I have now lived some six months with two Ugandans who are traditional doctors. One is called Idi. The other Latif. There is a neighbour teacher and there is a caretaker who also works as a bartender to the building facing the road. We have all been eating together among other things. There is a time I edited a logo for Idi and did exaggerate the price of the T-shirt when it came. He has never paid for it. That introduces the setting. The dream came at 8 am, when I had taken a nap.
It was night, I woke up to do what I cannot remember. Among them was to turn the radio off. Latif had give me One thousand Ugandan note, a five hundred one and another, a hundred. It was not clear for what, maybe Idi's T-shirt. He had a girl in his room as he gave me and was least interested in what I was going to say. I had nicely put the money in a hind pocket thinking least of sending it to the person who had printed the T-shirt.
And I sensed something unusual in the waking. The vocals would not respond, I tried to raise my voice. Out, Idi was doing his usual things, I was not concerned. So I wanted to speak, inside the room, I couldn't. Sound was not there. I felt suffocating. And I was also quickly losing my ability to hear too! So I thought how I should quickly communicate to my mother. Through a text even. But I was also blind! How would I call for help? I thought I had crammed the phone keyboard. Or I would write what was happening to me for somebody to know because I felt like turning paralysed, never to respond to any stimuli. The Bible by the bookshelf I took and holding it up I began chanting. I was becoming weak.
This made me open my door, heard Mwalimu speak outside and weakly I called him to my aid. Pain, mental pain, like the men who were turned to pigs in Odyssey but human mind kept intact. I wanted to ignore my conscience. He was not there...maybe already in his house. So I did hit doors that any person may wake up and help. I knocked Idi's door, saw a normal room that we used to eat in, but the luggages were being parked, like he was leaving that night. Oh! He would live me in that position? Had I known his secrets? Offended him? Help! Help! That took me to Mwalimu's door, no padlock, he was in.
There at his door Idi came by, found me kneeling and bent. He came from behind, got hold of me and inserted his fingers in my molar teeth to remove a small bone of meat that had stuck there. I quickly helped him that I do not swallow it, and down it poured with saliva. Oh, thanks!
And as he finished he gave me a weird look, like a blink, a thing I have never seen him look like. He went to his room. I had only felt easy and could see, not talk. A certain thin lady quickly entered the compound and straight to my room and bed. Ha! The devil. And she was my next affliction, me on her. Noo, Idi, nooo, I called him. He came to look. I could not wish for that in my state. She was troubling. He may have summoned her. And I was not in, but dwell out.
Several puppies were around, things that have never been seen here, they desiring to bite me. How do I help? I got out mucus and they went for it looking ugly by the trails. I saw people in his room, did they come often at night when we slept? Children came, they played with me, I crawled by them, I was always kneeling to tell Idi 'I am Sorry', for anything bad I may have done to you. The children, as we played, made me get my voice back, somehow.
Sweating, sun outside, fearful, I told myself, It is just a dream, spit saliva. And opening the door, wishing for the best, Idi was bringing in a customer, in a dark face, people seeking for healing.
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