NewStats: 3,265,246 , 8,186,122 topics. Date: Saturday, 14 June 2025 at 04:55 AM 1h4s4l

hahn:


Lovely story. Your writing style is very cool. Following

.
Why thank you very much.

Coldfaya:



See u! Canoe soap is even ahead of soda in the pecking order so u can imagine. Soda is locally made.

Mehn persin don see suffer head small sha. God I thank You for today.

rapmike:
Soda soap as in Canoe bar-soap?

That's ridiculous, though possible.

Poverty at its peak.

Aje - butter
Canoe soap is ten times better than soda soap

She came into my office with huge pleading eyes, like she wanted to report something to me but didn't know how. her skin was covered in blisters and dried up rashes and I squirmed in my seat as I imagined how those blemishes would feel to her. As i watched she itched and scratched and i involuntarily found myself doing the same.

Her parents followed soon after. Her father, a no-nonsense looking type of man, walked in proudly in his dirty blue overall and straw hat. No one needed to tell me he was a labourer and a hard-working one at that. his small stature was easily lost in his towering demeanor as he looked down at me through his thick mustache as i sat on my chair. I resisted the urge to stand up and salute him.

His wife came in next. She wore a bright yellow blouse and two wrappers wrapped around her thick waist. She smelt as bad as he did and seemed to have this "I-dare-you-to-say-anything-about-my-smell look. They ordered the child to sit down and then glared at me like i was the cause of their problems. I smiled but they didn't reciprocate. It wasn't anger I saw though but pride. Proud parents both of them. It dawned on me suddenly that their pride would have and would continue to bring them a lot of grief in this life.

'Good afternoon sir, madam.' I enthused. "What can I do for you?"

"This is our daughter." The man said, pulling the little girl towards me. I guessed her age at ten and then looked at her card: six.

Man, she looked old.

"She has rashes on her body, we have been treating it and treating it but it refuse go". The man explained in his near perfect english. I decided to relax him a bit.

"Ehen, as the rash no go wetin una come do na? Una no fit clap for am make e run comot?" I smiled.

The girl giggled.

The woman hid her grin behind her hand.

The man said nothing. Just looked at me deadpan like; This is a serious matter and you are joking?

"Like i said doctor, this rash has been here for a long time." He said slowly and deliberately. it was obvious he didnt come to hospital for the laughs.

I stopped smiling immediately.

"How long?" I queried.

"Three years now." He replied. "We have tried rubbing cream, palm oil, crude oil, snail (at this point my jaw dropped),

"Snail"

The man glared at me.

"Yes doctor. SNAIL"

I pretended i understood and nodded sympathetically.

"Even the snail did not work. We now started using hydraulic because my friend tell me hydraulic treat anything."


"Did it work?" I asked with mock curiousity.

"Not at all. Doctor I have tried all I can, and wasted so much money. I decided to come to hospital to see if we can run test." he finished finally.

I asked the now scared looking girl to stand up. When most kids are being handled by a doctor they think we are going to magically bring an injection and needle from somewhere and jab them with it. Many a children's doctor has found himself chasing round a room trying to catch a child that has made up its mind to protect his or her bum from that horrible magical needle, usually the mother assists in trapping the little buggers. On my own part I try to play with the child a little and gain thier trust. Its easierto examine a child and make a diagnosis when they are not screaming the office down in sheer terror.

So i called this six year old girl and she began to panic. So i asked her about her rashes. I showed her the scar on my right hand to and scratched it vigorously, getting her to realise i knew what she was suffering. Finally she helped me scratch my rash and allowed me to examine her. During the few seconds I used to gain her trust her dad watched me like a hawk.

"Doctor should we hold her down?" he finally asked.

"No, no, just be patient please." I encouraged. The mother said nothing and watched from afar off.

I finally got her to show me her rashes and even to pull her dress which she did willingly.

her body was covered with the stuff. They looked like abrasion marks, the kind of thing you see when you scrape your knee on cement floor. She winced when i touched them but did not cry. At the end of my examination I took a sweet from a corner of my desk that i kept handy for such occasions and looking at the father first for approval, gave it to her. She smiled sweetly in thanks and proceeded to open the wrapper noisily.

"Do you have any other children sir?" I asked. he shook his head, no.

