A wish was far from being required, neither an appeal, for the necessary celebratory and consolatory gathering of an entire family at the Female Surgical Ward of the very busy All-well Reference Hospital. It was one of those memorable days for Mrs. Elizabeth Leilah, a beautiful sunny day marking the beginning of
her existence on earth; one, never expected to come to light with her in a place as a hospital ward amidst series of excruciating distress. Only time had selfishly possessed that prior confidential knowledge.
In the previous year, Mrs. Leilah had turned 50, celebrating her golden jubilee in pomp and pageantry with lots of well-wishers in an overwhelming attendance. With that, new dreams had blossomed; but of course, it was a new age inevitably bearing its own traits! She was going to do so much, for her family, for the society and for herself. She had imagined every step she would take in achieving all her penned down goals and had even made some of the moves. How very easy it was for her to began. Everything was just perfect.
Well, outwardly it was perfect. Privately, she had made certain discoveries and she'd had fears long kept away from her children. The greatest fear had landed her here, right on the bed in a female surgical ward.
All her children together with her loving husband had tirelessly done everything to make her feel happy, loved, appreciated, hopeful and blessed notwithstanding the challenges only she herself knew how painfully difficult it was to bear. And as her family showed concern in doing all these things, she did likewise to
appear jolly because she knew what fears they had locked up in their hearts equally. Today, she had done the usual to herself in achieving that: she had lined her eyes with the eye pencil, powdered her pale face and smeared her lips with gloss.
That always gave her the look of a very healthy person just passing time in the hospital bed; not forgetting to add that it enhanced her beauty in a very much different manner. Her hair was nicely brushed and the gold ball earrings in her lobes gleamed richly. It was very imperative she banished that look of a sick
person. It was a look instrumental to communicating that negative message of hopelessness, pain, sadness and suffering. Although she didn't see the need for all the exaggerated celebration as her loved ones gathered, showering attention, she had felt the difference that the day was indeed special. Well, what other thing could she have asked for? Having one's family around was the most special thing. Yet another thing she so desired at the moment was peace - great peace - that peace worth having.
Outside in the car park, Mr. Chucks struggled to get out some items from the back seat of his Prado Jeep. Amongst them was a big box of cheese cake for Mrs. Elizabeth Leilah. She was not a relative neither was she a friend but he had grown so fond of this person, a stranger, who possessed so much in common with someone really dear to his heart - unfortunately, a departed loved one. Subtly, she brought back so much memories and for that reason he had just decided to give all attention, painstakenly making himself so available to proffer comfort to her and joy to the family in the very little way he felt he could, that which in turn gave him some soothing contentment.
As he entered the ward where she was admitted, she sighted him and smiled. It was good to see him again - such a brilliant man.
"Happy birthday, Mrs Leilah!" He greeted from the distance.
Everybody turned and the excitement increased. They were happy to see him and then there was an exchange of pleasantries. Finally he headed on to Mrs. Leilah's bed and gave her a hug.
"How do you feel today? I brought you this, ma," he said, opening the box to reveal the visually appealing cake.
"Wishing you long life and prosperity."
"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Chucks!" She managed to utter. " And to say the least I feel very good."
"Okay, Mummy you need to cut the cake now!" One of her daughters proposed quickly.
"Ola, please get a knife!" Her husband ordered.
Everyone promptly subscribed and made arrangements for the cake to be cut. Weakly, Mrs. Leilah sat up to a comfortable position as her husband offered assistance. She could feel an agonising pain doing that but kept it all to herself. She was not going to spoil the mood. Today was a day of joy and besides, she had hope. This was just going to be for a while. Next, the cake was placed on her lap and before they could begin to render the Happy Birthday song, she gently waved that they stop.
"I don't want any song. And please, no picture taking."
She detested taking pictures in the hospital, strongly kicking against it. She had her very special reasons. She didn't want any memory of the fact that she was suffering and as well putting her family through an emotional, physical, financial and mental torture. The hospital was not her place of gratification. They obliged. She took the knife and then divided the cake into big chunks for all the other ailing patients in the ward. Her great level of kindness was once again revealed.
She always jumped at the opportunity to express that. After the cutting of the cake, she let her son, Donald, share it from bed to bed together with chocolates and every other thing that had been brought in by the family. It was good to see her smile - at least she tried. Of course it was her birthday so she should. Yes, her day was made but she was tired.
She desperately needed rest. One of her daughters had presented a piece of expensive brown and gold lace material with lovely shoes and Mrs. Leilah had mentioned that she was going to sew it to wear for her thanksgiving to God after she is well and discharged. That was hope. She loved to give that. It was past four in the afternoon yet her sisters had not come. Mrs. Leilah wondered why they had decided to come much later. The excitement had died down and now she was really tired and in utmost pain. It was time. She knew. She had been strong enough for her husband and children and now needed to rest. The struggle was over.
Leaving her to take her nap, her family and their new friend, Mr. Chucks got engaged in a quiet conversation right beside the bed which spanned almost an hour but then suddenly, by chance, her husband noticed her breathing. It had changed pattern. Quickly, in alarm, he made it to the doctor's office, reporting the situation and dragging him along. Two other doctors joined them. On getting back to the ward, Mrs. Leilah was checked and finally it was realized that the situation had become an emergency. A bed screen was immediately spread opened around her corner and a cylinder of oxygen was rolled in. She was slipping away
fast, struggling with supernatural forces and biding the world goodbye.
Realizing what had come, a female nurse gently ushered her panicked loved ones out of the room. She knew this sort of moment.
As the oxygen mask was placed over Mrs. Leilah's face, she struggled with the practitioners to get it off. She was tired. She needed that final rest. She couldn't bear the anguish anymore - the torture, and so she inaudibly pleaded to be let go as she struggled to get the mask off her face with summoned strength. Here, there was no rest but up there dwelt everlasting peace. Enough was enough. Finally defeated by the determined doctors, she relaxed her strength and gently closed her eyes. The gas wasn't doing her any good and gradually she was beginning to feel nothing: no more pain, no more fear. She had battled with the dreaded cancer for months and now it had done its worse, eating her up slowly and then finally consuming her. All dreams dead, and goals underachieved. That was life, also marking September 15th a birth date and a death date; just for one person.
Watching the hospital staff running helter-skelter, together with Mrs. Leilah's aggrieved family members, through the ward window in absolute horror, Mr. Chucks relived the dying moment of his mother too who had passed on long ago from the same dreaded ailment. Grievously, he went away to a quiet place to weep. How sorrow tore at his heart as he mourned. It felt like she had died again because within just a short period, Mrs. Elizabeth Leilah, an adorable gentlewoman, had become so loved he could barely assume she wasn't his.
A birthday gone awry though, he was certain she was having her peaceful rest now; what more could she have deserved after all the suffering. At the moment, what was left was that phone call that broke bad news.
Seun John Onijamah is a new Nigerian fiction author born on the 8th of March 1984. He hails from the Ilesha East Local Government area of Osun state but resides in Lagos where he obtained his primary and secondary education from the Nigerian Navy Primary and Secondary Schools respectively.
A graduate of Economics Education from Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ogun state, he wrote his first novel, Peril at the age of 17 following a series of unpublished short stories; suspending it for a good period of nine years in pursuit of a higher education and other vocational skills. He finally had it published in August 2010 by Ganda Publishers. He enjoys good company, music, long walks, photography, creative art, cooking and loves to try new things.
Check out his book online: Peril by Seun Onijamah Email: seun@myfunkybirthday.com
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