DOKITA

EPISODE 11

As she left the Emergency Room that afternoon, Bunmi knew that she had to sort out her emotions. She also knew that she had to come to a logical, yet emotionally agreeable conclusion on whom she was going to end up with. There was absolutely no way around this.

Thankfully though, today was a Friday.  Much more calming was the fact that she wasn’t on call all weekend. She had planned to leave for a private resort, treat herself to a 2-day break. These two days were obviously critical in deciding her future, the shape her life would take for a really long time.

But first, she had to get out of this environment which was currently chaotic for her- away from Fola, Kenny, his mother and most of all, from the hospital whose walls reminded her on a daily basis of her choices over the past 6 years.

‘Dr. Phillips, before you leave today, ensure you write the discharge summaries for those 3 patients to be discharged from our unit.’, one of the senior resident doctors in her unit said.

‘Ok ma.’

This particular resident was quite nice, and consequently Bunmi didn’t feel too bad about the seeming hitch in her plan.

30 minutes and 3 discharge summaries later, Bunmi was in a public bus. The noises coming from different directions blended around her that afternoon- the guy in a white cap standing a few steps away from her, holding onto the metal overlay in the bus and standing because he obviously couldn’t afford the complete transport fare- put his mouth around his off-white, slightly yellow flute and looked to the heavens as he created melody of some sorts. The horns of nearby ‘molue’ buses and the honking of drivers who seemed to be burnt out didn’t create harmony with the ‘fluty’ melody, thus making the beauty of the sound almost fleeting.

But as Bunmi sat in a corner of the bus, with passengers jostling in and out of the bus admist calls and responses of ‘Ilasa…Ijesha!’ and ‘O wa o!’, she shut her mind to the other noises and singled out the melody the off-white flute was producing. In 2 days, she had to have a final decision; would she marry the man she loved, or the man whose child she was carrying? What would be the consequences of either decision? If she chose Fola, was his love unconditional enough to accept this fetus in her uterus as partly his?

She smiled fatuously. It seemed illogical, even to her. The young child whom she’d gauged to be less than or equal to 2 years, seated on her mother’s lap to Bunmi’s right was smiling at her. Bunmi smiled back, only for the child to cover her face. Uhn! Sweet little thing.

She brought her left hand to rest on her abdomen, which had started filling out. She had not yet felt her baby kick. Quickening, they called it. Luckily, she didn’t have frequent bouts of morning sickness and for this, she was profusely grateful.

When ‘Maami’, her mother, had called yesterday to ask about the wedding preparations, she had tried to give her the impression that there was no problem. Thankfully, Maami wasn’t even aware of Fola, her strict upbringing wouldn’t have let her tell Maami the full story. In 2 weeks, Kenny’s family was to meet with hers. Yet, she still felt very numb. What she felt was actually an intense variety of numbness. Every moment seemed to count.

Sighing, she picked up her phone and ran her eyes through her chats. Kenny asking her annoying questions about what to do as a ‘couple’ over the weekend. This guy was becoming a nightmare. Everything she disliked and much more, she thought.

She scrolled down and her eyes caught Fola’s display picture. Her heart melted and she could almost taste the butter-like sensation on her tongue as she smiled once again. THIS was the man she loved. There was absolutely no doubt in her heart about this: she would marry him in a heartbeat. Or half of a heartbeat, actually.

But her decision, and her heart; would they correlate?

 As that doctor looked out the window, Linda could tell that he was smart. The speed with which he walked, the dimness of his eyes, the curvature of his beard and the fullness of his cranial vault’s hair gave the information away to her.

She held firmly onto this belief, as if it determined if her nostrils could take in the next breath of oxygen. Papa had to survive this battle. He had to live to fight another day.

Moving away from the door where she had been eavesdropping on the Ward Round taking place in Papa’s room, she sat down close to her brother, strategically positioning herself close enough to the door to be able to intercept the doctor when the ward round was over. This doctor whom she sort of trusted.

It was the 6^th week of her Pathology posting and she had missed 3 days of intensive lectures. As much as she loved Papa, she knew she had to return to school since or risk severe failure.

Chuks was dozing off beside her. He would have to be strong for Mama, who had been previously treated for depressive episodes. Linda feared that this could tilt her into another one.

She tapped her 18 year old brother.

‘Chukwuma!’

He opened his eyes, and had to stabilize himself from falling off his chair, an aftermath of transiently impaired proprioception.

‘Sister’, he looked around, wide-eyed

‘Are they done inside?’

‘No, the ward round isn’t over’

‘I want to talk to you about Mama’

‘Mama?’

‘Yes. Chuks, you know you school here and I don’t. So regardless of how this turns out, please take very good care of Mama. I don’t want her to go back into the hospital…’

‘Ok…’ he nodded in understanding.

Their conversation was cut short by the exit of the health team; following which Linda stood abruptly and interecepted the doctor.

‘Excuse me sir!’

He turned back with a smile. Yes, this was why she liked and trusted him. The strong sense of warmth that he exuded was almost blinding.

That alone, and she felt like Papa was in good hands.

‘How can I help you dear?’ he asked

‘Sir…it’s about my Father’

‘Ok, please give me a few minutes and I’d be able to talk with you properly. Would that be possible?’

‘Yes…yes sir.’

So once again, she took her strategic seat and waited for the likable doctor.