Senator Alfred Nnamani paced up and down the vast hospital corridor; wrinkling his nose as hospital odor caressed his face. He hates waiting in as much as he hates hospitals, the smell of drugs and the injection needles. His reason for this apathy was as a result of a fatal bicycle accident at childhood that nearly caused his leg to be amputated, and which had forced him to spend a grueling four weeks at the orthopedic hospital. And ever since then, he vowed to keep away from hospitals. He did until now.
He looked at his wristwatch again and sighed, wondering why time crawls when one is waiting, but flies when having fun. It seemed he has been here for years instead of a few hours.
He had canceled his scheduled business trip to France at the last minute when his wife, Doris, suddenly went into labor. He wanted to be there when his son and the heir to his multi-million naira empire arrived. He wouldn't like to be known as the only father in the whole country who missed the birth of his child. Besides, he wanted to be the first, apart from the doctors and nurses, to see the new 'Prince.'
Once again, he began to muse on what he was going to do with the heir to his vast empire, and his face glowed with satisfaction. He will send him to the best schools and universities in the world and bring him up to value his name and education and teach him how to play chess and drive cars! He will also take him to all the fun places in the world and create an enabling environment to enable him to flourish. There were so many things they could do together.
He has finally arrived!
He cast another instinctive look at his timepiece, shaking his head worriedly. They'd stayed in there much too long, he thought - two hours to be precise. He wished she had not developed complications. He is usually a total stark-raving worrier lunatic, always jumping to ten possible conclusions why things could go wrong with everything and anything.
He was worried and scared about birth defects, abnormalities -those kinds of things. He was scared the baby might come out with four eyes or one eye, one leg or no hand at all and stuffs like that. He was nervous and worried too. He was worried that the doctor may not succeed in tying her tubes without her. He must understand how he feels about his desire to have only one boy and must succeed because if he doesn't, there's the likelihood that his wife may deliberately get pregnant again. He knew that his story of a small family one child policy had not gone down well with her. She is the type that cherishes a large family.
Unable to take the thoughts any longer, he strolled towards the garden. For some minutes, he wandered around the well-watered hospital garden with its exotic and beautifully trimmed luscious green leaves and flowers. He admired the beauty of the garden and the collection of bougainvillea and Ixora along the path. Bending down; he plucked off one of the flowers. But just as he was about to hold it up to his nose, he heard footfalls coming towards him and someone calling his name. Turning, he saw Dr. Philip in his traditional lab coat and a stethoscope hanging down his neck coming towards him. A wide smile covered his black, fat face and his small, pig eyes were animated. Immediately, he felt a beat of pure bliss, without being told, he knew he had made it.
"Congratulations, Chief," the doctor said as he thrust his hand out for a handshake. Chief Nnamani grabbed it and shook him warmly. "This is the best news I've heard in years. How is he?"
"Splendid, beautiful … like an angel," the doctor replied.
"Good, you have done a marvelous job, doctor."
"I'm glad you are pleased."
"That reminds me, did you tie her tubes?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Of course," the doctor said. "I thought it was the first thing you were going to ask. "Oh, good," Chief laughed. Lowering his voice, he asked, "I hope she is not aware that you did it?"
The doctor nodded. "That's a piece of cake. Besides, instead of giving her an epidural, I gave her a Demerol. It is her first time and she hardly knows the difference between the two." "Thanks for a job well done, Doc," he said. "I'll double your pay."
The doctor bowed. "That will be very kind, Chief, thanks."
He looked at his wristwatch. "Can I see them now?"
"No, not yet. Give them a couple of minutes."
"Okay. No problem."
The doctor looked at his timepiece. "If there's nothing else, I think I'll run along, chief and thanks again for the raise."
The moment the doctor left, he jerked out his cell phone and keyed in some numbers. "Hello Senator, guess what?" he asked eagerly as soon as the Senator's voice came over the line. "You're having dinner with the French president this evening?"
"More than that, my friend, my wife has made me proud. My heir is here. My boy has finally arrived."
"Oh! That's great, Chief. May I offer my congratulations?"
As soon as the call ended, he dialed another number. "Hello Alhaji, how's it going?" he asked as soon as the lines connected.
"Oh, Chief, the Omereoha 1 himself! I'm doing well." Alhaji Usman replied. He likes calling chief by his Igbo title despite his inability to pronounce the word correctly. "How come you're still here? I thought you should be in France by now."
"You are right, Alhaji. I should have been but something important cropped up."
Alhaji Usman was slightly taken aback. He knows Chief as a man who never misses an opportunity to make money and being here means something really important must have cropped up. "Something important? Tell me, what could that be?"Alhaji Usman asked in strong Hausa accent. Despite his academic qualifications and exposure, he still retains a strong Hausa accent which was not befitting for a man in his class.
"My wife has just put to bed," he blurted out excitedly. "My heir is here and I'm calling from the hospital."
