AfriPulse
My girlfriend had an accident while trying to board a trotro to work. She was trying to enter the trotro when out of nowhere, a motorbike drove over her foot.
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The rider didn’t look back. While her foot swelled, the rider kept driving away as if nothing had happened. For over a week, I was with her, applying ointment and running errands for her. I would boil water, dip a towel in, squeeze and place it on her swollen foot. I was doing everything to nurse her back to health.
While working on her, calls came through her phone but she didn’t pick up. She said it was from the office. And then she said it was from the guy replacing her in the office. And then the driver also called. It bothered me but I didn’t ask questions. She didn’t even have legs to cheat with so I let it slide.
I used all forms of ointment on her. When the swelling wasn’t going faster, we had to resort to all forms of ointment that promised quick relief.
I came to smell like ointment. My shirts, my hands, my being. Even when I wasn’t using ointments, I still smelled it in my nose. I was like a walking hospital that cared for only patients with broken bones.
When she fully regained the use of her legs once more, she walked out of what we had and entered into a new relationship with another guy.
The guy looked rich. She wouldn’t have suffered the use of ointments if she were with him when she had the accident. He drove a car that could build a hospital for her. “She left me because I didn’t have money? Or she only loved me because I could massage her leg with ointment?” I wondered.
The relationship ended close to two years ago. I’ve fallen in and out of love again. I’ve met Alice and Tabitha. Both didn’t work out. I seem to get over people and things easily but I can’t seem to get over the scent of ointment. It feels like heartbreak whenever I smell one. It reminds me of what she did to me. It brings the image of me boiling water and dipping towels. It reminds me of labor that didn’t bear any fruit.
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I have waist pains that painkillers aren’t healing but I don’t want an ointment because it brings me trauma. No, I’m no longer in pain because she broke up with me. I have no desire for that relationship. I’ve healed, especially when she called later to ask me to forgive her. I’m at peace with life and love but how do I get rid of the trauma the scent of ointments brings into my life?
—Richard
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