"Do any of the other kids in the compound have the same rashes?"

Another no.

"What kind of water do you use?"

"Pipe bourne water from overhead tank." the mustached father replied brusquely.

"And this rash has been there for three years?"

"Yes sir." he replied.

I sat back and pondered. I had seen these rashes before somewhere, I just couldn't bring it to mind just yet. I looked at the parent's skin. They were hard and brittle-looking, but then they were honest hardworking folk, i wasn't expecting their skin to be soft...

And then it hit me.

"Excuse me, what kind of soap is this girl bathing with?"

"Cutting-cutting soap." The man replied.

"Which one is cutting-cutting..."

"Soda sir. We use soda to baff her..."

"WHAAAAAAT?" I shouted. "Why would you do that? why would you bathe a small child like this with soda soap?"

"But, I bathe with it and it does nothing to me. Even my wife bathes with it...Its very affordable. We started bathing baby with it three years ago..."

It's been a long long time since I've been here.

It's been a long long time since I have been anywhere.

By anywhere I mean anywhere inside my head.

The outside world has kept me too busy

So busy i didn't notice my shadow had upped and left for a few days.

So busy I forgot to eat or sleep or breathe...no, I'm rambling now.

I need a pause button.

Better yet I need to breathe.

The Buhari/Johnathan saga season one is over...

Season two loading, coming out May 29, limited editions only.

The governors tremble and honorable men suddenly to return money they once lost in their pockets.

The south africans court war and religious fanatics scream for blood

And I hear a bell, it should be a trumpet but it is a bell

A bell sounding, a herald, coming.

Its been two days, day three is dawning.

Are you ready for the awakening?

[size=4pt](sometimes, I make absolutely no sense...or do I?)[/size]

nellyme:
For my nairaland family
Audreytimms
Esixlove
Repogirl
HumbledbYGrace
Larrysun
Dyoungstar (YET)
Royver

The joy, care, advice, believes in me, just like the love of my family. Tnx to u guys.

Awww, thanks nelly

Dear readers its a weekly show and will be officially opened on Sunday the 19th day of April 2015.

One love

aboyaji:
Royver is there to represent us. Just have a little faith

hmn! Thanks for having faith in me.

ADOPTED

“Next patient,” I yelled out as I stretched my cramped legs under the table to get some relief. I had seen quite a number of patients today and was beginning to get tired.


A middle aged woman in an attractive English-styled native attire walked in carrying a beautiful light skinned baby girl in her bosom. A cloud of expensive perfume followed her and in an instant my stuffy room was transformed into the sweet smelling nectar of spring. I sighed deeply, pleased already by this stranger who was about to pour out all her troubles to me. In as much as we are trained as doctors to ignore smells, mode of dressing and language issues of patients, it doesn’t hurt at all as a patient to appear in your very best. I guessed her age at late 30s, early 40s and even though the age of time was etched in secret places on her pleasant face, it was obvious she was taking very good care of herself.


“What can I do for you ma’m?” I asked genially.


She smiled a little shyly and gestured at the infant who was looking up at us with wide and curious eyes.


“She has been vomiting and ing watery stool since yesterday.”


“Ah, already?” I frowned, “Aren’t you doing exclusive breast feeding?”


“Er, no.” she replied, looking a bit guilty.


“That’s the problem right there!” I began. “If you were breastfeeding this baby exclusively, she wouldn’t be exposed to germs from the water you use and she wouldn’t be having diarrhea now…”


She interrupted me abruptly, “Doctor, she’s not my child.”


I froze. It was like someone pressed the pause button on me. All my gesticulations, the mock frown on my face, the words that were still tumbling out of my mouth, everything came to a standstill.


“ She’s not your child?” I echoed like they do in those nollywood movies I like so much.


“She’s not my child.” The woman repeated with a gentle laugh. “I adopted her from the abandoned baby’s home near the market. Isn’t she lovely?”


“Yes she is, I mean she even resembles you!”I replied, still amazed that she could open up to me like this. It had crossed my mind that she was a bit matured to be having a child but it wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence so I had shelved the thought. Most ladies would hide the fact that they had adopted a child even though we had a tendency to find out sooner or later. Not this woman. She looked at the babe with such tenderness and love in her eyes that I found myself smiling sheepishly.


