https://penastory.com/2016/11/05/from-akoka-to-yaba-left-part-2/

Excerpt from Part 1

I know you most definitely want to know all about how I ended up here but I hear the footsteps of the nurses fast approaching. It is time for our daily injection but not to worry, I promise to complete my story next weekend. Stay tuned.

To read part 1: Visit profile or www.penastory.com

Nurse Titi walked in dejectedly with her funny looking make-up. I could swear she always looked like a masquerade and this made me wonder if it was actually intentional. Was she trying to make fun of us or were the nurses treating us actually ex-psychiatric patients? Her eyes were fire red and I could see it clearly even though she managed to force a smile.

“Mad people.” She mumbled repeatedly. At this point, I looked at her puzzled. This wasn’t the usual Nurse Titi, something was wrong but I had to wait through the anxious hours of her round. I watched her carefully as she wore her gloves, meticulously handled the injections and carefully injected every one of us, one after the other. Watching her brought back memories of how I ended up here. My heart ached in bittersweet pain. I remember the day just like yesterday.

“Segun, where are you going to again?” It was the voice of my ever nosy roommate.

“Oga, no disturb me jare, I dey go overnight.” I have never enjoyed his persistent questioning so I always told him off with my harsh responses.

“Ahhh, bobo yi, ma para e. You beta no kill yourself oh. You have been in the library since 8:00am with no break, no food, no water, you came back to hostel, closed your eyes for five minutes and you are going for overnight again?” If only he knew I wasn’t after a first class, If only he knew I was only following my doctor’s instructions of getting my mind busy.

Fast forward to exactly 30 minutes later at room 102 in Faculty of Arts at exactly 12:05am, my stomach began to rumble, my body began to boil hot, my heartbeat made a continuous hundred meters dash and then the voice. I heard a loud cry from heaven but I couldn’t interpret. It was a strange language. I screamed out, “who are you?” but all I got was a delayed reply. I became vexed in my body and soul. My salivary gland instantly dried up as my legs began to weaken. I was a warrior that particular day and even as I ripped off my clothes, running round naked in the Faculty of Arts, I could feel my inner man’s refusal for such fate.

Three years after, I’m still searching for hope, searching for someone to believe me that I am back to my senses. I am no longer mad; in fact I was never mad, it was just a nightmare and a struggle against principalities and powers in hidden places. They made me act that way, they made me converse with them and dance to their music. I always wondered why nobody else heard them except me and maybe my fellow patients in the ward. I swear I am not mad. Please help me tell Nurse Titi and my family. I AM NOT MAD.

Source: PenAStory - www.penastory.com