MEDICO

EPISODE 4. ‘I see the pain, even with both eyelids tightly closed. Closing my eyes even seems to amplify the pain. As I make fettered attempts to walk in my mind, still with closed eyes, I hear clearly the troubled echoes of my struggling heart. I try to fathom, to understand it, but cleverly, it eludes me. And yet it’s raw and with gnawing fangs, rips the covering of my heart with renewed ferocity. Today is here, but the shadows of yesterday haunt me, leaving no room for re-apprehension.’ I closed my journal. Not one cell in my body wanted to go to church today. Church, they say, was created to provide solace to the weak. I had heard the book of Isaiah being quoted on ‘binding up the broken-hearted and restoring the breach of many generations.’ I didn’t believe a single word, nonetheless. Miss Tara, a faithful church attendee left me with no choice and however reluctant I was, I had to go to church. It wasn’t even a debatable topic. What with the numerous gifting my myriad of ch

‘I am here’; ‘No, you’re not’ I hear you say- In your words, in your actions I am now incapable, unworthy of trust It pains me so, to see- even to perceive that you, The one who who’s shown me so much love Would choose to now ostracize me I expect no less from the community But your condescending looks; They break me I might not be entirely well But this I know, I am aware- Mentally aware #Mental health #Mental advocacy #Speak

Could he be serotonin or acetylcholine, you ask? Definitey not; despite the fact that he made them Yet, as I took a stroll that morning Careful about everything except the ‘nothing’ he asked that I be careful about, And pouring out my heart to him- My defeat and all, He spoke to me That eerie sense of peace, calm and direction Did he do it by infusing inhibitory neurotransmitters? Nah, I’m not doing this ‘Cos I don’t know the mechanism of its action All I know, all I need, Is the peace that I felt He gave me peace and calmed my nerves Medically correct-or not!

EPISODE 3. It was raining. I stood by the door leading out of our apartment as I seriously contemplated the savage-like idea coursing through my veins at the speed of light. I was thinking of going into the rain, and imagining the feel of each pellet-like drop on my skin. Every other time I had been in the rain, it had been by mistake and had been so short-lived that I couldn’t enjoy it fully. The thought of Miss Tara giving a war-like panic filled cry of ‘Sepuya, get into the house!’ made goose bumps appear on my skin and sent a chill down my spine. I had mastered all her intonations and knew what each was for, getting lost in them whenever I was bored. Her screech-like voice passed across a message of anger; going up a tone to pass across one of fear. The mixture of anger and fear almost completely deflated her lungs.  Hours earlier, I had taken in the misty smell of the pre-rain, eagerly awaiting the rain so I could lay out my previously imagined and well-hatched plans. I wou

The young girl owned the road that afternoon, Scorching sun and all- as she crossed the road, flagging down cars Her brother’s left hand clutched tightly in her right palm, And they made a swift run for the other side of the road Weren’t we just there? - towering only a little above the 3 year olds Suddenly assuming we were the tallest of the bunch, Carrying hefty purple, red and green school bags, Moving along a line in formation- Synchronizing our movements with those of our school friends and neighbors Saving up our shillings to buy post-school hours ice cream And devouring it with strength, Strength preserved for this very purpose But we all grew up, didn’t we? We all grew up

A few weeks ago, I happened to be very busy and had to keep a friend waiting for a protracted period of time. In my opinion though, he didn’t have to wait. He could have left then and returned when I notified him that I was free, or he could simply have excused himself on the premise of his busy schedule. I really didn’t feel deserving of his spending as much as 2-3 hours waiting for me (it was literally ‘peppering my body’). So when I was finally through with what I was doing, I said something along these lines: ‘How can I repay you? What would I have to pay for this?’ And he looked at me, a little stunned; after which ‘understanding’ dawned on him. Then he said something that struck a chord in me: ‘You see, this is why it’s hard for people to accept God’s unconditional love.’ That was a lesson that stayed with me for days, even weeks and because we had discussed God’s love on a previous occasion I could see that God was systematically educating me on embracing his perfect love and

EPISODE 2. I woke up to that familiar scent this morning, the druggy smell of my second home; the hospital. I was sick, very sick. I had been on admission for over a week, and even for me that was news. I couldn’t remember the last time this happened; even when I was much younger and would have those frequent hand-and-foot swellings which my doctor called dactylitis. It sounded like Dac-TEA-LIE-tis to me. Especially when it was pronounced slowly and I could make out the words tea and lie; which I cunningly interpreted as lying down on a sofa with a glass of iced tea and some biscuits, while intermittently playing video games. The most disorienting part of being here is my inability to sculpt. Sculpting was my way of making it all disappear, of leaving my world and emerging into another, where there was no pain. I ran straight from the car to my room most days after school, to pour the inspiration I had gotten that day into the 3D images of my sculptures. I begged Miss Tara to le

