TAKEN

[17]

Day after day, I waited for Mama or any of her gang to show up, yet nothing.
Since the night Dozie was arrested, there hadn't been any action from them. It was very worrisome that they would go off the radar just like that.

At times, I'd be up all night, afraid of even a pin drop. Hopelessly terrified that I would be snatched off the hospital bed.

Even with Nurse Dima by my side, the trauma of several months wouldn't let me keep my eyes closed and when I did, it was with a reminder that Mama was still somewhere waiting.

People and things scared me shitless. Every male in overall black looked like Dozie and any old woman sure looked like Mama to me. I couldn't bring myself to leave the hospital room for fear of being taken right outside the door.

Regardless of the number of times, Nurse Dima reassured me of protection within the walls of the Federal Medical Center Owerri, I still had my doubts. I couldn't believe I could hide away from them even when I was sure they knew where I was.

Come to think of it, What would it take Mama and her cohorts to bribe any medical personnel to steal me out of this place? She'd kidnapped people from very secure places, how much more than a hospital.

Incessantly, Police officers roamed the halls of this ward like ants, giving off the feel of tight security.

It was the Abuse and violence victims ward. Almost every patient on this floor, in this building, had been through some kind of domestic and physical abuse and violence.

Each morning, a police officer would walk into my room and say a timid hello, converse with me for like a minute to get more information regarding my case, and then leave.

There was no doubt they were meticulously doing their job, but I wasn't buying it. I would never believe the honesty and competency of the Nigerian police. When I knew that most of them were Mama clients.

If Mama could have sick perverts buy her girls for thousands of dollars in a country where a common man survived on less than one dollar a day, then, permit me to say she had strong connections in high places.

As religious as Nigerian was, many people had the sickness of perversion running through their veins and they would pay anything to feed their addiction. And worse still, to keep it a secret.

I never let my guard down. Vigilance was my watchword, I didn't want to be caught unaware again. 

People's reactions and actions had a separate data space in my head where I analyzed every action. Their facial expressions and body language were like a clock, ticking away their unspoken words towards me.

I heard what they didn't want me to hear and read what they tried to hide. My surroundings were of uttermost importance to me. I would sit by the window watching, waiting for whatever may come my way.

Nurse Dima was relaxed on the couch opposite me reading a novel. 'Things Fall Apart' by Chinua Achebe, is a legendary writer.

I read that book in secondary school and when I saw her with it, I harvested it off her hand and read it again in twenty-four hours.

Sleep was no longer a luxury, I couldn't afford it because it came with the high price of insomnia. So, I occupied my mind with books that Nurse Dima supplied daily.

She sat there drowned in that book, her eyes moving in quick succession. I could tell she was enjoying it just like I did. She was wearing a plain white polo top and black jeans.
Daily, at the end of her shift, she would sit in my room, keeping me company and studying for some foreign exam.

My gaze had been on her for five minutes, but she'd not been able to tear her eyes off the book to even acknowledge me.

"I see you watching me, again." She spared me a glance, lifting an eyebrow.