Doctor! He’s passed on!

I heard the young nurse as she walked past us to a telephone where she placed a call for the ambulance to come take the new corpse to the morgue. Her eyes were as dry as though nothing saddening happened, and immediately the room was occupied by a patient who had just been rushed in by a group of her family members for treatment.

I stared with open mouth as the man was being rolled away on a stretcher to where the ambulance was packed ready for takeoff. At this time, I was still confused which of the patients had been taken away from the face of this earth— this part of the earth, as I heaved a heavy sigh not because another soul was gone, but because I had lost a customer. As I bent over to pick some balls of akara (beans cake) for the doctor, my attention was caught by the loud cry I heard in front of the building, and I straightened up to see who the dead person was related to.

I was shocked to my marrow bones when I discovered it was the man’s wife who had handed me some money on the hallway to sell my akara to her husband as she was going home to get some change of clothes for him. Could you give it to me already? A voice said as I looked up to see the doctor who had held out his hand for minutes to get his share of akara from me. I handed him the bag slowly and deliberated on either to take the money from him or not. After all, it was the only reason why I stepped out of my house to the clinic and every other place I went to.

By now, you should know I am a trader who hawks morning breakfast—akara, bread, pap and even garri for your healthy and sumptuous breakfast. I became a regular customer when the nurses there advised I could make more sales if I went from one room to the other to know the number of persons who were interested to have what I had to offer. I had seen positive results as the number of sales kept skyrocketing in the clinic, and it was fun because I thought to myself that the more patients in the hospital, the higher my sales would be. And this is what I was doing on a Tuesday morning, selling to a man whose wife had paid me for what he needed.
That I did. He thanked me after and was already done with a ball of my akara while I was searching for his change. I thought he was doing great as I handed him the balance and walked out of his room, promising him to be there the next morning. I never asked him if I could help with anything in the room, at least for the two minutes I sold to him. I wasn’t there to waste much time, I’ve done my own part for the day in this room, I thought to myself.

I left the room. Just as I took a few steps from his room, I noticed I didn’t have my pap container by my side anymore, and I took a quick U-turn to get it. Walking down, I noticed the man was trying to get my attention as he held up the container, mumbling some words I didn’t hear. I hastened and got it from him with a quick thanku’ and rushed back to meet up with my other patient-customers in the clinic, and those who were waiting outside the four walls of the clinic--- I need the cash, everybody does! I exclaimed to myself in my heart. After selling to a few more customers, I went to the reception to give the doctor his own share of my akara where a nurse walked up to him to break the news of the man’s death—my customer who helped in bringing my pap to me.

A few moments after I recovered from the shock, I approached the nurse to ask what the cause of the man’s departure was. The arresting reply I got was this, he was not permitted to leave his bed for a couple of hours due to what the doctor had given to him. I opened my mouth to tell her I was the cause of his death, but she shut me up when she added, he was stubborn by walking around, and ended up dying while trying to climb back on his bed. I felt my legs shaking so violently as I rushed back home, crying my eyes out.

His death was not the shocking part as I had become used to seeing this daily in the clinic, but the reason for his death. Did I really send someone to his early grave? Yet, seeing people there suffering was normal to me as I was blinded with my quest to make money. I was insensitive to this man’s cry for help. To be honest with you, back in the room, I saw when he was trying to reach out for his tea that was a little distant from his bed, but I pretend as though I saw nothing and dashed out to continue with my sales for the day.

Is this what happens with me every single day? This man was so selfless to the point of risking his own life for me by being honest, loving, and compassionate to the point of death. I couldn’t think of anything else as I ran back to God to renew my love for Him. I was not typically a sinner, but my desire, urge, zeal, and love for God had diminished so badly that I couldn’t tell when a fellow person was desperately in need of help.

Would like to invite @anthony002, @coolj2 and @monz122 to participate in the contest.

Special mention

@sofian88
@coolj2