Facade (Romola 1)

25: Hospital on Strike

“A hospital is no place to be sick."
-Samuel Goldwyn

"Help!" Olumide screamed, racing into the small crowded room. Romola had gone still in his hands but her body still burnt. Her pupils could not be found on the white canvas of her eyes.

"Mister, why are you screaming?" A fair skinned nurse, standing behind the wooden desk, belted at him.

"She needs help. She was convulsing," he explained. His eyes fell to the table which held a long hardback note, a blue pen and some yellow cards.

"What happened to her?" Another nurse joined the first one at the desk. This one, a plump dark nurse, had her thick hair plaited high in a suku plait.

"She took some drugs."

"Which one?"

"I don't know. I found her like this. I think she took ecstasy."

"Which one is ecstasy?" The fair skinned nurse kept her hands akimbo.

"Drug. Hard drugs." He barked.

Seconds were rolling by and Romola could be dying as they spoke. She drew a ragged breath on his arms and fear gave way to anger.

"These children these days. They'll just take anything to get high." The nurse said. "During our days, it was nothing like this."

"Well, it's not your day today. She needs help now."

"No respect sef." The darker nurse glared at him. Right before his eyes, the fair skinned nurse brought out a purple foam food pack. She opened it and stuck a silver fork in the plate of rice and mixed it with the beans and stew.

"Excuse me," Olumide yelled. "She is dying and you are eating. How inhumane can you get?"

"Mister what do you want me to do?"

"Admit her! Take her to the emergency room." Olumide couldn't believe that he had to tell the nurses how to do their jobs.

"Just look around. Look at all these people." The nurse used her fork to point at the other people who were either standing or sitting in the room.

Some of them sat on the floor, squeezing their body to the walls to make room for others.  Olumide's gaze swept over the other people. Most of them were sick, or groaning with pain. Some of them watched him with pallid faces. Others couldn't spare him a glance because they lay on the raffia mat with their eyes closed.

A man sat on the floor, blood flowing from the huge gash on his head, as he moaned. The bandage around his head was heavy with blood. A pregnant woman burst into cries, adding a solo to the chorus of pain in the room. Disgust fueled his irritation.

"Why are they like this?"

"There is no room to admit them and they will stay this way until someone dies or leaves the hospital." The fair skinned nurse stated. 

"Okay." Olumide's tone dropped. "She doesn't have to stay here. She can see the  doctor. Then I'll take her to another hospital as soon as she is stable."

Both nurses exploded in a raucous laugher. He did not get the joke. The fair skinned nurse stopped laughing first. "It's like you are not in this country. Don't you know that the doctors are on strike?"

"Can't you do something? You're a nurse." Desperation made his voice crack.

"I can't do anything without the doctors orders. I was told to only attend to patients that have been admitted." The nurses voice rattled his nerves, much more than the smell of cheap antiseptic and the illness that mingled in the atmosphere. Somebody coughed in the background. "As you can see, this facility is booked to its capacity."

"Can't you do something for her? Please. I'll give you money. As much as you want." Bribing wasn't something he liked, but if he had to save Romola from following Muyi to the grave, he would have to set his values aside.

"See. I can't do anything. I don't know what is wrong with her. The lab technician has gone on his personal strike. The pharmacist too, only God knows where she is. How am I supposed to treat her? Look at all these people. See that man bleeding there. He was involved in an Okada accident.

"If I did not attend to him for the 2 hours he has been here, is it because I like to see people suffer? I don't. Is it my fault that the hospital is not big enough or we're not paid well enough? Abeg mister, don't disturb me. The best thing I can do is refer you to another hospital with a card and a letter."

"Do that. I'm fine with anything you do."

The black skinned nurse scoffed. "I'm not even sure there is anything you can do. She looks dead."

"She's not dead! Just give me the letter. I'll be on my way."

"I'm on my lunch break. After eating, I'll attend to you." The light skinned nurse took a forkful of her food.

"How convenient." Olumide walked away from the counter, pressing Romola to his chest. The nurses words scarred him. She could not be dead. He could not be holding a dead body to his chest. "This is a waste of time. You're both useless."

"Mister," The dark skinned nurse gave him a pointed look. "With your fine wristwatch, suede shoe and shirt, you could not stop your friend from taking drugs. Now the doctors are on strike and your money cannot save her. You know, sometimes, I think the problem with Nigeria is not that some people aren't paid well. It is that some people have too much money."

Olumide ignored her bitter words as he marched out of the hospital. He raced to his car and laid Romola in the back seat.  He jumped into his seat, picked his phone and searched for the nearest hospital. A call came in immediately.

Dami's number flashed on the screen. Olumide placed the phone on his ears.

"Where are you? I've been waiting for your call since. How's Yetunde?"

"I don't care how your stupid sister is doing?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I entered the flat. Romola was convulsing. Yetunde was high and she was just staring at Romola. I tried to take Romola to the hospital but the doctors are on strike. I don't know what to do. She's not moving anymore. Man, I'm scared."

"Call Vicky now."