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 ...

‘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 wel...

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 s...

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 ...

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 descri...

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...