The Covid-19 Patient

By Jamila Eoukich

Two star-crossed strangers and one raging pandemic... is this a recipe for love or disaster?

While the global Covid-19 pandemic ranges on, Othman, a young man from Morocco, is finding ways to process his grief after the virus has taken the lives of his father and now his mother.

But just before her untimely passing, Othman’s mother tasked him with finding her long-long stepbrother and giving him a gift from her. Othman is determined to fulfil his mother’s dying wish but does not hold out much hope of finding this mystery stepbrother.

Far away from her native Morocco, Aya is desperate to get out of lockdown in Madrid and return to her home country to be with her ill grandfather.

Through a series of unbelievable coincidences, Othman and Aya get to know each other virtually and start to fall in love. But their relationship takes an odd turn when they realize that Othman’s mother’s stepbrother and Aya’s grandfather may in fact be the same man.

Othman is able to help Aya get to Morocco to be by her grandfather’s side, and he decides to make a surprise visit so the two of them can finally meet in person. However, after Aya’s grandfather’s condition worsens, Aya starts to push Othman away and the two young lovers seem destined to fail.

Will Othman and Aya be able to overcome their trauma and losses, and save their fledgling relationship? Or will the global pandemic claim their love before it has even begun?

“The Covid-19 Patient” is a gripping contemporary romance that will leave you on the edge of your seat, desperate to flip the pages to see what happens next in their love story. Follow Othman as he fulfils his mother’s dying request and find out if Aya will make it in time to see her grandfather one last time.

Will this be a happily ever after or will Covid-19 destroy even more lives? Open the book and find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamila Eoukich
• Release date: Nov 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9789920922135

Jamila Eoukich

Jamila Eoukich is a Moroccan writer. Her work is available in English and French, and she lives in Casablanca with her husband, their two children, and a cat named Milo.Despite her background in science and her graduation in Process Engineering, Jamila has always loved reading and writing. In 2001, she was one of the laureates of the Short Film Screenwriting Residency Competition organized in Morocco by the Department of Cooperation and Cultural Action. She has also participated in scriptwriting workshops organized by the French Institute of Marrakech and in Tunisia for a cartoon series as part of an Euromédiatoon project.Jamila is constantly thinking of new ideas for next storylines, so stay in touch to be notified on her latest releases.Her previous novels, published in French, are as follows:- La Tombe du Houjal, adventure novel, published in May 2017.- Mon ami, le destin, romance novel, published in August 2017.Her latest releases, published in English, are as follows:- Estrella’s adventures – Lost in the forest, Children book, published in July 2021.- The drawing, short story, published in August 2021.- The COVID19’s patient, Contemporary romance, published in June 2022.

Book preview

PART ONE

AYA

MADRID

Hi, I am Aya, a young Moroccan woman from Casablanca. I am aged 29 years old. Since a few weeks ago, I have been stuck here in Madrid because of the pandemic restrictions. I was traveling back to Morocco but couldn’t get the flight when the authorities closed the borders at the last moment. Since that time, I have contacted the consulate twice by email and phone to request assistance for repatriation but without success. So today, I am here at the consulate. I came to check in person and see if I could get any positive answer.

I arrived a few minutes ago, and I am still waiting. So many people are waiting too. I assume we are all in the same situation, trying to find a way to go back home. The consulate gate is already open, but they just started to let people get in.

I checked my purse before leaving the motel to ensure I didn’t forget my evidence documents. Logically, I have all the necessary conditions to get the claim approved. All I need in plus is some luck.

While looking at the other waiting visitors, I notice they are of different ages and genders, and not all of them are alone as I am. A couple on the left holds my attention, and I envy them for being together, having each other support. It must feel nice to be cared for, to know that you can lay on someone's shoulder. Unfortunately, I am not so lucky. Despite my little sister and some of my friends are already married and having children, I am still single with no husband or boyfriend in my life. I sigh and shift my gaze to the other side.

An older man standing near a Eucalyptus tree reminds me of my grandfather. I feel sad for being so far and unable to check on him. However, I hope he will do fine until my return and not worry too much about me. He has been chasing me for a long time to find a husband and settle down as my sister, but I never give it a priority. It’s not that I am against marriage at all; it’s just that I have no idea where and how I could find the right man suited for me. I’m not too fond of arranged things, matchmaking, and dating apps, and I prefer to let my future be in the hands of destiny. It’s more romantic. If my fate is to be with someone special, our paths will probably cross somewhere later.

I move a few steps further and turn to the other side. Then, I notice a few other women of the same age as me and wonder who is in the most desperate situation and deserves to be the first to get registered on those special flights the consulate arranges from time to time.

I must admit that I was lucky to rent that little accommodation in the neighborhood, even though it hasn’t been easy to convince its owner to compensate a part of the rental fees from the extra accounting work payment I offered to do for him. But, It was a brilliant idea, indeed. So, at least now, with the bit of money left, I will cover the remaining expenses for a while. I am glad I brought my computer with me too. It helped me a lot.

I advance in the queue and enter the office as it is my turn. Unfortunately, the other visitor before me left upset, so I guess they rejected his request. I hope it won’t be the same for me. ‘Be brave and ask for your right.’ I say to myself, then I breathe and face the office responsible:

Hello, sir. I have been stuck here for two months already, and I need to get back home as soon as possible. Would you mind helping me to get registered for one of the next flights, please? I say in a hurry, fearing being interrupted and not being able to finish my request. Then I breathe and wait for his answer.

