Let me not bore you with all the dreams i had on my way to Ibadan, according to my mum, it took forever to get there, we got there on emergency, i was taken to the theatre with immediate effect, at this time i was back to life, every sound was too loud for my eardrum to manage, i could hear a cockroach sneeze, my mum held my hand tight trying not to squeeze the one with the drip. I yearned for water but i couldn’t ask, something dropped from one of the trays and it was as loud as the described triumph of the last day. I opened my long closed eyes and screamed. Alarming everyone on the corridor, fighting away from the bed, falling of the stretcher and hitting the ground, making the drop-sound like that of a cement bag, the nurses came rushing with Dr Olu. He picked me up pressing my head against his chest, telling me it will be alright, he kissed me on the fore head and asked what i wanted, i felt so much relieved than i had felt in the last one week.

I looked at my mum, she was black, sore and sad, her eyes were dry (obviously, struggling to hold back tears) i tried to stand on my feet but i couldn’t, she helped Dr Olu lift me up to the stretcher, he sat by me telling me what i went through was rape and how i’ll be well taking care of. I had TBI- Traumatic Brain Injury. He explained that i need to be away from too much noise or light and i have to be within the hospital till my stitches heal, he also added that i had minor STI which are not from the rape because they are not new. He requested me to tell him few things about my sex life but i shook my head disagreeing because my mum was present, she smiled at me saying she understands. Because i had difficulty speaking, i wrote them down.

Days after days, Doctor Olu was my guide, he would feed me and tell me stories of different patients, encourage me to forgive myself as i kept blaming myself, meanwhile Joshua was nowhere to be found, and the news of my rape was in every newspaper, my school mates and everyone who knew me dropped comments and sent letters. Good thing my phone was missing but i miss my friends, i would stroll round the clinic to exercise and console myself.

One saturday evening, i was walking pass the dialysis and chemo unit, i saw this young man. He was staring at me i almost ran but couldn’t because my thigh was still healing, i thought he was irritated at my hair,look, ugly face and my weird way of walking. I tried to look away but i couldn’t, he was right opposite me. Just as i approached, he bent over an aged woman and whispered something to her, she smiled and waved at me. I managed to smile back as i turned right just to go through another exit, this guy walked up to me. He greeted me and held my hand as i shivered away from him, his palm was too cold and sweaty. I tried walking away as fast as i could but he caught up with me. I’m i scaring you? So he asked, i said No but i need go. He asked what i was there for, Dialysis or chemo? I replied none. I’m an in-patient here, i have been here for 4weeks hoping to go home by weekend, i walk pass this corridor to console myself. He smiled, that’s a very good self-therapy, meet my Grandmother, she’s here for check up her husband is here for Dialysis, he’s in with the doctors.

He walked me back to my room, asking me what my ailment was. I told him straight away, I’m a rape victim and the doctors think I’m traumatised so they keeping me here. I have my final tests in 2days then i can go home. Where is home sick girl? I looked up to him, I’m not sick (with a straight face). He immediately apologised saying he meant to be humorous. I told him to go that i needed to be alone, his voice was beginning to irritate me. He begged to know my name but i asked him to leave. My name is Aman, he said as he walked away. His face brought tears to my eyes, the word “humorous” reminded me of Josh. I cried all over again till i slept off.

The next day, Dr Olu tried helping me with my physiotherapy, my knee and shoulder still had bandages. He joked around Aman’s case saying he knows him well and that he donates to the hospital, he couldn’t have meant any harm. At the time, my mum walked in, she claims she hadn’t seen me smile in the past 5weeks and that whatever we were talking about must be good , I just smiled. Dr Olu knew i had reservations and knew i had thoughts about Joshua. The truth is, i am more worried about him being alright than missing him. I am angry that he hasn’t called. I had long forgiven my rapist and all the people spreading wrong stories about my case. But why haven’t Joshua called or email me. Everything changed except my email. He has no excuse. As much as i tried to forget him, a part of me holds on to him.
My final day at Ibadan Teaching hospital soon came, i woke up fresh and happy, ready to go home and start a new life, my mum had earlier told me i was going to lagos, i couldn’t wait to meet my new neighbours and make new friends, most importantly i was overjoyed knowing i won’t have to answer questions about my rape. Getting to Dr Olu’s office in company of a matron, i met my aunt(the one i’ll be staying with in lagos), her husband, a nurse and two other Doctors. I knew something was wrong, i looked around for my mum but she was nowhere to be found, the thought of not seeing her since i woke up came alive in my mind, i tried to erase every bad thought crossing my mind. As Dr Olu spoke, Aisha…

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