Capítulo 20: 19
A FACE IN THE CROWD
19.
Mom's expression turned stern.
"Precious, why did you tell the doctor to prepare for the lung transplant?" she asked.
I hesitated.
"What do you mean? We have to try," I replied.
Mom's voice dropped to a whisper.
"There's no money, Precious. We can't afford it."
My mind raced.
"Dad has cows and crops... we can sell them," I suggested.
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
"It's all gone," she said, her voice cracking.
"What do you mean by gone?" I pressed.
Mom took a deep breath.
"It's been a year now. Your father took a loan for Bafana's expenses... he didn't pay it back, so he sold everything to settle the debt."
Bafana, Dad's last son from his previous marriage.
I felt a pang of resentment.
"How could he?" I muttered.
Mom's shoulders sagged.
"He thought he was helping his son."
Determination rose within me.
"Then we'll call him, everyone, every relative of the Sechaba family. They'll help," I declared.
Mom shook her head.
"No one will, Precious. They won't."
I refused to give up.
"Let's call a family meeting first. We'll explain the situation," I insisted.
Mom sighed.
"Fine, but I warn you, Precious... they won't be willing to help."
I nodded resolutely.
"We'll see about that."
.
.
.
I left the hospital on Sunday, promising to visit Dad every day. Monday morning arrived, and I reported to the studio as usual.
Meetsi greeted me with a warm smile.
"Precious, I have a new project for you," he said.
"I want you to create a masterpiece. Anything from your mind, no limitations."
My creative juices began to flow.
Six hours flew by in a blur of concentration.
My pencil danced across the canvas, bringing my vision to life.
The piece depicted a frail father on a hospital bed.
His family stood around him, their backs turned in indifference.
But one figure remained loyal – a malnourished dog.
Its eyes gazed up at the father with devotion.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
This piece was my truth.
Dad's favorite children had abandoned him.
I was the only one who cared.
The malnourished dog represented me.
Neglected, yet steadfast.
I titled the piece "Loyalty Amidst Abandonment."
I left the studio, anxious for Meetsi's feedback.
Would he understand the emotions behind my masterpiece?
After work, I headed to Katlego's house, eager to express my gratitude.
"Baba," I said, greeting Katlego's father warmly.
"Thank you for yesterday. Your support means everything."
Baba Tshepo smiled.
"Precious, you're family. We're always here for you."
Katlego walked me home, the evening sun casting a warm glow.
As we strolled, Katlego shared stories of his upcoming internship.
"An architectural firm! I'm so excited," he exclaimed.
"I took inspiration from your apprenticeship program," he admitted.
"You're doing great, Precious. I want to follow in your footsteps."
I beamed with pride.
We chatted about our dreams, fears, and aspirations.
After a refreshing shower and change of clothes, I visited Dad.
I brought fruits and veggies, knowing he needed the nourishment.
Dad's weak smile broke my heart.
"Precious," he whispered.
I held his hand.
"I'm here, Dad. I won't leave."
The hospital room seemed less daunting with Dad's frail grip.
As I fed him slices of apple, our eyes met.
In that moment, love and forgiveness conquered all.
"Precious, I'm sorry," He whispered.
"For not being there, for not understanding."
Tears trickled down his cheeks.
"It's okay Dad," I whispered back.
"It's all in the past now"
We sat in silence, hands entwined.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
.
.
.
Tuesday morning arrived.
I woke up feeling optimistic. The family meeting was scheduled for later today, and I hoped everyone would show up.
As I checked my phone, a notification from the bank made my heart skip a beat.
"Account credited with 700 BWP."
I couldn't stop smiling.
This money would help with Dad's medical expenses.
I rushed to the studio.
Meetsi's eyes met mine.
"Precious, this piece... it's breathtaking," he said.
"Your emotions leap off the canvas."
He paused.
"Tell me, what inspired this?"
I took a deep breath.
"My dad," I began.
"The hospital, his family... and the dog."
Meetsi's expression softened.
"I see," he whispered.
"This is more than art, Precious."
"It's your heart."
.
.
I quickly got ready and headed to the hospital to visit Dad before the meeting.
"Dad, I have good news," I said, bursting into his room.
"What is it, Precious?" he asked weakly.
"I received my payment – 700 BWP!"
Dad's eyes lit up.
"Thank God," he whispered.
I held his hand.
"We'll get through this, Dad."
As I left the hospital, I felt a sense of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, our family would come together to support Dad.
I arrived home to find Mom busy in the kitchen.
"Mom, everyone's coming, right?" I asked.
She nodded.
"I invited everyone, Precious."
I took a deep breath.
Please, let this meeting bring us closer together.
The doorbell rang.
"Aunt Nala's here," Mom announced.
My heart skipped a beat.
The family meeting was about to begin.
.
.
Not everyone is here but it's enough. There's Tiro, bafana, princess, prestige, aunt Nala, uncle Mpho and Mom.
Mom's voice trembled as she revealed the staggering cost of Dad's medical bills.
"550,000 BWP, including the lung transplant," she said.
The room fell silent.
Bafana, Dad's son from his previous marriage, spoke up.
"Dad's old already. We won't even need a quarter of that for his funeral."
His words stung.
Aunt Nala followed, unleashing a barrage of her own family problems.
"I've got no money, sis. My husband's unemployed, and my kids need school fees."
I understood her struggles, but today was about Dad.
Then Princess, Dad's favorite, spoke.
"Let's be real, mom. Dad's not going to make it. Why waste so much money?"
Her words cut deep.
I felt betrayed.
"Princess, how can you say that?" I asked, fighting back tears.
She shrugged.
"It's the truth. We can't afford it."
I glanced around the room, hoping someone would show empathy.
But it seemed I was alone.
"Fine," I said, standing up.
"I'll find a way to save Dad, even if it means doing it alone."
Mom's eyes met mine, filled with a mix of sadness and regret.
"Precious, how will you get that so much money." Prestige sneered.
"I have some money from my paintings. It's more than enough. I'll clear the bills so that the doctor can proceed treatment immediately."
But the damage was done.
Family ties seemed to mean little in the face of financial hardship.
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