Wednesday, 10 April 2013
‘Have you taken the Amitriptyline that I gave you to try?’ Pauline asked her daughter.
Rose rolled her eyes. ‘I told you I’m not taking those things. Dr Chamberlain prescribed them for you not me. Nothing wrong with my head.’
‘Oh, yeh. I guess that makes me a nutter!’
Rose shrugged in defiance to her mother’s hand holding out the sunset yellow pill to her.
They say if you give time a chance, there is nothing it can’t heal.
Pauline used to believe it but as she sat next to her daughter, scrutinising her from the corner of her eye she wasn't sure anymore. Seven years was long enough by anyone’s standards. She knew she was doing the right thing. Some things needed more than just time.
Seconds later a voice could be heard through the intercom.
‘That’s us dear.’ Pauline said signalling to her daughter to gather their luggage.
It had been announced that the Mbuya Nehanda Boeing 737 was boarding at Gate number 21.
‘We better get moving. It will take us at least fifteen minutes to get there. With my arthritis I can't walk very fast.’ Pauline said.
Harare International Airport was a hive of activity. Black, white, coloured and yellow folk, they all scurried in different directions. If this country is that bad, why are all these tourists still flooding in? Rose wondered silently as she studied each and every face heading towards the opposite direction.
The two women weaved their way impatiently through the crowds, Rose in front and Pauline hobbling a few steps behind.
‘This is the answer, you will see.’ Pauline said through gasps of air.
‘But London mother? Don’t you think it’s a little extreme?’