The Light That Shimmers
  The rays from the sun seeps through the blinds in dozens of horizontal stripes running across my face. I turn away from the window to face the journalist who now gestures for me to begin speaking. I inhale once and brace myself for what I am about to do.
  "This is my story," I begin.
"When people asked, I'd always tell them that Mubanga was my mother when in reality, she was my older sister; she took the role of mother eight years ago when our mother died. I don't remember much about my mothers death because I was only seven when it happened, but what I do know, was that it was an untimely death. Life was beyond difficult for me, my two younger brothers and my three sisters. I suppose the suffering was only exacerbated by mothers death. I remember we'd go weeks without anything to eat but fish soup and the few birds my youngest brother Dalitso caught. We all had to stop school;I was in second grade while Mubanga in seventh. Life was dreadful, until one day, Mubanga decided to look for a job in the city. As oldest, I took Mubanga's responsibility of looking after four children. When she returned from the city, I tasted milk and eggs for the first time in my life. She had found a job as a maid in one of the town houses and was able to send enough money for three meals. Three months later, we all returned to school.
  Early in the morning before I left for school, I would prepare breakfast and lunch for my siblings and clean the hut, then I would spend my whole day at school. I loved school so much and I easily performed top of my class every single year. In grade eight, I met my life time best friend Inonge. She would help me with chores and work around the house, then on weekends, we would take my brothers and sisters to the village library to watch TV.
    Life finally started to go well for us. But it didn't last very long. Everything began to fall apart. It all started when I didn't hear from Mubanga for a whole month. The first news I heard of Mubanga, was from Lilanda, Mubanga's boss in the city. The news she gave me tore my heart into bits...and the pieces left awful cuts inside my body. Mubanga had been hospitalized and had been in critical condition for five weeks. Lilanda told me that if I could come to the city at once, it would help expedite Mubanga's recovery. Even though Lilanda tried to sound calm, her voice gave it all up. I had never been to the city, and I always thought the reason I would come here would be to attend Mubanga's wedding, or to attend school...not see my sister in pain.With the directions Lilanda gave me, I found Chambeshi General Hospital. The ward Mubanga was in was 6C, and I proceeded slowly to her ward.
Her face was grey, like cement on an unpainted wall. Her lips were cracked, as if she had not drunk water in ages. Her body lay still, but my tears didn't. They ran continually down in ever flowing rivulets leading into streams. I must have not noticed the woman who entered the room, but I recognized her name when she introduced herself as Lilanda. "It is going to be fine, she's only sleeping. She will be fine," Lilanda said, and she spoke the truth. Mubanga was up within the next hour, but she lacked the strength and energy she always had. She couldn't talk either, but tears ran down her face. To me, her tears said more than I could withstand in a million life times. I slept at Lilanda's house for the next three weeks and Mubanga seemed to be recovering remarkably. December twenty first was the day Mubanga first talked and I still remember her words: "Monica, you and the others were the reason for my living. You are the reason I am still fighting hard to survive. But listen, if I don't make it, I don't want you to be sad. There is no time for that. You need to continue with school at all costs do you hear me?"
"Do not talk like that Mubanga, you will make it. I know," I replied with tears helplessly flooding my eyes. "I...I love you," she said now whispering with a faint smile on her face that I will never forget because it was the last time she ever smiled. She fell asleep...and I remember she wouldn't wake up.
It said she died of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia on her grave stone. The doctors said she fought harder than she could, but only 20 percent of people with this rarity survived in Zambia. After the burial, when everybody left, was when it really hit me the worst. That was it. That was the last time I ever saw my sister...and mother; I had lost Mubanga. Hysteria took over, and I ran screaming to her grave pounding and crying hard. I thought that if I pounded hard enough that the earth would bring her out, but it did not. I thought that if I cried hard enough, the tears would wash away the soil and bring her back, but they did not. I stood crying and screaming at her grave, burying myself in soil, burying myself in tears, but it was hopeless. It did nothing; it didn't bring her back. Mubanga was gone...and my life could never be the same  again.
My brothers and sisters back in the village had no idea of Mubanga's passing, and I did not intend on telling them just yet. I knew that Mubanga meant everything to them, but also, I knew that she meant what she said when she said that there was no time for grief; a house full of little poignant reminders would not help. Essentially, the struggles really only started after Christmas break when there was no money to send all my brothers and sisters to school. My two sisters had to stop school, leaving only my two brothers and I still in school. One day I fell ill and went home, only to find my brother home playing with stick figures. The sudden rage that came over me that day left permanent marks on my small brothers body when I beat him that day for staying home from school. It was the first and last time I ever beat any of my siblings.
  Eventually all the money I saved up from Lilanda's token of goodwill was almost gone and the inevitable occurred; I had to stop school myself only in grade eight. I completely failed to fulfill my sisters one last dying wish and that was for me to complete school. I never understood the reason why people in my class had always done drugs until that point, but I could never bring myself to do it. "
***
The whole studio is in tears at this point, and the make up team arrives to fix my face, but I don't think they will have much luck, what with the tears and all. I have never told this story to anybody, and so the emotions I have kept locked are running wild. "President Monica, will be on in thirty seconds, do you think you can make it?" The reporter asks. I nod my head in response because if I speak, my voice will be filled with melancholy.
***
I take one more deep breath and face the camera to complete my story:
"Life took a turn for the worst. Until one day, Inonge helped me grow a vegetable and tomato garden, and in a short while, I was able to have some produce. News had already gone around about Mubanga's death, and for the first weeks, people bought all my tomatoes at the market out of pity and there love for Mubanga. I was able to raise enough money for my siblings to start eating two meals a day. After, business plateaued and only fifty percent of the tomatoes would be sold, and the other half became rotten and we would eat them for supper. It went on and the amount sold only decreased and decreased, and so did my hopes and dreams. I once dreamed of becoming a doctor, or the first female chief of the village, but these dreams were now so far out of reach I almost laughed at myself for thinking such could be possible.
  I started to shun and push away my only friend Inonge, and at that point, I never did understood why I did that, but later I discovered it was because I was jealous. I would watch her walk to the bus station in uniform ready to learn, while I stayed behind, watching her, as I began selling tomatoes at the market. I would watch her return home from school eating lunch that costed probably more that I made in the entire week.
I would watch her gulp down the rarity of cold water as she walked home while I stood under the intense scorching heat of the sun with flies all around my sweaty body. I watched her. I envied her. I envied her easy life, as she had barely any struggle but the occasional simple rough day at school, while I had to deal with finding a way to feed five mouths at only the age of fifteen. But worst of all, I envied that she could still go to school. At that point I would give up my whole life just so I could return to school, just so I could sit in a classroom again, just so I could sit on a desk and absorb every single bit of the teachers knowledge. But I couldn't, and it seemed very unlikely.
The next day was the day everything finally changed. It started in the morning when the "detective" came into the market, specifically my stand. He pointed at my tomatoes and asked in a voice that sounded too light, too ethereal,"can I have all these?" I looked down at the tomatoes and being in the heat for too long they were bad, but he didn't seem to mind. I packed them in a plastic and he handed me a k100 for tomatoes that only costed k21. "Sorry sir, I will not have change for this kind of money," I said."So? Who said I wanted change. It's yours," he replied.
I was surprised by the generosity of this man and I was unable to speak. I simply bowed my head multiple times to show gratitude. "My name is Bill," he said, "I am from One Cancer One Wish organization. I am here to fulfill Mubanga's dying wish.""Which was?" I asked. "To change you and your family's lives forever," he replied, "c'mon, you are going back to school..." he replied.