OIL MONEY |A Nigerian Romance|

Chapter 11.

TOBI

When I received the call of mom being admitted in the hospital, the first person I thought to contact was her loyalist. Why? It's simple; she's the only person I am sure would not give any excuse. And she's here right now with her friends. If it was a different situation, I would have laughed when one of them mistakenly called her Oil money while pointing at me.

"Hi." She's panting like she ran here.

"Hey. Thanks for coming." I say to her.

"What happened?" She asks.

"I just got here also. They are at one of the VIP wards."

"Alright. Let's go." I raise my eyebrows, motioning to the ladies behind her.

"Sorry. My roommates; Bukky and Tamara."

"Okay." I state, gently pulling her away from them. I excuse myself as we walk slightly apart from them.

"They can't go in with us."

"Alright." It's surprising that she did not object to it.

"They came here because I told them to, though." I guess I spoke too fast.

"Do you want to stay here with them?" She rolls her eyes and eye me. This whole back and forth is not needed right now. Frustrated, I run my hands through my hair, repeatedly. This woman should be wiser than this.

"Let me have a word with them." She finally states. Watching them talk, I notice how they occasionally look at me and frown. What were they really expecting? They are not family and its not even all family that I can allow close to her in her sick state. Her friends make their way to the waiting area and sit there while she walks back to me.

"Let's go." Together, we walk to the VIP wards and locate the one she is admitted at. We are about to go into the ward when the door opens and a man who I assume is the doctor walks out.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bankole. I am Dr. Hamid." The Doctor greets.

"We are not married."

"She is not my wife." We both correct at the same time.

"Oh, sorry, sir, ma'am." He says with a smile. Farida rolls her eyes at him. Display of bad character as usual.

"Can we discuss better in my office?" He further adds.

"Alright." Hope all is well; that's my major concern right now. I feel a small hand squeeze mine and I look down to Farida who is looking at me reassuringly. She smiles a sad one in my direction and I immediately feel comfort. I don't know what she did but whatever it is, it worked because I relax. When we walk into the doctor's office, his countenance changes and my senses are immediately alert.

"Please, sit." He speaks.

"Sir, there is a problem. Your mother's health is deteriorating." We both exchange looks, confused.

"Deteriorating? I don't understand." To the best of my knowledge, she was in a good state of health. So, I really don't understand what he means by that.

"Deteriorating?" Farida also asks, as if mirroring my thoughts.

"She has Appendicitis." Like cold water, I feel a chill feeling run down my spine.

"What?"

"It's at a very critical stage now."

"Has it been long since she has been diagnosed?" I ask.

"Yes. I told her to inform her family." I wonder why she kept it to herself and most importantly why she did not opt for surgery when she discovered it.