She sat across from me, shaking. It was hard to decide whether it was because she was cold from the air-conditioner in the room, or fearful. I was unsure of my words and the silence between us was uncomfortable; her eyes remained plastered to the floor.
Fifty-four years old, she had been diagnosed with cervical cancer three months ago. She had agreed to speak to me at the cancer treatment centre but asked that her name not be published. I asked her why. “Me shame, me don’t want nobody know and me husband and suh wouldn’t want that,” she answered.
She had been helping with preparations for a wedding and it was shortly after, “… I see I bleeding plenty, but I say you know is the fatigue and not eating on time been making it happen,” she said softly.
“And me husband been
