The doctor just walked in briskly, followed by the same nurse. On sighting him, Wole quickly sprang up from the bed as if stung by a scorpion. He was impatient and wanted the doctor attending to his wife urgently.
"Ekaro OO Arakunrin ati arabirin,’’ the doctor’s greeting in Yoruba language, in English language it means: good morning, Mr. and Mrs.
Doctor Williams had the looks and speech of someone who would depart from you at the slightest hesitation. His Yoruba language was usually peppered with English accent or words, like a white colonialist who had learnt the local language. Most of the villagers, especially the old ones who had not been to urban areas before, had to open their ears very wide to comprehend his clumsy speech.
He was a man of about 40, very dark and roundly built. His trousers were tight from waist down to knees but flare from knees to ankles, making his short legs looked longer while walking. The shining straight part that cut across his bushy head at the right side, gave his head the look of a thick forest with a sandy path. That was the type of the trending trouser and hair style referred to as old-school in the urban places like Ilutuntun. His white robe has turned grey for too frequent wash and wear. On his neck was a dangling old stethoscope. When doing his accustomed briskly walking, his very bushy head would sway left and right like a tree dancing to the rhythm of the wind. He was highly respected by the villagers almost like the white-masters.
The Government posted him from Ilutuntun some years earlier. The first sets of doctors in the clinic were white men cum missionaries, who left in 1960 after the country gained independent from Britain.
By the use of modern medicine, the white doctors had helped the villagers solved frequent child-birth problems; particularly miscarriages and still-births, which the villagers had named Abiku. In a nutshell, the villagers had believed Abiku was caused by the evil spirits before the white doctors came.
Different kinds of animals, foodstuffs and other sacrificial elements were used in appeasing the spirits. Some parents even went as far as marking the skin of their dead Abiku children with sharp knives or razors. They believed that would make them to be recognized and proper sacrifices made to prevent them from dying, if they happened to be reborn.
But the villagers used to be disappointed later, because in most cases, these rituals would not prevent the evil spirits from taken away the children if they wanted to. But contrary to the villagers’ beliefs, the white doctors made most of the villagers realized that wrong genotype combination in couples; malnutrition and other forms of diseases were the root causes of their child-birth issues, not any evil spirit. Therefore, the innocent evil spirit was left to rest but unappeased or worshipped while modern medicine was at work.
"Ekaaro dokita wa,’’ Wole replied the doctor’s greeting with the most submissive voice he could muster, "Good-morning our doctor.’’
Alake was unable to reply the greeting out of too much pain. She produced a loud groan instead.
"You’re her husband, right?’’ Doctor Williams inquired.
"Yes...Yes Doctor!’’ Wole replied, trying hard to control his trembling body.
Doctor William’s nodding meant "it’s alright or I heard you’’, but Wole sensed danger from that. He became more terrified and nervous.
Doctor Williams bent down before Alake. He put the stethoscope’s earpieces on his ears and put it chest-piece on Alake’s bare bellybutton.
"Your wife ought to give birth today. You’re aware of that too, aren’t you?’’ Doctor Williams asked, rising up to face Wole squarely.
"Yes doctor, I’m aware,’’ replied Wole in a frightened voice, ‘’her nine months should be completed today.’’
"Good!’’ commended doctor Williams, "most men who had brought their pregnant wives here hardly knew that…’’
He wanted to ask why he did not bring his wife from day one for ante-natal care but he kept quite. That would not be necessary, he thought. Only the well-to-do farmers allowed their pregnant wives to come for such exorbitant luxury. Wole did not look rich to him. With his ragged farm clothes and uneven dark skin like the back of a burnt-pot, he did not look like someone who could afford the antenatal care expenses at all. As-you-dress-you-would-be-addressed adage came to his mind. He smiled briefly, shaking his bushy head.
"Hope there’s no problem, Doctor?’’ Wole asked, his heart beating faster as Doctor Williams examined Rolake in silence. His smile and shaking of head had scared Wole, thinking he had diagnosed something bad in his wife’s pregnancy.
In Awoye village, they believed there were two types of smiles; the one that came out of happiness and the one that come out of sadness. Wole thought the doctor was smiling because he had seen a bad thing about his wife’s pregnancy.
"Hope my wife’s pregnancy is in good condition?’’ Wole proceeded to asked again, feared why the doctor refused to reply him. "Hope she’ll deliver safely?’’
"There is nothing to worry about, mister. Your wife and the baby are in good health conditions. Just keep your cool.’’ Dr Williams replied Wole calmly. He removed a pen from his breast pocket and a paper from his side pocket and scribbled something very fast. He handed the paper to Wole when he was done.
"Oh no, Doctor,’’ Wole replied, rejecting the paper, shaking his head in self-pity. "I can’t read nor write. I haven’t been to a school before.’’
"Well, that isn’t a problem. I’ll read it to you,’’ said Doctor Williams, a mocking, sheepish smile brightened his charcoal dark face. "It’s the total amount of money you’ll pay for your wife’s delivery and the drugs she’ll need afterwards…’’
"How much is that, doctor; I mean the total amount of the bill?’’