“I would like to run a full health check on her, doctor.” she continued. “We are travelling to Lagos before the election then from there I’m taking her to the United States…”


“You’ll need a visa for the baby you know,” I replied, to which she happily pulled out some documents for me from her handbag. Her joy was infectious.


“My husband works in immigrations and has a few s so it was relatively easy.”


I studied the documents. They were all legit.


“So…you have no kids of your own then?” I asked quietly. “I hope I’m not prying too much…”


“It’s okay doc,” she smiled and took a moment to tear her gaze away from the baby long enough to answer me. “I married late and then found out I couldn’t conceive. The gynaecologist said I have blocked tubes. While trying to work on that my menses came. We decided it would be best to adopt.”


“Oh, I see.” I replied a little awkwardly, but she laughed and turned back to the baby.


“Just think, someone didn’t want this bundle of joy and I’ve been looking for one all these years…she’s mine doc, all mine!”


I smiled as I looked upon her happy face. She was gazing at the child adoringly while the little baby simply gazed upwards and gurgled back in return. I soliloquized within myself as I stared curiously through the acquisition documents and began writing some laboratory tests and drug prescriptions; here was a baby whose destiny seemed uncertain at first, but who had by that same chance of fate had a silver spoon thrust into her mouth where not even a wooden one was before. Where nature’s biological mother had abandoned her, fate had provided her with someone who worshipped, adored and cherished her for everything she was and everything she was going to be.




The sky would be her limit.

firestar:


Jiraiya the Third.

.....

Meanwhile....
Crystal piece.

You just made the medical profession as delectable as mine. Blood, guts, nausea...
Loved all of it.

Centje! Come o! Rovyer can make blood seem like ketchup, guts as assorted candied peel and vomit as my favourite bowl of oats!



[ Eats a sandwich and wonders what it resembles...]

Ewwwwww

LarrySun:
It's been a while, sir.

oi larry, how you been?

theorbiters:
Cc.
Jennimma (our very own, the Incumbent Miss Nairaland)
Royver (our doctor that loves so much blood)
Stuff46 ( a fellow pen comrade)

You need to check this story.

larrysun's protege
Interesting piece

#following

rapmike:
Wow, is that it? That is so wonderful that I can't find the word to describe it.


Errm, Royver can you mentor me, please? Abeg, ejo, please. But at least help me give your comments and criticism on my ongoing story: Tade- the rise of an activist.

ok send me the link lemme have a look

adonisgold:
Oh, so this is the popular Royver? Nice story, I saw a thread someone was praising you literary prowess now I understand. You mixed up the gloves scene sha, he had already taken off his gloves to address the lady which is why the lady accuses him of suturing with gloves and wouldn't let him put it back on, but later on Dr. Idowu tells him to take off his gloves.

Thanks, there was no mixup, took off a glove from the left hand to address the lady, lady insisted i sutured without gloves, tried to put the gloves back on, lady refused. I use the plural 'gloves' because we wear two gloves on each hand for protection, it is called 'double-gloving'. Dr idowu comes in and tells me to take off the other gloves (for a doc that means the work is over) and come with him.

Thanks folks. Its good to be back

Nelly21:
I always love your stories and this one is no exception

thanks dear

SexySapphire:
If it isn't Royver, who else could it be? I'm guessing you're the one in the story and if you love blood and gore this much, why haven't you written something horror? Anyway, welcome back and thanks for saving lives ionately.

thank you miss
horror? hmn, I'm no longer a fan of horror stories o, long story.

Sugarbabekemi:
Ure really one of a kind!! Seeing ur moniker gives me dis happy feeling of readin something interesting, kudos!!!

aw, thanks dearie.

lenmafon:
nice one coming from the boss himself @ royver gud to see u again sire, pls afta seeing blood and sewing up wounds do u still eat red meat? well gud to know u find satisfaction in what u do. how's work?

I even eat eba and egusi soup sef, talk less of red meat

Jennimma:
It could only be Royver.


Very funny tho.

You love A&R? Wow!!!

I don't know why but blood and gore excites me...are you scared?

SagePerv:
It's Roooooyver!

Definitely following.
I need an inspiration to start writing again.

Pervy sage

toykathy:
ftc, dancing shoki. Lemme go n red d story