Chronicles of a Nigerian Physiotherapist: by Bola Abioye

If you enjoyed the first post, then you need to read this...why not relax, get a drink and read this beautiful piece of fiction.
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EPISODE TWO
Okay! Now I’m back in Lagos; for the weekend and hopefully to work my re-deployment somehow. Well, I have a solid reason and hopefully it will be good enough to fetch what I want. I need redeployment to Lagos on the basis of emotional stress.

Does that look like a joke to you? Yes! I mean it—emotional stress. The emotional stress was due to the fact that my social health had suffered severely and I was on the verge of social dysfunction. I mean, I could not function as I should in the society around me.

The hospital setting was always busy due to the number of patients we see, the lack of manpower and as expected, all other health practitioners always looked too stressed or too serious to have any fun conversation. I was literally dying inside in addition to the shocker dramas that came my way on a daily basis.

I wonder why Nigerians really take this aspect of health for granted. On a serious note, the definition of health by W.H.O goes beyond the absence of diseases. I’m sure I have doubters already so I’ll just drop it for you to see.

According to W.H.O, ‘Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity’.

Any employee that works from 9-5pm or any health care practitioner that works on shifts would agree with me that emotional well-being is strongly connected to work-related stress.

Need I prove more to you that I was emotionally stressed and would constantly need happy people with less drama around me to be effective at what I do without ending up as a depression patient?

Dad (who likes having straight to the point discussion with me like…‘so what exactly do you want?’)  has talked to a couple of friends and as I happen to be very lucky, during one of his talks with a friend, he mentioned that I needed help with deployment and on that note, I’m at Otunba Ajayi’s residence.

I feel really pissed right now because I’m not getting what I came for. In the last one hour, I’ve been forced into a discussion with the over-bloated Teju Ajayi; who happens to be his daughter and my own childhood friend. She has been in Texas for over ten years and from what I heard, she has been diagnosed with depression. I think I also heard it was a white guy who broke her heart that triggered the situation.

She looked down as I tried to start up a conversation and only smiled intermittently. Well, I tried to remind her of the funny things we did as kids but she only looked down and her face turned pale as though those memories made her sad.

‘Omo mi’ came the voice of Mrs. Ajayi. Welcome son.

I smiled back at her but in my mind I was wondering why Yoruba women always assume that everyone else understands their language.

I made my smile broad enough to depict the exact opposite of what was going on in my mind. Either ways, it’s not like I don’t understand little of it but can the assumptions by these women all over Nigeria just stop already. I’m assuming you’re starting up an awareness campaign for me in your area so thanks in advance.

Signed, association of Warri boys

‘Teju’ she called; turning to her daughter. ‘Come in, you need to take your drugs now’

‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘They are only making me fatter.’ She said almost crying.

‘Otunba, egbami o!’ She said and her voice was loud enough to provoke her husband’s presence.

He came close and spoke into his daughter’s ears. Then he turned to me and we exchanged pleasantries.

My discussion with Otunba and his wife started with the fact that they really needed help with their daughter’s case. They asked if there was anything they could do at all.

They said her appetite had increased in addition to that, the antidepressants seemed to be bloating her up and she didn’t like using them.

I told them that I could put her on a weight loss exercise programme so she could keep fit while using her antidepressants.

So; she gets ‘addicted’ to her antidepressant and at the same time she gets ‘addicted’ to a well-structured weight loss exercise programme.

In the end, it would be a win-win situation. They were relieved, they felt happy. I just provided a solution and hopefully I’ll get a solution to my NYSC redeployment too.

We hit the gym that evening and did I forget to tell you that I hadn’t seen Itohan since I got back? Well, guess who just walked into the gym…

'Omo, I don enter am!'