Appreciating Good Health

When I started hearing of the coronavirus about a month ago, I hoped it would not spread to country Kenya. So I was glad to hear my friend Jonathan Karanja say that the coronavirus doesn't affect black people like me.

But then two weeks ago as I was taking Mum to hospital for a medical check-up, the driver who was ferrying us informed us that the coronavirus had been detected in a patient in Kenya. How unfortunate!

Several days later, I overheard some women, who had come to visit Mum at home, say in Kikuyu, "I hear the coronavirus has now reached Matasia!" (Matasia is a small town which is about fifteen kilometres from where we live.)

Since then, I have been learning from government reports that the number of patients with coronavirus in Kenya has been increasing. And that has led to the closure of churches, schools, businesses and government offices as people are fearful of contracting the virus.

Now that the coronavirus has reached my beloved country, I am praying that God may spare my family, relatives and true friends from the virus. I am also praying that authorities all over the world will conquer the virus sooner rather than later, the way Ebola and SARS were conquered. You see, interceding through prayers is the only part I can play in combating the spread of the virus.

Hearing the way coronavirus is causing health complications has reminded me of the times I was seriously ill in the past. One afternoon in the mid '90s when I was in Standard Two or Three for instance, I felt very weak while walking home from school. So weak was I that I kept resting during the walk; it was not business as usual. I must have recovered from that terrible weakness as I can't remember missing school the following day.

Then in 1999 when I was in Standard Six, I became ill when I went to school one day. I apprised my teachers of the way I was feeling. Luckily, the teachers sympathized with me and took me to a clinic in my hometown of Kiserian where I tested positive for malaria. I was weak, restless and lacking appetite for food.

News about my affliction with malaria must have spread like wildfire because a neighbour of ours called Mrs. Deya came to check on me. Thankfully, I recovered from the illness after three or four days.

A few weeks later, on a bitingly cold morning, Mrs. Deya spotted me leaving home without a jacket. With the authority of a parent, she commanded me to go back home and wear extra clothing. I had no choice but to obey her.

And then in 2003 when I was in Form 2 at Starehe Boys' Centre, I had a terrible stomach upset during one lesson held before lunch. I kept suppressing the urge to relieve myself for fear of what my classmates would think of me if I asked for permission to visit the toilet from the teacher who was tutoring us.

After what seemed like an eternity of my unspoken discomfort, the bell for lunch rang, the lesson ended and I rushed to the loo where I had diarrhoea and became well. (By the way, I don't think there has ever lived a person who has never had diarrhoea.)

Remembering those times I have been sick has made me appreciate the good health I am now blessed with. Imagine as I write this story, I am neither in pain nor experiencing any discomfort.

With the worrying spread of coronavirus, I will not to take good health for granted. So I will delight in simple activities like eating, exercising, sleeping at night and relieving myself normally. Health is indeed the greatest wealth.

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