Deola stepped away for a few minutes to make a call…she told Sister Grace she wanted to talk to her uncle. After the call, she drove us to the hospital, talked to the doctor for a while and wrote a cheque/check for the full amount. The doctor was skeptical about taking a cheque/check so Deola made another call and had the doctor talk to whoever was on the other side. The way the doctor kept saying “yes sir, ok sir” was enough to suggest he was talking to an influential person.
That was how my mum’s treatment commenced in earnest. The moment the surgeon they were waiting for showed up, they took care of the Cholecystectomy first which took about 3 hours and from there, my mum was moved to the ICU.
I didn’t know how to thank Deola, I wasn’t sure if she loaned us the money or gave us. Sister Grace could not hide her tears…a mix of joy, fear, confusion and gratitude.
We stayed there all day and by evening, my mum came round…she was so happy to see me.
She thanked Deola copiously and showered prayers on her; one of my brothers that was around kept looking at Deola like she was from another world. I could tell what was going on in his mind.
“This small girl?
One hundred and fifty thousand Naira?
Just like that?
Money that 3 hardworking adults could not raise…God dey o”
I decided to stay and return to school on Monday…Deola said it was a good idea but she had to leave for school.
Before she left, she took me in her car and we went to a supermarket close by to get things for my mum. She bought milk, beverages, blood tonic, fruits and all those things you would take to someone recuperating at the hospital. She also gave me a thousand Naira (in case I needed anything) and advised me to come back to school early so we could figure out how to resolve the issue that originally brought us to see my family.
I didn’t know how to thank her so I hugged her tight…without using words, I tried to express my gratitude to her for being such a good friend and for showing kindness to my family.
“What are friends for?
I know all you’ve told me about your mum and everything she’s been through.
I saw the deep pain on Sister Grace’s face and what mama’s death would mean to every one of you.
I had to step in, so I called my “Uncle”. He was on board and gave me the go ahead
It was the least I could do.
Money is useless if we can’t use it to help save lives” was Deola’s response
She dropped me at the hospital but this time she didn’t come inside, she said she didn’t want my mum to start thanking her again.
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