I walked into the ward; the
female one, headphones firmly
glued over my pinnae.
Kendrick Lamar’s Money
Trees was playing. On the
other hand, I was proudly
showing off my new Beats By
Dre headphones (I had to give
up on alcohol for two weeks to
save money to purchase it). As
I walked in, I went straight to
the Nurse’s cubicle. ‘How far,
how you dey?’, I inquired.
‘Funky doctor, na now you dey
show’, Nurse Titi replied. We
exchanged more pleasantries.
‘Abeg, arrange the swab, a pair
of gloves and syringe for me. I
suppose don collect this sample
since’. In ten minutes, I got
what I asked for. All the while
Money Trees was oozing out
of the objects over my ears.
I headed to where she lay. I
tapped her right shoulder. Her
eyes opened. The ghost of a
smile played around her thick
dark lips. ‘Funky doctor, na wa
for you o. You just bone my
side’, she said. ‘Amaka
township, no be so na. I had to
go to the bank. You know say
bank alert just show yesterday
na’, I replied. She smiled again.
‘That means say I go get better
take away fried rice from you
today. You know say na
Tantalizer own I dey like’, she
said. I gave her the thumbs up
and she nodded.
She saw the syringe. And the
wet swab. Her eyes became
weak and exhausted. She
sighed and turned her head to
the left and stared at the
distance. She stared at nothing.
Her thoughts must be racing
quickly like the stallions at a
horse-racing joint (doing their
best to earn money for the
greedy gamblers). ‘Everyday,
una dey collect my blood. Test
today, test tomorrow. Test no
dey finish?’, she retorted. I had
to explain all over again.The
investigations had to be done
again before administering the
second phase of chemotherapy.
I promised it won’t be painful.
I would be quick and I would
sing a special song for her
while at it. What was her
favorite? She laughed heartily.
‘Golibe’ by Flavour N’Abania.
Or ‘Yori Yori’. The one wey
Bracket sing’, she replied.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know
the lyrics to the songs so I sang
another one for her.
In a few minutes, I was done.
‘Hold the cotton wool well o, so
blood no go comot’. She did as
I requested. As I turned to
leave, she held the edge of my
ward suit. At that moment, I
felt like Jesus and she, the
woman with the issue of blood.
‘Funky doctor, tell me the
whole truth as a child of God.
Would I be OK? Will this
sickness go away? Am I going
to live?’, she asked. I paused
for a moment. I had to be
professional this time around. I
had to be a wise guy. ‘Amaka
township, haba? Of course na.
No worries. God is on the
throne. The plans of the enemy
will not work. After the whole
chemotherapy, you would be
very OK’. She smiled once
more and reclined in her bed.
She felt relieved. I dropped
the tray, washed up and said
my goodbyes while promising
to be back with her tantalizer
take away fried rice .
I knew I lied. I felt guilty. The
light at the end of the tunnel
was closing fast on her; the
cells have metastasized. I am a
child of the devil. He is the
father of all liars. I am a
godless soul. Soon, I’d have to
redeem my soul. I would tell
her the truth. But ‘soon’ may
never come.
At the door, I flipped out my
iPod and changed songs. Iris by
Goo Goo Dolls. I pressed play
and walked through the
corridors into the sunset.
Straight on to the laboratory.
WHAT IS TRUTH? WHAT IS
HOPE? WHAT IS HAPPINESS?
WHAT IS LIFE? WHAT IS
DEATH?

PS: Please, say a prayer for
a cancer patient today. They
need our prayers!