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June 19

I was discharged from the hospital today. The sound of Mrs. Uju's voice made my heart jump for joy as she led me slowly to her car.

"You will be fine, Perer. I wish you could have lasted up to a week," she said, "so you will learn to appreciate God for everything he has done in your life and in the life of your family."

I raised my eyebrows, wondering if she was trying to be polite with the words she said or if she was trying to persuade me to follow her religion, her way of life that I could spend a day of my existence condemning.

"Besides," she added, "it will do you good to know that my daughter came here with me."

"The one that doesn't talk to me in your house?" I asked, rather skeptical.

"If she blinks way too much then that is my daughter."

I smiled, reasoning how many times I have seen Mrs. Uju's daughter in her house, always silent, always thinking about something only her could understand. Her condition suited her well. The whole blinking disorder was suited for someone of her
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