This is the last episode of my long story.
I am just about to complete self-quarantining and from experience, it is also not a joke. You have to lock yourself up.
But for someone who had gone through such a traumatic bitter experience, like me, it meant recovery time.
For this reason, I chose to keep my release a secret — simply because it will invite everybody to come and see me, some out of love and others out of curiosity.
Self-quarantine has worked for me. I needed to heal, rejuvenate and rest. Therefore, I set my phone on silent mode.
I would respond to messages and calls at my own convenience. If anything, I was not ready to lose the little sanity left.
At this point in time, I was the only VIP in my life. My son cooked and brought food to my room.
I had informed my concerned daughter of my release, but save for that one phone call, we did not communicate again for the next seven days.
No one has any idea of the essence of leaving people in crisis alone to strategise and think. Pity parties do not do a wounded person any justice. One needs peace and quiet not alarming concerns.
On March 17, a day after leaving mandatory quarantine, I started my counselling sessions with a government counsellor.
I was so rude to her the first time, and perhaps with a reason. How would the same government which had taken me through the turmoil in the camp want to treat my wounds?
Why were they following me to my home? I told her off. That she should leave me alone. The bitterness I had shaken off came back tenfold.
The anger, abandonment, victimisation and anything negative flooded my already clogged mind. Surprisingly, she did not give up.
She continued calling and I would either ignore or tell her off. However, on the fifth day, I am the one who called her.
I couldn’t contain my emotions. With no one to talk to, it had reached a point of weeping. I poured out all my fears and emptiness to her.
She listened and talked to me for over 40 minutes. About forgiveness, letting the bitterness go so that healing would start.
About my mental health and character. Some people are just gifted, God-send, or both. I woke up, dusted down and took a shower. I started living.
After one week, my fellow quarantines were released. Luckily, my prayers were answered, the government waived their bills and they walked home free.
However, the same experience I had awaited them back home. They started calling me with the same issues. Stigmatisation.
Others were so bitter while one said her partner was now anti-social. She found it hard to relate with her family.
Another one did not want to speak to anyone, not even her mum. Majority complained of fatigue and I related well since I still felt permanently tired and worn out.
So much had been bottling up. I can only deal with my own quagmire right now. Dealing with friends.
On the flip side, there have been some very good people. Like one neighbour who has been doing the market errands and shopping for me and just called from the gate.
She does not bother me with insisting to see me. In fact, she has not seen me yet.
Then there are other gestures like someone tending my farm and making sure it is all well. Others just send short messages which is very encouraging.
There are friends from social media that I have never met and are now my great family. Surprisingly, for some friends, life is normal for everyone, including me.
On the eighth day, I didn’t rest. I went out to work on my flowers. Trimming and pruning. It felt so great. Little passions we take for granted keep us alive.
Then my daughter came! This was the best thing to happen since all this nightmare began! We had such a lengthy catch up.
Sad that we could not hug. I felt so light. That night I slept like a baby. How love and compassion can heal faster than drugs.
The following day we went out to the salon and market. What surprised me is the enthusiasm of hand washing at the local market. There were community cops ensuring that that happened.
Did I accomplish my mission to Spain? Yes and No. Yes that I learnt my resilience level is so high and that I’m such a strong woman.
No, because I did not heal from my dad’s death and putting my grief on hold only made me weak emotionally and mentally.
I have now embarked on reaching out to all my friends on quarantine and helping out where I can.
Finally, I appreciate and thank my two friends, John Kamau and Tom Osanjo, for helping me tell my story to multitudes.
For any benefit my story has had on any reader, I say asante. As to my daughter Soni and Carl, my host’s son in Spain, my appreciation is beyond words.
Without your help, maybe I would still be locked down in Spain. Mandatory quarantine taught me how to live with strangers.
My faith in God and the governing authority is now stronger. I trust less and responding to my conscience and gut feeling is now key. Listening to that little voice can save a situation. I have learnt. The hard way.
