Read Blissful Doom (Part 1)
I finally made the last turn leading to her house which was the second building to the left. I was honking like crazy. When I finally realized no one was manning the gate I bolted out of my car and banged the gate as much as my strength could permit me. At last, the gateman opened the gate.
“Where the hell have you been?” I snapped angrily at him
“Madam no vex…na my oga talk say make I come pack things for house” he held out a list.
“We carry madam go hospital…”
I just had to cut in “… which madam? Which hospital? Start taking me there right now”. He tried to argue with me claiming he has to do what his oga sent him… let’s just say I got him to get me to the hospital, the rest is history. I texted the address of the hospital to my husband.
I remember marriage didn’t change him. I remember wondering why she thought marriage would change him. I know she doesn’t enjoy the beating but she kept hoping the man she loved would just change. I remember the day she called to announce the good news “I’m pregnant!” I was happy for her, I truly was. I had tons of plans for her baby shower; I was ready to surprise the hell out of her. I remember how glad I was on one of the numerous visits to her place when she asked me to be her baby's godmother. I remember laughing and thinking 'that is so not African, godmother ke?' But I was happy, happy for her, happy she was happy, happy she was patiently expecting. Our happiness was shattered when he boxed the pregnancy out of her a few weeks later. I was sad, she was devastated. He pleaded, he accepted his fault, called himself a monster, said he will never make a good dad, said he needs redemption and he will never get the redemption without her. She mourned, she forgave him. Life goes on.
But he never stopped, he kept beating her, she kept losing her babies, he kept apologizing, and she kept forgiving. Parents told her to stay, after all, our society frowns at divorce. Friends envy her “Mrs” title, after all, marriages are supposed to be heavenly. Religious leaders counselled her to stay, after all, what God has joined together let no man put asunder. I never understood it, but she must have, because she stayed.
It’s been some months now. My husband and I with other well-wishers have been coming to the hospital hoping and praying for her quick recovery. Today I’m happy and excited to see her again, I haven’t been to the hospital for two days…well, that’s because I have a job and a life too. I have been told she’s fully awake now and I can’t wait to talk to her. I went straight to the doctor’s office; we exchanged pleasantries and he led me to her ward. My heart leapt with joy seeing her sit on the bed, I ran towards her and gave her the hug of her life.
“How are you feeling now…I’m so glad you are fine now….I brought some fruits…” I went on and on, I was happy.
“I’m fine, thank you” she replied
“Do you want the fruits now?” I asked as I made for my bag grinning from ear to ear but I stopped and my smile vanished when she spoke “I’m sorry, please who are you?” she searched for the doctor’s face and asked him “Who is she?”
I looked at the doctor, and his expression told me all I needed to know. That became the worst moment of my life, that moment when I was told that my best friend has amnesia. I wished it was a dream, a nightmare. I wished she was just being silly, and playing a prank on me, but it wasn’t a dream and, she never screamed: “This is a prank!”
Even now I still remember the doctor’s voice, crystal clear in my head… “I’m sorry madam… amnesia is usually associated with some form of brain damage probably through physical injury or as a result of shock, but it may also be caused by severe psychological trauma…”
“Moommmyy…poo poo… mooommmyy… poo poo” my son’s voice jotted me back to reality and as I hurried to attend to him, the question on my mind remains “What Next?” I fear for her, she has no idea what he has done, she is vulnerable, she will probably go back to him. AGAIN!