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CHRONICLES OF A NIGERIAN PHYSIOTHERAPIST: by Bola Abioye

                             

                             
                      EPISODE FOUR

‘Ose! Where is daddy?’ Ituah asked, throwing both arms apart.

‘Sister, I wonder why you seem to do everything late these days. Anyways, they’ve left!’

‘Left; left to where?’ I quickly cut in before Ituah could respond as I had become suspicious from his tone.

‘Well, I think Uncle Stanley mentioned Kaduna.’

Ituah jumped up and sat on the floor; her arms folded assuming the position of someone mourning a loss.

‘Ose, Uncle Stanley? What are you talking about; I seem to be the only one in the dark here. You know you can tell me anything, right. I’m only here to help.’ I confessed my confusion.

‘Well, Uncle Stanley came earlier this morning and said that there is a man who cures stroke in Kaduna; he said the results are usually faster than that seen in the hospital but sister refused even when mummy begged her to agree with Uncle Stanley. Then, she said…’

‘Shut up!’ Ituah cut in. Her voice was literally loud enough to make her brother take two steps backwards.

‘Wasn’t it you who told me that you saw Charles on your way back from the gym and that you were sure you he was going to the gym? What did I tell you afterwards? Ehn? Didn’t I tell you I would be back with Charles? Why did you let them leave without letting me know?’ she asked now moving close to the young man. He took more steps backwards to be sure he was maintaining a safe distance.

This is nothing strange in a Nigerian setting…

‘Ituah calm down’ I said, almost bursting out in laughter.

‘Charles, just leave me alone. Ose needs a dirty slap’

Now, this is also not strange in Nigeria—it’s at the point where you start begging someone not to be angry that the intensity of their anger rises.

After much persuasion, I left their house with many thoughts on my mind. Now, they are heading towards Kaduna to a traditional bone setter who is also a stroke healer, I really felt like laughing about the whole situation but in the real sense, it’s not funny. Many people come down with more severe deformities just from not receiving adequate care and going to the traditional healers. They don’t use x-rays or any other types of scans, they have no idea what is going on inside the body, and how can people trust them so much with their little knowledge never ceases to amaze me. Your body is not just a machine; you have blood running through your vessels! Your body should only be released for care first to you and then to a trusted member of the healthcare team.

People come down with many more complications after their treatment sessions with these guys and their ills (which weigh more than their benefits) cannot be overemphasized!

As I got to our gate, I thought I could figure out the next thing that would happen—mum would complain and complain about how I shouldn’t be dating Ituah as her prophet has warned. It’s either she sensed it in her spirit or she had a dream, but for me, I knew this is all about her bias on how I should marry someone in my field.

As I entered the house, she gave me her usual look when she was about to accuse me.

‘Charles, they even called me this time.’ She said her voice sounding like she was going to cry.

‘So, you went to see her again, is that right?’

I froze! Who called my mum? My normal response would have been laughter but it wasn’t coming this time. Been there, yeah?


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CHRONICLES OF A NIGERIAN PHYSIOTHERAPIST by 'Bola Abioye

EPISODE FIVE ‘Mum, who called you this time again?’ I finally asked. ‘Oh… Charles, that’s what matters to you now right. What matters to you is if it’s Prophet Jabesh or Prophet Judas that called me?’ Then I burst into laughter. I can’t help but wonder why these prophets must bear names as Judas, Jabesh…if you know, you know. Then she changed it for me straight up. ‘Charles, why exactly are you laughing? You know I get scared anytime you get close to that girl and you know that I am at the risk of having stroke with the way my blood pressure rises in little situations.’ There she goes again. My mum gets little information on health precautions and that’s the end. We hear nothing else save what she has learnt in the house for about at least a month. She subscribes to all sorts of health tips on her network and then tries to confirm her newly found information from me. She has several facts on why eating eba, using an onion bulb that has been cut once and use...