"Oh, that's great! Congratulations, Chief."
"Thank you."
"Okay, my friend. Got to go."
"Just a minute," Alhaji Usman stopped him. "It's a boy? I know it is. You can't shoot amiss."
"Yeah, I think so. The scan said so, though I haven't seen him myself, but I have no reason to believe otherwise."
"Okay Chief. Mention me well to mother and child, bye."
Hastily, like one in a trance, he dialed another set of numbers and held the cell phone close to his ear. "Hello Engineer," Chief said as soon as he heard the Engineer's voice across the line.
"Oh Chief," the Engineer's voice rang across the line. "Why, what are you still doing here? You should be on your way out of the country by now. How come you're still here? I hope some babes haven't trapped you down?"
"No, no, no, no, Engineer," Chief laughed loudly. "Mba nu, you should have known your friend better than that by now. Things on skirts don't really bother me. Something more important cropped up. I'm calling from the hospital."
"The hospital?" the Engineer's voice echoed back. He was curious and apprehensive. In fact, in the seven years or so he has known Chief; he has never heard him talk about hospitals. In fact, he knew he has a very strong apathy for hospitals. "Are...Are you sick or something? Is anyone...?"
"No, no, no, no. It's okay," he cut in. "My wife just put to bed."
"Oh, great! That's absolutely beautiful. Congratulations," The engineer said. "I know it is a boy, isn't it?"
"Sure. It definitely must be. I'm expecting a boy, although I haven't seen him myself, but the ultrasound said so. So it must be. I'll call off, bye."
He dialed another number. He was still at it when the nurse appeared silently behind him.
"Excuse me, sir, but...but you can see them now."
"Oh thanks, dear," Chief smiled softly at her. "You look beautiful."
The nurse blushed. "Thank you."
"So, what's the name?"
"Joy."
"Joy?" he repeated, smiling. "What a beautiful name for a nurse. I bet if I ever have a girl, I'll call her that." He was definitely in a happy mood and didn't know how close he was to the truth. He dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out his billfold, and selecting two five hundred naira notes, he pressed them into her unsuspecting hand. "Buy yourself coke with that."
The nurse's eyes widened when she saw the money. "Oh, thank you, sir. You're so kind."
"Don't bank on that," he laughed and left in search of the ward. When he got to the door, he paused briefly and pulled his wits together. For reasons he could not explain, he found he was nervous. The prospect of seeing his own son, his own flesh and blood, filled him with awe. Swallowing hard, he did the sign of the cross instinctively. He was sweating so he brought out his handkerchief and wiped his face. Opening the door gently, he peered in cautiously. He could see his wife lying face up in bed, staring at the ceiling. She seemed lost in thought. Then he shifted his gaze to the little cot by her bedside. Inside the little cot lies his son, he thought. His heart began to beat faster at the thought. Closing the door noiselessly as if he afraid to wake the baby and his mother, he tiptoed across the room like one walking on eggshells. His heart was beating fast and his palms were damp. For a long moment, he stood beside his wife and watched her passionately. As if she was aware that she was no longer alone in the room, she turned and their eyes met and held. He smiled softly and she smiled back weakly. A fire - fierce and passionate - burned in his eyes, a fire she has not seen before, and she knew he was totally at peace with himself. "You did it angel," he said, bending down slowly to give her a peck. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you."
"Thank you," she muttered weakly.
"Was it tough? You must have been through hell. Should I make you tea?" he bombarded her with questions, his eyes never leaving her face for a minute.
Doris' heart did a summersault. She could see the care oozing out of his eyes and the sense of satisfaction that his new status as a father bestowed on him. She felt a shiver run down her spine. She hates to deceive him, hates to think of the look on his face when he finds out that she lied to him about the baby's sex.
"Yes, it was, but … but I managed. Thanks."
He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "You know what?"
"What?"
"Next week, I'll take you and the prince to London for a one month holiday."
She shuddered inwardly and closed her eyes as she remembered how good and sweet he has been ever since he discovered she was pregnant, and she wished she could be pregnant forever. Not just being pregnant, but a male pregnancy. She bit her lips sadly and turned away as snippets of the coming events flashed through her mind.
Chief looked across the room slowly, his eyes finally resting on the baby sleeping on the cot. Hesitating, he asked. "Is...is that him? Is that my boy?"
She turned her face away as she said yes.
