Foraine Amukoyo Gift - The Invalid Citizen And Other Stories

“Iya…you should just lock the shop until we are back. I will help you arrange your wares and sell for the day.”

“Sissy, please not today, I cannot make it. Please do not be annoyed. You know I am the only one fending for the family. My husband is yet to get another job. I am trying to raise capital for him to start a small business.”

“Yes Iya, I understand. I wish I could help,” Sissy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Sissy, your patronage is an assurance that we make profit and be able to keep body and soul together. Please tell more of your friends to patronize underclothes from me. I will sell at good prices,” she started fixing the finest, sexy pants into hangers.

“Sure I will, Iya. I will be on my way. I will share useful information when I return. How is your son? You did not bring my fine boy to the shop?” Sissy peered into the shop.

“He stayed home with his father today. Let him babysit for today.”

“That is good. Iya, I will see you later. Send my love to my fine boy,” Sissy left and Iya fully opened her shop.

After she made some sales, Iya added up the money to previous sales and counted. She looked sad at the total sum spread in her palms. She rummaged through her wooden coffer and came up disappointed. Invoices, kola nut, old pen and some torn naira notes were all that filled the box.

“God, I am far from gathering substantial amount for my husband to start his phone repair business. God, please boost sales so I can raise enough money.” Iya got up and propped up her goods to attract customers. She sang as she mopped her veranda.

Iya closed the shop very late. She reached home and flung her bag on the nearest chair. Her son was in a feverish condition, “Kenny, why did you not call me?” She bundled her son into her arms.

“I did not want to disturb you. He has had warm temperature since 4 pm, it worsened this night, like an hour ago,” Kenny brought agbo to feed the boy.

Iya pushed the cup of agbo away. “No, he is not getting better. Do not give him the herb. Let us take him to the hospital,” she said.

Kenny was frantic. He hurried into the bedroom and changed from his boxers to a trouser. They left for the hospital in anxiety.

The hospital admitted the child. “Madam, what have you been treating your child with? He is in a severe condition,” the doctor said.

“Doctor, he has been well, he was not sick,” Iya said in a weepy tone.

“He has been sick for a long time, the symptoms were not clear to you. He is very sick,” the doctor scribbled on the baby’s medical report card.

“Oh, my God, what sickness is that?” Kenny asked. He looked pale all of a sudden.

“What did you give him before coming here, what drugs have you given him?” The doctor asked.

“Agbo sir, it is usual to give him herbal medicine to cure his sugar belly because some nice patrons at my shop do give him sweet things to eat and drink.” The doctor shook his head. Iya held the doctor’s arms and went on her knees, “Doctor, please save my son. I cannot bear any other child. Please, his birth was complicated. My Doctor removed my womb to stop the infection from spreading. My son is my life.”

“Madam, we are doing our best. We will run a test on him. Nurse, please get his blood sample.”

“Please save our son,” Kenny said.

“We will do our best. Nurse, get the blood test done with immediacy.” The doctor patted Kenny’s shoulder and left the room.

Some minutes later, the doctor said to the nurse, “nothing can be done for the child. He has few hours to live. The herbal components have cut his liver and opened holes in his kidney, whatever that was mixed in the substance was acidic. It was too toxic for a boy who has not clocked a year old.”

The nurse looked at Iya and her husband, “oh, it is a pity. I wish a miracle could happen. This horrible news will shatter the couple,” she said.

“Doctor,” Iya screamed. The doctor and nurse ran into the room. He put the thermometer on the boy’s chest. He sighed. He gestured for the nurse to cover the corpse.

Iya stopped the nurse. She turned to the doctor, “Doctor, what is she doing?”

“I am sorry madam, we lost him,” the doctor said.

Iya screamed and whipped her body on the floor. She grabbed the doctor’s robe. “Do not take away my child from me. Look, I have money,” she threw the sales money at the doctor, “take all the money and treat my child. Doctor, please bring my child back to life.” She turned to the nurse, “I am sure you are a mother; you know I will not be able to live without my child. I cannot live through this pain.”

Kenny dragged her into the hallway. She was kicking and crying, “Someone should bring back my child.”

Kenny shook her roughly, “stop this Iya. Our precious son is no more. He is dead.” Iya went quiet. Kenny laughed insanely. He dropped to the floor and cried.

My brother and I sat in front of a local pharmacy. My feet hurt from walking about. My mother came out of the drugstore. “Mama, I am tired. I feel so weak. Can we not stay home today?” I said to my mother.

Mama swallowed some pills and drank water. She sat on a crate and massaged her hands and legs, “we must work hard, or else there will not be food for us to eat. Come on, we have to hurry to make some money. The pain will disappear once you walk around,” Mama said as she tagged us along to the big market.

As much as I could remember, it had always been hard work all day if we must survive. Things only got worse after our eviction from Ileoda. The turbulent sea had threatened to submerge our community. The government marked down the waterfront and issued an eviction letter to residents of Ileoda.

The Minister of Housing and Environment had said it was for the good of its dwellers. The government said the reason was to build better houses for us. We tried to fight against it because these decent structures would not have a place for low lives like us. The restructuring roadmap of Ileoda did not include avenues for the poor. The government only wanted to get us out of the waterfront with no plans for settlement and they succeeded.

We were miserable and powerless to fight the government. Later, we were happy to get a court injunction, but the battle won, was short lived. The demolishers ignored the court injunction. They brought bulldozers to our homes and destroyed everything.

The demolition of houses and properties caused displacement of over fifty thousand residents of Ileoda. Many had nowhere to go. Some people expressed their displeasure by committing suicide. My family and I slept under different bridges for weeks until we were able to rent a room.

We reached the big market. My brother and I carried goods on our heads while Mama stacked customers’ items on a plank sitting on her head and walked toward the motor park. As Mama was crossing the road, a speedy ambulance vehicle hit her. She died on the spot. We became orphans.

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