CHAPTER 24
I held the girl's arm tightly and we ran for almost a minute or more. While we were running, the strange girl kept muttering things I couldn't comprehend. She was still intoxicated with alcohol. We stopped running after I realized we were both tired and were panting heavily. We stood and were resting by a corner. "Where do you live?" I asked while struggling to catch my breath. "1st street."she slowly replied. "What? That's quite far you know? How did you end up there? " I retorted. She didn't utter a word. I felt angry. I held her hand once more but this time not too tightly and we walked down to her street. As we walked down to her street, I couldn't help but imagine what would have happened if I didn't show up that moment. She would have been raped and might get pregnant. I remembered the one night stand Jamila and I joked about in the afternoon and how the annual ghetto fiesta was said to be a major cause of the babies we have around. She was a bit sobbe
Fetty is ill.
CHAPTER 25: THE GENESIS OF MENTAL ILLNESS "She'll be fine." said Dr. Amrah after injecting me in my hand via my vein. "She is much stable right now. Tommorow by Gods grace, we shall carry out some tests on her and give you the results." she added. "Thank You Doctor replied my mother. I loved the way my Mother always carried me on her back as a child. I was six years older than Osifa so I had the liberty of enjoying the entitlements of an only child for a while. Tonight, my Mother carried me on her back from our home all the way to the clinic. I felt awkward when she lifted me and placed me on her bag like she did when I was a baby. I lay on her back like a cooked vegetable. I was weak, helpless and very ill. When my mother returned from the bar, I was on the bed sweating and breathing heavily. My head was aching terribly, my joints ached too and my temperature could set the room ablaze. "Sister Fetty is sick." I heard Tami say. "She didn't eat since afternoon." Kiki sa
"Anxiety disorder" she began is a dimension of mental health disorder that is characterized by feelings of worry, fear and anxiety." I nodded my head even though I couldn't process all she was saying. 'Was I going crazy? " I thought. "Anxiety disorder can be strong enough to interfere with a person's daily activities." She added. "So what can I do to stop it"? I interrupted. "Well since you asked of my oipinion, I'll say you see a specialist... uhm.. Like a therapist.. Psychologist.. " "No I interrupted. " she looked at me surprised. I have read about few kinds of mental illnesses in a book I came across in the library. In some of the novels I read, I read how characters undergo therapy sessions, having baseless conversations and to me the entire activity was a bit dumb. There was a time a character suffering from depression in one of the books was asked what he ate during his first therapy session. I wasn't willing to go down that boring line of therapy sessions and besides g
I walked home basking in the enthusiasm of my new found love. 'My piece of poetry". I held the paper firmly and kept glancing and marveling at it's content. I never knew I could ever write a piece as so. 'Sometimes, circumstances bring out the best in people' they say. After going through the chapter of anxiety disorder contained in the book titled 'THE MIND', I came to realize I had been a victim of this disorder for quite a long period of time. My fears, worries and assumptions kept triggering the disorder and I never realised. My teacher from Junior Secondary School will say "It pays to be informed." and at this point, I can gladly attest how valuable information is. After severally reading the article on anxiety disorder from the book, I got a mental picture of what I was dealing it. I was able to analyze the ailment and work towards realizing the proffered solutions. I hurried home. I just can't wait for my first session with Dr. Amrah the next day. I went inside ou
I wiped the tears running down my cheeks with my left palm. Dr. Amrah watched me keenly without saying a word. She was letting me have a moment. What will she do next? I thought. "Fetty let's go." She said. I wasn't sure whether I properly heard her. "Home? " I retorted. "Yes we are going home. " she said again. I wanted to ask her how she felt after I divulged my secrets to her. I wanted to know what her response will be but instead she said nothing, she wanted us to go home. I got up, folded the traditional indian mat and placed it in the trunk of her car. We drove back into London without uttering a word to each other. "Can you please drop me at the bar? " I pleaded. "Sure." She replied. "But you'll have to show me the way." She added. I nodded. We got to the bar after I gave her directions using my hands and she parked right in front of our bar. Before I hopped down, she held my hand, hugged me tightly saying "I am proud of you." I smiled not knowing what to say or do at t
The demolition notices that came round the neighborhood is a sham. My mother, Shadrach James and I got to know about it with the guidance we had from my late father's diary. Razzi, S.M. G Dangana, Benson Daniel and the Major General form the cabal that rob people of thier entitlements and property in the neighborhood. We got to discover that they print out demolition notices, give it around with the aid of some allies from the government construction site and Urban palnning development then threaten to evict or demolish the buildings. Residents on the other hand, innocently fall victims to such tricks then pay certain amounts to the cabal who parade themselves as saints soliciting on behalf of poor people. If only the victims knew the notices came from the people they put thier faith into. If only these people know that the money they offer to these men as compensation to the construction and demolition body goes no where. My father got to know about the conspiracy and this le
"From what I learned at the bar today, " began my mother. "The notice is exactly what Shadrach described. One month expiration duration and yes people have started seeing Razzi." she said. "This is serious." I said after heaving a deep sigh. "Do you know the most astonishing thing? " she continued. " "No." I repiled. "One customer was hailing Razzi in the bar today. In his words. "Our homes and stores would have gone down the drain if not the Razzi." said my mother. "Poor people." I said. "Poor people indeed." she replied. "What must we do? " I asked. "Nothing Fetty. We can't do anything. This thing is beyond us." answered my mother. "Let's get some sleep. It's really late." she added. I lay close to my sisters thinking about the conspiracy. In my recent poem, I wrote a line that says "You can't play the creator's role." and the Reverend will say "God will not come down from heaven and perform all tasks. Sometimes, you'll have to take it by force." I tossed from on
I was able to convince my mother to let me take Razzi's son on a tour. "You barely know him. " she objected. "He might be the miracle we need to unravel the demolition conspiracy." I had said. If Razzi's son wants a tour, I'll give him a tour. I am even ready to know him and perhaps be his friend as long as I would get what I want. "Are you ready? " he asked from outside. "Almost." I replied while looking for my little purse beside our centre table. "Let's go." I announced. It was few minutes past 4pm. "For how long will the tour lasts? " he inquired. "A year." I jokingly replied. He chuckled. "Touring the whole of London will take long but since your Internship program will last for six months, am sure we have all the time in the world." I maintained while locking our door. "I shall take you to the essential areas today." I began. "We should be back in an hour or more." I added. "Okay." he said. I took him to the book store and we stood outside the building. "This is
"Fetty I am so proud of you. " began Dr. Amrah. I came to her office as soon as I dropped my cookies for the day in the bar. "When did you realize you could write? " she asked. "Can I? " I replied. "Of course my dear. Your content is always genuine, deep and inspirational." she said. I smiled feeling proud. "I'll advice you write more. Write as often as possible. Consistency will bring out the best in you. " she affirmed. "So how do I get inspired? What can I write about.? " I said. "You'll always find your way." she replied with her usual bright smile. "You think I can write the way renowned authors do? " I said. "You can be anything you want." she immediately replied. "As long as you put your heart and soul into it. " she added. I nodded. "You know Fetty, Literature for me depicts another dimension of life." she continued. "Writing is not just a art. It's a gift and that's why we have those who can write and those who were born to write. " she said. I nodded.