He walked closer to the cot and stood watching the baby for a moment, hardly believing the baby was his, and that he was now a father. For a long time, he stood there. He seemed to be memorizing the baby's features and every facet or was he searching for some familiar family marks? It was hard to say or guess exactly what was going on in his mind at that moment. Bending slightly, he reached down and lifted the covers and picked up both hands and examined them. Everything seemed to be in place, he nodded his satisfaction. Next, he checked the baby's legs and toes, satisfied there was no apparent birth defect, he pulled down the shawl to examine the rest of the body, but what he saw nearly gave him a heart attack. In fact, he felt like someone hit him in the solar plexus. He peered again more closely, frowning. Cautiously he rubbed his hand across his eyes as he peered again. There must be a mistake, he thought to himself. Something just doesn't seem right, he thought, looking across the room helplessly as he tried to make sense of it all, but he couldn't. He looked at the baby again, and then to his wife and back to the baby. He ran his tongue across his dry lips as he felt cold sweat broke down from his brows. Immediately, something snapped inside him and his eyes hardened. "Where is he?" he demanded in a slow, menacing voice. "It was a boy, wasn't it? The ultrasound said it was." He advanced slowly towards her, his steps cold and threatening. "Damn it!" he muttered. "Bullshit!" he cursed, punching his clenched right fist into his open palm. "Where is my boy? Come on, answer me or I'll…." he let the words hang. "Where is he? You two-timing bitch. You think you can lie to me or play games with me? Baby, you are finished. No one touches the lion's tail, whether dead or alive and I am a lion and if you push me to the wall, I will fight back." His eyes were blazing with rage and the vein in his temple were visible and pulsated violently as if it were about to burst. She could even feel raw anger ooze out of his body and for a moment, she thought he was going to harm her physically. "Don't tell me you connived with those lying, scheming doctors and lied to me. No, it can't be possible," he raged. "Do you know I can kill you? Do you know I can waste your life?"
Although she felt weak physically, but inwardly she felt a surge of power surge through her. She felt strong, stronger than she has ever felt in her entire life or could ever imagine. The desire to protect her child far outweighed any potential danger she might be in. His anger was gradually fuelling her courage. She was glad he could feel pain. It felt good to know he wasn't a superman, after all, and she was thankful she could have a go at him finally and she meant to cherish every bit of it. Why should she always be the one to suffer, to regret, to feel the pain? She felt so satisfied and couldn't care less about anything.
"Common, I'm waiting, where is my boy? Who did you sell him to and how much did they pay you? Eh, answer me before I strangle you," he screamed, jerking her up and shaking her violently. "Do you know I could kill you, bitch?"
"Let go of me, you bastard," she screamed as she tried to push him away with all the energy she could muster. "There she is. That's what you gave me and that's what I'm giving you back. If you don't want her, you take her and kill her yourself. She's all yours now, but you can't keep killing them in my womb any longer. My womb is not a graveyard."
"Don't feed me that crap. The ultrasound said it was a boy and you said so yourself, so where is he?"
"I don't know. I'm not God neither am I the scan or the doctors, so you'd better go ask them yourself. All I know is I gave you back what you gave me. It's not my fault if it's a boy or a girl. You are to blame."
"Don't you ever dare to talk to me like that or ...," he let the words hang.
"Or you do what? Fred, speak up. Let's hear you or you do what?" she challenged him. She was no longer afraid of him. She has unmasked him and she was ready to square it up with him once and for all. The desire to protect her child far supersedes any fear she might have entertained in the past. The fact that her child was now born and a living human being gave her some added courage. The sight of the baby was like an elixir.
"How dare you challenge me? How dare you talk back at me?" he barked, hardly recognizing his own voice. He wondered where she got her new found courage. It was unlike her and he thought he must be dreaming, a dream he was in a hurry to let come to an end.
"Who are you that I can't talk back at you? Look Fred, its time you get a straight talking to. Who do you think you are by the way? Do you know that you are nothing but a mentally deranged fool? You're so bloated because of your perceived academic brilliance and political acumen that you think you can walk over everybody, but that's a lie. You need to wake up. There is no mistake, I repeat, there is no mistake. It is deliberate."
He squinted. "Deliberate? What do you mean by that?"
"You see when I found out it was a baby girl on its way; I forged the papers and lied to you about the sex so I can keep the baby. I know you wouldn't hesitate to ask me again to murder her. Like I said before, there is no mistake; rather you are the one who is mistaken."
Chief opened and shut his mouth. "Me? Mistaken? How?"
"In the first place, why do you think biotechnology can solve all problems? Eh, why do you think you can play God and decide the sex or make of the unborn? If by now you can't get it into your brain that I cannot have you killing my babies in my womb because of your vain ego and pride, then you need to have your head examined. She is a girl, and that's what you gave me. If you don't want her, I repeat again, please take her away and murder her yourself. She's all yours now."
The baby, probably disturbed by the noise and apparent hostility in the room, stirred uncomfortably and began to cry. Thus, her first encounter with her father wasn't on a most friendly note, but that of rejection, regret and pain.
Chief disturbed by the baby's cry, turned and regarded the baby for a while. Then turning to his wife once again, he said in-between clenched teeth. "You'll pay for this, I promise you, you will." Without another word, he stormed out of the room, banging the door violently behind him. The noise he left behind, equating the confusion on his mind.
It was 17th May 2008.