The Military Nurse

I had just completed my bachelor’s degree in nursing and midwifery at Makerere University in Uganda. I wasn't a medical doctor, but a well-trained nurse ready to serve. My father was a military Captain in Tanzania. As soon as I returned home, he arranged for me to gain practical experience at the military hospital located deep inside the Oljoro Camp in Arusha, while he worked on securing a permanent employment post for me.

I was a beautiful young woman, and I knew it. I wasn't light-skinned, but blessed with a flawless, smooth dark complexion, completely free of blemishes since birth. Despite my father's decent income, my only skincare routine was simple Vaseline petroleum jelly. I had a graceful figure with modest curves and beautiful legs that everyone admired. However, as a devout Muslim, I preferred modesty; my daily attire consisted of elegant abayas, and at work, I wore loose trousers and a long tunic that extended past my knees. I remained steadfast in my principle of never being touched by any man until he became my lawful husband.

My presence at the camp hospital quickly drew the attention of almost every man there. One afternoon, while going about my duties, I overheard one of the soldiers teasing his friends, "This one is my girl now. Ask her yourself, and if she denies it, I'll do all your chores for a whole week!" Viewing it as harmless military banter, when they approached to ask me, I smiled and played along, saying, "Yes, he is my man, and I love him very much."

"What on earth do you see in this fool?" one of his friends asked in disbelief. I replied smoothly, "He is a perfect gentleman, and no complete woman could ever reject a man like him." The soldier I had defended beamed with pride and exclaimed, "Wow, beautiful, you have such sweet words!" In truth, I didn't even know his name, and I was certain he didn't know mine either, but from that moment on, his comrades were convinced we were in a relationship.