Christmas means family to me. So when I lost my big sister, Queen, in September, I just knew it was cancelled for this year. You can’t experience festivity three months after losing your sibling, it’s ridiculous. Covering up the pain and thoughts by watching other happy people while I play Christmas carols on my saxophone seemed like the perfect plan.

Now with the whole Covid-19 scare and all the regulations that came with it, my entertainment gigs were mostly cancelled. However, Christmas weekend arrived soon after I had signed a sweet deal with Serena Hotel and I was over the moon. Let alone working with this envied brand, this was the perfect solution for my pain during the season. Imagine spending Christmas weekend in Rubavu, playing saxophone by the lake shores! How dreamy!

But nah. 2020 couldn’t let me have that, either. I pictured it saying ‘just kidding’, with a little smirk on the face.

As you might know, to access hotels (as guests), one needs to test for Covid-19 and I was no exception, but as usual, I was simply testing for a routine procedure. Only this time, the test was positive, even though I almost laughed at the doctor when he gave me the news. So to quench my disbelief, I decided to take a second test, which turned out to be positive too, marking the beginning of an interesting Christmas. 

I know I was initially far from festive but sleeping on a wooden bench for hours, and later on, a sickbed in a little clinic in Rubavu was not what I had in mind for Christmas. And the rain, it has a way of amplifying misery, and boy did it rain that day! I remember feeling desperately cold and hungry, while blankly staring outside the window watching heavy drizzles, like a scene in a sad movie. All of a sudden, I developed strong envy for the people that walked around in the rain while going about their business, without a care in the world! Oh, how I missed that freedom! 

Isolation is hard enough when your heart is pain-free but five-hour isolation, far away from home, on an empty stomach with a pre-existing heavy heart, is no way to spend Christmas. Receiving ‘Merry Christmas’ messages from my contacts (phone contacts, not COVID) felt like mockery, and let’s just say all I wanted at this moment was my warm bed with warm soup, watching Netflix, and being a Grinch in peace. I would achieve this many hours later after what seemed like a series of practical jokes played on me by this outgoing year.

The public address system opposite the clinic didn’t disappoint either as it continuously broadcasted Covid-19 prevention measures. The irony got me chuckling amidst my misery and hunger. 

Testing positive isn’t the worst news to receive, thanks to the thorough edification we have received on the virus - but the confusion that comes with it! Remember the lepers from the Bible? I can totally relate now. When the ambulance finally got us out of the clinic and took us to the main hospital, I didn’t know that what awaited us was endless stares (and murmurs) from Covid-free people as we stepped off the car. The march to the isolation centre felt like a ‘walk of shame’, and crowning all this was a paddock-like area (rope-fenced) where all we people with the virus were convened. Stepping out of this fence was illegal.

Later on, my colleague (that tested positive too) asked one of the medical attendants if we could please get some food since we were starving and his answer was a sneer, followed by a sarcastic comment. This broke my heart a little because all the boy asked for was food, not a trip to Nyungwe. By the way, thanks to this guy, (my colleague), the journey felt like a group project, not a one-person struggle because in a place where empathy was a luxury, my misery was desperate for company. 

I won’t even talk about the struggle that encompassed getting our bags from the hotel before we embarked on our final journey back to Kigali. Or my poor saxophone that wasn’t touched that weekend, after being set up and all tuned out for the dinner. All I can say is that this day was necessary to successfully brand 2020 as an exhausting year.

Anyway, did I learn anything from all this? Yes, of course. Every cloud has a silver lining. For instance, did you know that ambulances don’t have seatbelts? So amusing. What about hunger on Christmas day, you probably don’t know how different it hits. 

Also a silver lining, I had Covid-19 in 2020. I can assure you, my children will not hear the end of that story, the year when I tested positive and survived! Heck, I might even add it to my bio. ‘Stella Tush ~ Saxophone player and COVID Survivor’. 

 PS: My gratitude goes to friends that offered their support; giving me access to their kindle accounts, dropping off bags of fruit, wine bottles, flowers, and even ballistic burgers to my apartment! 

‘No one should have to go through Covid isolation solo,’ one said. 

The love was felt. And to the reader, should you get the virus, I hope you are lucky enough to receive compassion while at it.

The author is Rwanda’s first female saxophonist