The saints put off their coats; Listening together, they knelt in their spirits, Yet remaining seated; We have bodies, souls and spirits Our souls suffer as we fail to discuss our emotions, they said; So they began to pour out their hearts- Undiluted, no filter Willing to break and be broken To mend and be mended This is the height of fellowship The bond that connects us in diffuse healing

EPISODE 1 My name is Sepuya Ahmed, and I’m a 16 year old sickler. My mother, Miss Tara, said that when I was born, I was a very beautiful and healthy baby. She had even shown me pictures from the past; especially when she wanted to motivate me to eat better and become robust, in her own words. And though a single mother, Miss Tara did everything in her power to ensure that I had a normal life. She worked as a journalist for the Nation’s foremost newspaper and had been denied promotion thrice on account of her inability to ‘leave the comfort of her home base to the field’.  Her retorting statement always revolved around me. ‘If I leave Sepuya alone, who would take care of him?’ My father was a colleague she met in the university, she’d said. She was very young and still naïve in the 1990s ‘when naivete was still a thing!’ She would state with so much indignation. And then her eyes would shine brightly when she described my Father. He was so loving and tender to her. She had want

For the constant battlers: This is my war cry, The cry of a veteran soldier; Branded with fire- You do not see my scars, The tears and the pain you fail to see That bloodied sword is mine For I have had to use it Not occasionally, but severally Sweating and crying over my battles Battles fought, battles won I borrow a leaf from Paul As I humbly say: Henceforth, let no man or woman trouble me- For I bear in my body, the marks of the Lord Jesus

The other day, I was in an atmosphere so charged with the Spirit that the best way I could describe what I felt was intoxication. I wept, danced, mumbled stuff- not that all of that would have mattered without the accompanying atmosphere but I didn’t care what I did or who else was there, I couldn’t help but ‘display’. At that moment, Eph 5:18 actually dawned on me in its entirety and as one of my favorite versions puts it: ‘Drink the Spirit of God, huge draughts of him.’ And in those moments of intoxication, God’s presence became more obvious and way more palpable; and as a drunk (wo)man, nothing seems too difficult. Thirst brings along with it, the desire to drink. But addiction? It breeds intoxication. I should think this is one of the reasons we are adjourned to be continually filled with the Spirit. I should also think that this is the reason individuals like Paul were able to give all for God. Yes, they were intoxicated; their actions made no sense to the world. Thus, if we

EPISODE 13- Episode Finale Linda The lamp was growing dim, and whilst scratching her sleepy eyes, Linda yawned for the third time in 15 minutes. This was the fourth night in a row that she had kept awake all through the night; thanks to coffee. Within the last 2 weeks since she had returned to school, she had gone through most of her notes, studying them with an insane sort of passion- passion which could only come from the thoughts of writing serious professional exams in 2 weeks time. Past questions and their solutions were her ever present companions, as well as all sorts of handbooks and jotters. And so, 3 days ago, she had found herself in an exam hall, writing her end of posting exams. They had seemed to go on well and she sincerely hoped that her results would be ‘well pleasing’ in her sight. The God-sent Doctor, Dr. Charles had been really helpful. She had kept in touch with him these past 2 weeks and he had continually re-assured her about Papa’s health. Now that Papa was

EPISODE 13- Episode Finale Linda The lamp was growing dim, and whilst scratching her sleepy eyes, Linda yawned for the third time in 15 minutes. This was the fourth night in a row that she had kept awake all through the night; thanks to coffee. Within the last 2 weeks since she had returned to school, she had gone through most of her notes, studying them with an insane sort of passion- passion which could only come from the thoughts of writing serious professional exams in 2 weeks time. Past questions and their solutions were her ever present companions, as well as all sorts of handbooks and jotters. And so, 3 days ago, she had found herself in an exam hall, writing her end of posting exams. They had seemed to go on well and she sincerely hoped that her results would be ‘well pleasing’ in her sight. The God-sent Doctor, Dr. Charles had been really helpful. She had kept in touch with him these past 2 weeks and he had continually re-assured her about Papa’s health. Now that Papa was

