when those inspectors do issue tickets, the homeowners who left the trash behind are long gone and untraceable.
"Fines are determined by the justice of the peace courts.But how do you catch violators in the act? "He asked.
"I only have four inspectors.When we send out notices of violations, they sometimes go to banks because the owners are no longer living in the house. "
Winter agreed the trash piles have grown exponentially since the onset of economic recession. "What's happening is someone, at night when they can't be seen, will see a pile and add two or three piles of trash. (Someone else will)Add another two or three bags and soon you have a mountain of trash. "
But sometime in january, county residents may get something of a holiday gift as commissioners launch"Dump your junk"Day an unprecedented program encouraging cleanup with coupons to waive dumping fees that typically cost $20 to $50.
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