What a Next of Kin!

Chapter Nine

39 Chapter Nine M eanwhile, the matron and Ndi had been playing a cat and mouse game. For about a week, she skipped his room and only assigned nurses to talk to him and help him in case he needed help. That isolation unnerved Ndi. He had wanted a wheelchair and a hospitalhand to help push him around. He had agreed on putting the fellow on a stipend. The only person who could provide that facility was the matron. Now she was avoiding him. One day, the day matron Caro’s father was being discharged; he heard the matron gleefully chatting with the nurses who were helping in the discharge exercise. At some time, there was a lull in the conversation. Ndi made a desperate call to draw attention. The nurses and the matron rushed into his room to attend to him. Ndi feigned excruciating pains in the small of the back and groaned. “What’s wrong Mr. Ndi?” the matron asked with concern. “My back is disintegrating. I feel agonizing pains in the small of my back because I am permanently lying on my back.” “Do you want to lie on your stomach? The nurses told me they make you lie halfway sideways these days. That is the normal progression. If you complain of sharp pains the doctor may want you X-rayed and if the discs are not holding, you may be subjected to another operation. I will bring him in tomorrow?” “No, my problem is this misery, this isolation. Matron, you promised me a wheelchair. I am bored to the bone in this room. I hear my neighbour being discharged. My loneliness will now be more than doubled.” 40 Charles Alobwed’Epie “Then say you want a wheelchair and don’t pretend you have excruciating pains,” the matron said half shouting. Then she called one of the male nurses and asked him to call Mula Kingue, one of the yard-boys, (cleaner) to bring a wheelchair. Presently, two nurses helped Ndi into the wheelchair and Mula started pushing him around the corridors of the SSW. “This is the first time I have stepped out of this room in seven weeks. The seven weeks seem seven years. How beautiful it is to see the wide blue sky once more!” Ndi started a conversation. “Seven weeks is small. Some people with back problems, especially those operated spend months lying on their backs. The matron has great respect for you. You might have worked magic on her. She hardly accepts that patients with waist casts be helped into wheelchairs. You are special, and I believe she has seen that you are progressing well. That is why she has allowed you onto a wheelchair,” the boy remarked. “How many times a week did you arrange with her to wheel me around?” “She said I should ask you. It depends on you. I work from seven thirty in the morning to two o’clock in the afternoon. From then, I am free till seven in the evening. If you like me to wheel you around everyday, I shall do it.” “It is punishing remaining in the ward doing nothing, receiving no medicines and having nobody to talk to. I would like you to wheel me around everyday.” “OK, I shall do it from two thirty to six.” “That’s OK for me. You know your stipend. You want an advance?” “No, it would be more useful at the end of the month,” the boy concluded, made a few more rounds and wheeled back Ndi to his ward. 41 What a Next of Kin! Ndi was excited and thankful to the matron and Mula. That night he had a quiet smooth sleep. In the morning he got up fresh and hopeful, praying to have Mula wheel him around again that afternoon; and if possible as far as to the main road. As expected, Mula was punctual and very soon he was wheeling Ndi around. “Any news?” Ndi started the conversation. “I just need any news. I am virtually empty and bored to the bone.” “There is no news apart from the stale news of the fight for inheritance. The patient in room 3 of your building was nearly killed two days ago by the children of Mr. Minyoli. Apart from that, there is no news.” “What happened?” “It seems as if the Minyoli family is arguing that the man does not...