Loving Kindness

I jumped to take a shot. When I landed, I felt a sharp pain on my left knee. It was excruciating, and unlike anything I had ever experienced. I fell on the ground and clutched my leg, signalling my need for medical attention. I was immediately taken off the court and the game continued. When I got to the hospital, several tests were carried out, and it was determined that I tore my ACL, the major ligament in the knee, which connects the thigh bone to the shin bone. The doctor disclosed that I would need to have surgery to repair the damage. That meant I would be out of the varsity team for at least 6 months. I was devastated, but I also wanted to walk again.

It was an outpatient surgery. Finding someone to accompany me to the hospital became the challenge. I had just transferred to the University of Wisconsin in Superior, didn’t have friends, and was far away from family. My teammates had other commitments, so they could not afford to spend the whole day with me in a hospital. An acquaintance introduced me to Sabrina (Sab). She was also an international student from Kenya, and had been in Superior a little longer than I had. She was familiar with the area and could be of great assistance.

Sabrina was warm, easy going, and kind. Upon hearing my troubles, she immediately offered to help. On the day of the surgery, Sab called a taxi, picked me, and we headed to the hospital. She abandoned everything and stayed with me while doctors prepared me to go into the theater. The surgery was successful and when I opened my eyes, Sab was the first person I saw comfortably seated by my bedside reading a book. I looked at her with so much appreciation. She had just met me, and we were not even that close, yet she took it upon herself to be there for me. The doctors checked to make sure I was comfortable. After all examinations, I was cleared to go home. Sab called a cab, gathered my stuff while I sat in a wheelchair as a nurse wheeled me to the exit and helped me into a cab. 

For proximity, I moved into a room in the same building Sab lived. Her room was a floor above mine. I had no idea recovering from a knee injury would be so tasking. I could not take a shower because staples were used in place of traditional stitches. I had to be wiped clean. I needed someone to help me to the bathroom, to cook, wash my clothes, and just generally take care of me.  Even when I had to pee in the middle of the night, I would call Sab and she came to help me despite being very sleepy. Sab did all with no complaints, and without ever asking for compensation. She has a heart of gold.

Over the next few months and as I got better, Sab and I got closer. We had the same classes at the same times, and we helped each other with homework. We enjoyed cooking, going to the movies, grocery shopping, and even church. Sab loved shopping  and would spend hours in the shopping mall only to return with ONE beautiful dress. But I am the type of person who does research before going to the mall, so I know exactly what I want, where to get it, and how much it cost. I would go in and come out. Despite our different shopping preferences, we fell deeply in love with each other and it was beautiful. 

Sabrina was raised in a staunch Catholic home, just like me. We were taught that it was a sin to miss Mass and it was also a sin to have a homosexual relationship. But we were in love. It was weird. We would have just finished a hot lovemaking session the previous night, then rush to church on Sunday. While we were there, we reverently prayed to god asking for help to overcome this lesbian thing. Our prayer point was becoming mundane and I started to feel like our prayers would never be answered because the feelings never went away. After church, we’d go home, and continue from where we left off on Saturday night. Afterwards, I felt very guilty and ashamed. But we could not help ourselves. We were incredibly attracted to each other.

Back in Kenya, Sabs parents were already asking when she was getting married. We were both closeted, and coming out to her parents was a no-no. It was not even an option. To her, this was a phase that we both would grow out of one day. She was very concerned about public perception, so we never discussed our relationship with anyone. In fact, in public, one could hardly tell that we were lovers. Sab never wanted to be identified as lesbian. In her head, we weren’t even lesbians, let alone admit it to anyone else. I would tease her about it, and even in the comfort of my arms, she would deny. 

We continued living our happy and very private life until she met Marcus while she vacationed in Scotland one summer. Marcus is also Kenyan, and a cousin to her friend, who, apparently, orchestrated their meeting. Sab told me about Marcus and that he had expressed interest in her. Since this was not the first male to do so, I did not think much of it until I started hearing his name more often than I thought was necessary. The phone calls became more frequent, and before I knew it, he was planning to visit from Scotland. Why was it necessary for him to visit her? I could not understand why she would even entertain the idea.

After many fights and days of not speaking, Marcus finally visited. Since I am the kind of person who wears my emotions on my sleeves, it was difficult to hide my displeasure. Not only was he visiting her, but she allowed him pass the night in her room – on the other bed. I did not close my eyes that night. I was worried sick that he would try something. So, I stayed awake to protect her. I lay in bed facing them with my eyes wide open. I just could not make sense of what was happening. 

When Marcus finally left, Sab and I had a long conversation. She told me she had no intention of continuing our relationship after school because pressure from home was too great. She comes from a prestigious family, and they expected her to get married – to a man. In her mind, coming out would disgrace her family, destroy the relationship they have, and generally make life unbearable for her. She said she wanted to start a serious relationship with Marcus, and that signaled the Armageddon of our beautiful life. I was jealous, angry, frustrated, and confused.

I sort of saw this coming because she is not one to rock the boat. She always laughed off the idea of us sharing a life together after school. Still, the ease and decisive manner in which Sab spoke made me feel like everything we shared meant nothing. She expressed no intention of fighting for us. It was as if she was resigned to her fate. I suddenly realised that although she loved me – and I have never doubted that – it wasn’t enough. I was shattered…