EPISODE 13- Episode Finale Linda The lamp was growing dim, and whilst scratching her sleepy eyes, Linda yawned for the third time in 15 minutes. This was the fourth night in a row that she had kept awake all through the night; thanks to coffee. Within the last 2 weeks since she had returned to school, she had gone through most of her notes, studying them with an insane sort of passion- passion which could only come from the thoughts of writing serious professional exams in 2 weeks time. Past questions and their solutions were her ever present companions, as well as all sorts of handbooks and jotters. And so, 3 days ago, she had found herself in an exam hall, writing her end of posting exams. They had seemed to go on well and she sincerely hoped that her results would be ‘well pleasing’ in her sight. The God-sent Doctor, Dr. Charles had been really helpful. She had kept in touch with him these past 2 weeks and he had continually re-assured her about Papa’s health. Now that Papa was

Isaiah stood and then, he stooped; A seasoned prophet for the umpteenth time, absorbing a message from his Master: ‘Isaiah can you hear me? I will come to heal the broken-hearted, Yes, all of them I will come (and Isaiah sensed him smile) To set at liberty the bruised in spirit So tell them, Tell the bruised reeds to come, with their broken hearts, worn bodies and all; I will heal all!’ Isaiah stood from his stooped position once again, Flipped his brown parchment over howbeit, skeptically; He had to continue now: For excitedly, the Lord was saying: ‘Emotional narcoleptics can be healed of their visceral pain They can all have restored circadian rhythms, if they so choose’ Isaiah looked up, this time with a glint of understanding in his eyes The people  around were staring at him as if they could perceive an aura of  imminent madness, He seemed to be talking to himself, but no, he was having a discussion with Yahweh ‘But when are you coming? W

EPISODE 12 The sun filtered through the window panes, the trees justled to and fro in sweet harmony even as male and female folks clustered in pairs around the pool. Some families had come to the resort with their kids and you could hear the innocent laughter emanationg from these young folks, miles away. This was no ‘pool morning’ for Bunmi, as she lay in bed, enjoying whatever little serenity she had left. She rolled over, again and again. Her phones had been switched off since yesterday and she hoped all the patients in her unit were stable. With guilty hands, she finally switched on the phones. An immediate buzz the moment she switched it on. A message from her mother about wedding plans. ‘Abeg’ she said to herself. No message from anyone in the hospital. ‘Good.’ Finally, her feet were on the cold floor. She opened her bag to look for her pair of glasses, only for a ruffled paper to fall out from her glasses case. ‘Which one is this again?’ she soliloquized She smo

Once again we hide; We hide the deep-seated anguish That pain within us that isn’t motor-no That isn’t sensory-no, That isn’t skeletal either; But sadly, is visceral This culprit has made us recline into a position of emotional narcolepsy And we resort to pain-lessness In the presence of the continuum of severe pain The spirochete in charge- Treponema pallidum Grins and groans Yet all we do is charge, But only within And not ever with the chance of expression

‘Oh let me see your face! I don’t want to go anywhere without your presence, Lord!’ I do the characteristic- that is, I pause Reflectively, I begin to analyze Dissecting every word and ruminating on every syllable Could she (i.e the singer) have had visual hallucinations? I listen again: ‘Take us into your holy place!’ Where is that holy place and for God’s sake, has she been there?  Isuspiciously conclude that her visions must indeed be hallucinations I come to me, and faintly remember that less syllabic dissection makes for a deeper immersion in the music and a calmer state of mind, a A more beautifully attained state For the more I dissect, The greater the amount of beauty in godliness I resect I fear that if I go deeper, I just might begin to resect away layers of the most important ‘variable’- My love for God I am a Christian! And in that interface between scholastic sagery and Christianity where every manifestation is suspicious to the critical

The mood in each room was different, he discovered as he stumbled from one into the next. He became familiar with each the moment he stepped into it. The immediate former was full of pent up emotions relating to divorce-in-conception; The less immediate former was laced in neck-deep debt, seeking repatriation Now onto the latter; which was a breath of fresh air- no emotional clutter; seemingly oblivious to the emotional tachycardia that characterized its counterparts This latter room had 3 chairs, 7 bags and 10 gowns, meant for whom? He did not know A rude awakening typified by what sounded to him like the screeching of his full name, ending with ‘Charlie! Charlie!’; administered via the right upper limb of his ever-efficient brother He sighed with disappointed longing; Alas! He had been dreaming.