To You, Loather
20th March 2025
Cold drops running down my head to face
The odour of rain and rich soil so pacifying
Indeed delighting every nerve of me
Yet this grief still cutting through my being
For this rawness I can't abide
Cause I've never been desirous this much
Which merely injures when I'm awake
Can't lie to stay up all night without sleeping
Perhaps being hussy as I am puts me here, I think
Merely in this dull life, I don't need sorrows
Merging with all that is torture itself
Perhaps cruelty it is or what?
Can strangeness injure this much awfulness?
Hence I was happy when mama said of going home
Indeed a hushed world is all I crave for
Did it all mean utterly nothing, to you loather?
That night, I apologized for defending myself after he embarrassed me in front of the whole class. Instead of listening, he called off our friendship. I didn't protest. I didn't argue. I didn't beg. I just gave in. I told myself maybe it was finally over. I convinced myself that at least we wouldn't become enemies. I was lying to myself. Every morning he walks into class and greets everyone in our range. Everyone except me. His voice moves across the room as if I don't exist. He asks others for help — even for the smallest things he used to ask me for. Carrying his books to the physics lab. Saving him a seat. Reminding him about assignments. Now he would rather struggle than look at me. During lab sessions, he switches partners. He shifts tables. He adjusts his position as though standing near me burns. He doesn't say a single word to me. Yet he talks to everyone I sit with. He laughs with them. Jokes with them. Skips over me like I'm air. And it is killing me. Reading used to calm me. Now even books can't quiet my nerves. The words blur. My hands tremble when I turn the pages. Everything feels wrong. Everyone keeps telling me I should "get him back," as if he were my husband, as if losing him means losing a life partner. I don't want to get him back. I want to learn how to live without him. Still, I feel jealous. The little favors I used to do for him — he now asks other girls. The small conversations we shared during chatting period — he now has them with Hope, my deskmate, or the girl sitting behind us. He looks happy. As if nothing ever changed. As if nothing ever mattered. Sometimes I watch him laugh and wonder how people do that. How do they break someone and continue living as though nothing happened? How do they breathe normally when you're still choking?
This weekend, there's visiting day, and I don't think mom will come. I don't even know what I'll do if she doesn't. Money is already tight. I lost ten thousand Rwf of my ghee, Eddy, a DJ, and I asked him to lend me a Bluetooth speaker. I even made a playlist and had him put the songs on a disk so we can play them with my gurls. We've been saving our special meals all week so we can combine them on Sunday morning. The canteen is expensive — almost like Serena Hotel — so we plan to make our own small feast in the sickbay. Thank God my brother promises to send me money next week, which helps. At least I'll manage during the holidays. My bestie, Leah's birthday is next month. Rafael's too, but we don't talk anymore, so I don't plan to buy him anything.
Sunday morning, we attend Holy Mass before breakfast because visiting starts afterward. After Mass, we help Leah clean the sickbay, then gather to eat what we've saved. It isn't much, but sharing makes it feel like abundance. Before we finish cleaning, someone calls my name. My mother is already at the gate. I thought she wouldn't come. But there she is — wearing a new green dress, looking beautiful. She has brought me money and some materials, after she has to visit my older sister as well. Normally our visiting days are different, but our headmaster changed the schedule this month. We talked briefly. She greets my friends — even Rafael — because she knows them all. After she leaves, we head to the canteen. Now that we have money, we walk in like the richest girls alive. Girls who don't need boys' money to survive. People watch us as if we are part of a reality show. As if we are some version of the Kardashians. They see confidence. They see laughter. Only God knows how carefully we calculate every coin after each outing. Still, it is fun. We play our playlist loudly. We dance. We tease each other. When we grow tired of the songs, Rafael and his friends come to change the music. That's when I discovered "Bori" by 6ix9ine. They added several good tracks. Before leaving, he hands me his yogurt. It's a small gesture. But it unsettles me. The rest of the day passes in music, food, laughter, then movie time. Later, everyone goes to the refectory. I skipped it. I go to bed early. Tomorrow begins the difficult part.
This week is filled with tough exams. By next Wednesday afternoon, the hardest subjects will be over. All the sciences will be done. This week feels overwhelming — almost suffocating — but I have been revising consistently. I trust God not to let my efforts be wasted. After exams, I will go home immediately. The holidays are only two weeks long, and that includes three holy days I must attend. My mother has arranged tutoring for me, so I will start early. I have always hated the days after exams, when we wait for results before going home. They feel empty. Slow. Lonely. And now, without Rafael, they might feel unbearable. But at least I'll be home. And that has to be enough.