High Drama on the way to Lagos

One day in our house, I was the only one left that hadn’t yet gone to work. Suddenly I heard my pregnant neighbor scream and shout out my name.

So I went across to her room. She whispered that I should come near. As soon as I got close enough, the speed and force with which she grabbed my hold of my leg almost swept me off my feet.

And holding on to my leg, with one huge push the baby came out.

As I hadn’t had a baby before, I guess the shock was what made me take off. I ran out of the house and went past the machanic shed and didn’t stop till I had reached the other end of the street.

Then sanity set in and I wondered what I was running away from.

Then I took off running back to the house (shouting to the mechanics as I passed that it’s iya ibeji who is in trouble) I got back to her and she instructed me to get some water and sprinkle it on the baby.

The mechanics soon joined us and the placenta came out.

We decided to look for a nurse and one of the mechanics stepped out of the house. Fortunately he caught sight of a lady in a nurse’s uniform returning from work and he just grabbed her without any explanation and dragged her to the house. The poor lady must have been frightened out of her mind.

Well, that’s the first time I witnessed a delivery.

(That was one of the passengers on the bus narrating a story that came about as a result of a pregnant lady on the same bus that seems to be going into labour.) 

It usually starts with the little Chadean boys singing in Yoruba at the petrol station next to the bus park. They are singing some sort of “Fuji” which sounds quite good but you can’t help smiling at the fact that even though their Yoruba is very good, the song is still coming from a light-skinned urchin with curly hair.

Followed by the mobile preacher that prays all the way to the toll gate before getting off the bus.

The mobile drug seller then takes up the mantle of keeping the passengers entertained with the hope that some of them will take the bait and buy some of the drugs he is peddling.

Unfortunately for the one on the bus this time, there was a lady on the bus who appeared to be going into labour.

That was when the screaming started with multiple suggestions on what to do next. Stop; go; stop at next major road juncture. Keep going (husband). Later she said she wanted something to eat but no one had anything she wanted.

Well we stopped at the next town and almost all 30 people in the bus joined in the chorus to call the food peddlers and buy the gala and a bottle of lacasera.

We were soon on our way again.

Another 20minutes or so and an alarm was raised that she was about to give birth to the baby which prompted another round of shouting on what was to be done.

The lady next to me spied an “accident and emergency clinic” signpost on the other side of the express and people were soon yelling for the driver to pull over.

It was then decided to go on as the lady can’t possibly walk across the expressway and she can’t get on a bike either.

Well, we finally stopped at the Redeemed camp.

I think she threw up after eating the food and possibly her water broke? Because the conductor (driver’s assistant) had to scoop up some sand from outside to pour on the vomit.

She had to be carried across the (expressway’s) divide.

Fortunately, there was a peugeuot car by the road in front of the camp. They (husband, pregnant wife and small child) were soon being whisked at great speed into the camp.

We were at Mowe or so when the talk started about an Okada rider who died some days back. It was said that it rained on the day and that a ligthening bolt killed him. The driver said an eye witness told him and he was supported by others in the bus who had either heard the same thing or seen the body. He said the body, his possessions and his bike were by the road side with no one bold enough to go near him.

The conjecture ranged from his stealing the bike to his being cursed with the lightening that killed him.

Another explanation put forward is that he may have made a covenant with the god of thunder (Sango) and not fufilled it in time. Or his parents may have petitioned Sango for the man (when they had problems conceiving) and they didn’t fulfil their pledge.

Below is the audio of the earlier part of the journey (the “prayer session”).
Prayer Part 1
Prayer Part 2

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One Response to High Drama on the way to Lagos

  1. Idileke says:

    What a day.
    I tot you took a delivery at first.
    You scared me.
    In the year 2000, I helped a Nurse who was a friend then to take a delivery.
    The lady had to be cut for the baby’s head to pass
    I was holding the needle for stitches. My body filled with blood. Thanks to God, HIV was not that popular that time in the village.
    I promised not to give birth when I saw the whole pain and drama.
    The unfortunate little baby didnt have a father then. I don’t know about it now which made the lady’s issues more painful.
    Then, the baby refused to cry while my friend gave the baby a big slap. I screamed.
    The body of a newly born baby is somehow. Hmmmmmm.
    But I wish to have five children now if God permits and if husband agrees too.
    Children are not a must but in Africa, it is very important.

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