"It’s not much, just twenty naira only…’’
"Twenty naira,’’ Wole almost screamed, held tight to his head with both palms as if it could burst from too high tension.
"Yes…’’ Doctor said carelessly, "you’re paying just twenty naira for the delivery process, the drugs, the bed, the care…everything! The money should be paid to the nurse at the counter near the entrance, immediately. We ought to commence the delivery process of your baby already. Too much of time wasting is going to be dangerous for her and the baby.’’
"But doctor, I don’t think I can raise such huge amount of money any time soon. The peppers we went to harvest this morning are still on the farm. Even if they’re sold, the proceeding won’t make one-third of the bill. Please have mercy on us doctor.’’
"Have mercy on you in what way?’’ Doctor Williams looked angry. "This maternity hospital is not a charity organization. ‘’
"I know doctor but you can still find a solution for us somehow.’’
"You heard me when I said this hospital is not for charity, right? Can’t you go and take a loan from your people and pay back later?’’
"Ah Doctor, we all know in this village it is all men for themselves. Nobody will be willing to borrow us money. And even if they have to, it would come with cut-throat interests...’’ Wole stopped talking to allow the doctor give a favorable reply. But when the doctor did not talk but just shaking his head, feeling confused on what to say next, he continued talking. "And if you wouldn’t say we are asking for too much, you can as well help us on credit…’’
"Credit you say?’’ Doctor Williams fixed his eyes into Wole’s in great amazement.
He did not expect Wole to think of credit at all. It was as if Wole was deliberately trying to plant a seed crop on a rock, asking for credit in the maternity. It sounded so very uncommon thing to him. The maternity board of directors had banned treatment on credit many years past. Since one low-in-come young farmer, Akinlabi, had ran away from the village without paying his bill, after being treated of a large wound.
"Sorry, we do not tolerate such crap here,’’ he raised his voice in anger as he spoke. "What do you want me to tell the hospital board of directors if they discover? I could be sacked for treating on credit! Do you want me to lose my means of livelihood on your account?’’
"It’s not like that, Doctor.’’ Wole said, robbing his palms together, pleading, "since you’re our last hope, I think you can do anything, just anything within your powers to assist us. We plead to you, Doctor.’’
"I wish I could be of help honestly but my hands are tied,’’ Doctor Williams sighed and said calmly now, unexpectedly developing some pity in his heart for Wole. Even Wole became hopeful at the sudden change of the doctor’s mood. The doctor was having the looks of someone whom something like a burden was weighing down, wished to throw it away but could not. "I’ve my job to protect. You wouldn’t want me to lose my means of livelihood on your account, would you?’’
Too hopeless to reply, Wole shook his head slowly, his mind sad and hopeless again.
"I suggest you take your wife to the village traditional mild-wife or priest or whatever. Majority of those who couldn’t afford our bills do so,” Doctor Williams said in a low voice with air of finality, making his way out of the ward. The nurse followed him. He turned his back briskly and added, "but her safety and that of her unborn baby are not guaranteed. Don’t say I made you go there. Perhaps, it’s against my profession to point a traditional medicine house to patients, but in this case I have no other option.’’
Wole sank back on the bed wearily, besides Alake; his hands clasped on his chest, sorrowfully staring into vacancy. He couldn’t fathom what next to do. He buried his round face in his roughed palms, roughened like the bark of a tree by frequent holding of machete and hoe handles. He was swimming in thoughts. Alake who was leaning her back on the wall suddenly let out a loud groan. Wole raised his head sharply. He held her by her shoulder blades.
"My dear,” Alake pulled all the strength left in her and spoke out, "please take me to Iyaagbebi as the doctor has suggested. Remember, I told you the same thing on the way.”
"Yes dear, but the doctor also added that it is not really safe.’’
"When there is no money for the maternity bills now what should we do? Please take me to her, my beloved. I belief I will be alright there. This pain is too much for me to bear any longer.’’
"I’m entertaining some fears at the back of my mind about Iyaagbebi’s delivery.’’
Pessimism and panic were obvious on Wole’s face now. A sudden thought sprang in his mind. Should he go to Chief Alade’s house to solicit for a loan? No. He declined as a sudden fear gripped his mind at the suggestion. Alade charged too high interests on his loans and could sniff life out of any debtor who could not pay back on time. Majority of the villagers dreaded borrowing money from him. Those who had done so and could not pay back at the slated time had a lot of nasty stories to tell. He would lead his male servants to their huts to beat them up, seized their farmlands or one of their family members, forcing them to get his money at all cost. He was as callous as the historical Shylock, who could take a pound of flesh as a repayment of a loan.
Apart from the harsh ways Alade treated his debtors that scared Wole; he abhorred borrowing anything from anyone. He believed borrowing enslaved the borrower to the lender. For instance, when a borrower could not pay his debts at the right time, he would be at the mercy of the lender. He could be insulted or even spat on and would not have mouth to talk.
"Don’t you worry my beloved. Take me to her. I belief I’ll be fine there...” Alake’s reassurance words broken into his thought.
"Alright, alright dear,’’ Wole concurred with a fainted, anguished voice. He had no other choice.
Meanwhile, he assisted Alake to stand on her feet, holding her by the waist. And they walked out of the ward carefully.