Friday, May 12, 2017

The Congruence VII

Sister Grace responded that my mum was critically ill. They had thought it was Malaria and were treating it in-house…but she didn't get better.

My mum passed out the day before that and they had to rush her to the hospital.
The hospital almost didn’t take her as they insisted on a twenty thousand Naira deposit for them to admit her and give her a bed.

Sister Grace and my elder brothers rallied round and raised the money. The hospital later diagnosed Typhoid but it had become chronic and they would need to treat my mum with prolonged antibiotics and also a Laparoscopic gallbladder surgery; so they needed to bring more money for treatment to commence.
It was from the hospital that she called me earlier that morning because she didn’t know who else to call….but unfortunately, her phone was not charged and it died after I picked up.

The doctor had come back after about an hour and when he saw that nobody was making any effort to get the money the hospital asked for, he asked Sister Grace and my brothers if they wanted their mother to die…the mention of death was what prompted my Sister to leave the hospital to go look for help. One of my brothers also left in search of money while the other one stayed with my mum.
At this point I had also started crying, I could tell my sister was just chasing the wind and hoping that somehow help would come forth. I asked if her boyfriend could be of help but she said he was out of town to go source for funds from his people as his business was not doing too good

How much does the hospital want?” asked Deola, who had been quiet, but with a somber demeanor, all along.
There was no answer for a while and she asked the question again.

Sister Grace, after noticeable hesitation, answered and said it was one hundred and fifty thousand naira. My heart almost exploded when I heard the amount needed.

Deola stepped away for a few minutes to make a call…she told Sister Grace she wanted to talk to her uncle. After the call, she drove us to the hospital, talked to the doctor for a while and wrote a cheque/check for the full amount. The doctor was skeptical about taking a cheque/check so Deola made another call and had the doctor talk to whoever was on the other side. The way the doctor kept saying “yes sir, ok sir” was enough to suggest he was talking to an influential person.
That was how my mum’s treatment commenced in earnest. The moment the surgeon they were waiting for showed up, they took care of the Cholecystectomy first which took about 3 hours and from there, my mum was moved to the ICU.

I didn’t know how to thank Deola, I wasn’t sure if she loaned us the money or gave us. Sister Grace could not hide her tears…a mix of joy, fear, confusion and gratitude.
We stayed there all day and by evening, my mum came round…she was so happy to see me.

She thanked Deola copiously and showered prayers on her; one of my brothers that was around kept looking at Deola like she was from another world. I could tell what was going on in his mind.

This small girl?
One hundred and fifty thousand Naira?

Just like that?
Money that 3 hardworking adults could not raise...God dey o

I decided to stay and return to school on Monday…Deola said it was a good idea but she had to leave for school.
Before she left, she took me in her car and we went to a supermarket close by to get things for my mum. She bought milk, beverages, blood tonic, fruits and all those things you would take to someone recuperating at the hospital. She also gave me a thousand Naira (in case I needed anything) and advised me to come back to school early so we could figure out how to resolve the issue that originally brought us to see my family.

I didn’t know how to thank her so I hugged her tight…without using words, I tried to express my gratitude to her for being such a good friend and for showing kindness to my family.
What are friends for?

I know all you’ve told me about your mum and everything she’s been through.

I saw the deep pain on Sister Grace’s face and what mama’s death would mean to every one of you.

I had to step in, so I called my “Uncle”. He was on board and gave me the go ahead

It was the least I could do.

Money is useless if we can’t use it to help save lives” was Deola’s response
 
She dropped me at the hospital but this time she didn’t come inside, she said she didn’t want my mum to start thanking her again.

By the time I left for School on Monday, my mum was able to sit up and she had started taking fluids. She was still weak but we all could see that she was getting better. I was so happy…I felt eternally indebted to Deola. Even my mum promised to come to our school once she got discharged from the hospital. I told her not to bother as we would come over to see her.
Deola was not around when I got to school. I checked our room and even our department, there was a lecture going on for her set but she wasn’t in the class (Deola was not hard to pick out among a crowd. She had a way of standing out). Her car was parked in front of our BQ but she was nowhere to be found. I tried calling her from a call center but she wasn’t picking up.

She showed up later in the day, I was sitting on the bed when she walked in. She said she had to go see her “uncle” before the hospital presented the cheque/check; to be sure that there would be no hitch. Then she told me to come meet “someone”…
Who?” I asked, curiosity eating me up from within

Just come with me” she replied as she pulled me up and dragged me out of the room.
There was a beautiful Mercedes car parked across the street where our BQ was and there was a police officer standing by the car…that was the direction Deola was dragging me. I started to slow down my pace but Deola urged me on. The tinted glass of the back window went down slowly as it “exposed” the occupant of the car…it was Deola’s “uncle”.

It was Chief Agbabiaka…a well-known, super-rich business man. I had seen his face on TV many times and in magazines that showed off rich people’s parties and homes.
Oh my God!” I screamed while trying to cover my mouth with my right palm. I quickly went down on my knees to greet him

Good evening sir” I said with a shaky voice…I was totally confounded.
How are you my dear?” he said, with the deepest voice I had ever heard in my life, as he extended his hand for a handshake.

He asked how my mum was fairing and all that…he seemed to know a lot about me. Deola used that opportunity to inform me that he had picked up my mum’s bill. I almost cursed him while trying to pray for him to show my gratitude.
He didn’t stay for long and as he was about to leave, he handed me some money. I knelt again to thank him and he said
Your friend will be attending a party with me and some of my friends next weekend, if you don’t mind, you can come along

Ok sir” was all I could mumble as his car drove off...
PART 6                                                                                            PART 8


Picture Credit (c) nigerianmonitor.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental   

© 2017 Lanre Olagbaju All Rights Reserved

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Initiation begins. Hmmm.....