He looks at the other visitors waiting behind and at me with a helpless gaze. It must be difficult for him to keep rejecting so many people's requests all day. The few flights the consulate arranges are insufficient and cannot respond to all citizens' needs. He looks at me finally, and I hand him my administrative papers and credentials.

Have you already been registered on the waiting list or not yet? He asks while checking my name in the system.

Yes, I came as soon as I heard of those first flights you made a few weeks ago, and since that time, I am still waiting and didn’t receive any feedback from you.

We have too many people waiting and cannot afford to satisfy all the requests. But, as you may have seen, some are in very critical situations and need immediate departure. Those have priority. He keeps silent for a moment typing on the keyboard the contact details. Then a new information page pops up on his computer screen. He scans it and replies:

I am afraid, but for the moment, your name is not yet on the upcoming flights. So you will still have to wait for a while.

How will I know then that I am on the approved list? I ask.

We will contact you by phone and ask you to move to the airport. Once your name gets on the list, we will inform you in due course and send you all the details.

Thanks, sir, I mumble and stand up.

I leave sad and desperate. How will I do, alone and penniless in a foreign country, before the consulate persons in charge decide to add me to their priority list? The most difficult in such a situation is the lack of visibility. At least if I knew when it could happen, I would be able to organize myself correspondingly.

I get out of the consulate, stand back to the gate wall, and wonder for a while how many further weeks I will still have to wait before flying back home. I remember the famous movie ‘The terminal’ and feel like I am in a similar situation with the slight difference that the hero was stuck inside the airport and not outside.

By the end of this pandemic threat, our lives would have, for sure, drastically changed. But who can tell how much and to which extent this change would be? No one for sure has a clue about it now. Just wait and see; that’s all we can do. I adjust my purse belt on my shoulder like a soldier wearing his gun, then advance towards the exit, ready as I could be for the next battle.

THE PATIENT

Mr. Khalil

MARRAKECH,

It’s a winter day with pale bright light filtering through the windows. As I enter the building of the diabetologist's office, I take the time to look at the mirror near the front door to adjust my clothes. The wind outside was quite strong, and I had to catch my hat many times to avoid it from flying away.

The medical office is in a lovely building in the town center. Even if I have lived before in many other cities, I feel exceptionally serene here in Marrakech. It should be its particular weather and light or the mountains’ shadows that give the healing effect. The traffic sometimes, though, is terrible with all those motorbikes and bikes circulating in all directions. But it has its charm.

I look like a frail medium-sized older man in the mirror with blue eyes, grey hair, a trim beard, and a wool djellaba. But, I must admit that I looked much better and younger a year ago.

I sigh, then knock on the door and enter. The doctor is at his desk, writing on his notepad. I have been consulting with him for many years, and he is still the same as before. He is a cheerful person. As I remember, he has always been sitting on that chair, observing his patients with a malicious smile like a teacher trying to guess the secrets his students were hiding.

Good morning, Doctor, I say.

Good morning, Mr. Khalil. It has been a long time! As I see, you missed though our last appointment. He says jokingly.

I wonder how he can be so calm with all these sick people visiting him all day. He doesn’t seem affected by the pandemic at all. If I were he, I would be worrying all day if the people I am facing are contaminated or not and when it will be my turn? It must probably be a habit, or he must be a good actor trying to seem normal during the day and worrying later after work. I envy him thus for his ability to overcome daily stress and the lack of visibility of what will happen in the future.

As he is still looking at me and waiting for an answer, I shake my head to wake up from my useless thoughts and resume. Yes. Sorry for that, Doc.

That’s not a big problem. So, how are you today? He asks.

I am fine, I say and sigh.

You don’t seem so. You look sad.

Certainly, but it has nothing to do with the treatment you gave me.

Each problem has a solution. Don’t worry. Take a seat and tell me what the matter is. Then, maybe, I can be of some help to you, the doctor says.

You cannot. It has nothing to do with medicine.

How can you be sure of that? We have known each other for so many years. We are more friends than just a doctor and his patient.

Yeah, that’s right.

So, what’s bothering you so much? Is your granddaughter Aya still abroad?

Yes, unfortunately. I am so worried. Even though Aya assures me she is fine, and I believe she is capable, I hardly imagine how she is coping with all of this. I feel useless here when she is so far and alone. What if she gets sick or contaminated? Who will take care of her, and how will she do? I sigh, look at the window, and then resume:

I promised her mother I would take care of her, but I am failing this promise now. And it’s not only that. I just lost faith in the future, and I feel desperate for everything happening around us. Of course, at my age, you see the world differently. But, these late days, when I think and analyze the latest events, I feel that humanity is falling into a dark age.

What? That much? asks the doctor, staring at me, Why being so pessimistic?

Did you pay attention to the people outside? There is no more joy, family gatherings, and emotional support. I can’t help but wonder how humanity will face these pandemic threats. I respond.

His smile darkens for a while as he thinks seriously about what I said. Then he moves his right hand in a desperate gesture and says:

Life isn’t always as we want it to be. But, even if we face a hard time, Humanity will always win in the end and find a way to fight these threats. Just keep faith in the scientists working worldwide nonstop to develop an efficient vaccine. So, everything is going to be fine soon. Don’t worry. Then he lay back in his chair, looking for comfort to help him seem confident, at ease, and not worried. I shake my head, uncertain, then resume:

Let’s suppose you’re right, and meanwhile, they find this vaccine. What will come out of this family's disintegration process? What will happen then, soon, if family members stay divided because of that pandemic? I ask, If grandparents are apart in quarantine for a long time? And left to face loneliness and depression far from their children and grandchildren?"

"It is a temporary situation; don’t worry. It will not last forever, and you will meet again soon with your