Chapter 3: Hospital Life and Whispers

By ten, our department oga hold meeting.

Inside conference room, everybody dey act serious. Some dey press phone under table. Oga dey talk about hospital budget, say government no release money—same old story. I just dey jot down points, dey look outside window.

By ten-thirty, I come back to continue dey look through charts.

My eyes dey red from looking charts. I dey calculate dose for one patient, dey check blood test for another. Sometimes, my mind go wander, but as doctor, you must sharp.

By eleven forty, I waka go canteen go chop.

As I enter canteen, aroma of jollof rice, beans, and fried fish dey my nose. I greet the woman for counter, "Aunty Bisi, abeg add extra dodo—doctor brain need energy!" She laugh, give me extra meat—"Doctor wey dey save life, God go bless you." I thank am well, siddon near window, chop like person wey get reason.

For noon, I nap small.

I put head for desk, close eye for five minutes. Na so small sleep sweet pass. For dream, I dey see myself for village—early morning devotion, fetching water before school, goat dey run, NEPA shout for background.

By two, I dey standby, ready for any emergency for any ward.

I dey watch phone, dey ready for code blue call. Once in a while, nurse go rush in, dey shout. My heart go skip but I go stand up sharp, dey handle matter with sense.

By five thirty, I close for the day.

As I pack my bag, I wave the cleaner, greet the gateman for gate. Sun dey go down, Lagos traffic don start. I enter bus, head home, body dey tired but spirit dey calm. But for this hospital, every day fit bring new wahala.

Na so my routine be now—busy but calm, every day na the same thing.

For this kind routine, na only small gist dey keep person sane. Sometimes na prayer, sometimes na laughter.

"Person like Dr. Ifedike, see as e end up—who for think am? Life no balance at all."

I hear the voice from corridor. The gist dey enter ear like breeze wey pass window.

"Na true. Sometimes, I dey even wonder if say I make correct decision to be doctor."

Person sigh, voice low. The hustle of medicine for Naija fit make person question e life.

"I hear small about Dr. Ifedike matter. I just dey pity am. No be normal thing to collect chop money? Why e come be wahala for am own?"

One of the older interns dey reason the matter aloud. Na so hospital life be—today dem praise you, tomorrow your name dey mud.

"You never sabi how people dey change. When dem need you, dem go dey worship you. Once dem don well, na you owe dem."

Another intern talk am like parable. For Nigeria, na true word—when wahala dey, dem go dey call you sir. Once e clear, dem fit forget all your sacrifice.

"Honestly, Dr. Ifedike get better mind. If na me, I for don resign since."

Young nurse add her voice, e dey pain her. She look me with pity anytime wey our eye meet for corridor.

"Erm... seniors, I just start here. Abeg who fit tell me wetin happen to Dr. Ifedike?"

Fresh intern voice dey shake small. E just dey look for story, but you go know say e dey fear make trouble no jam am.

"Make I yarn you, Dr. Ifedike, e..."

I hear their whispers, but I no let am enter my body. Life get as e be—no matter how you try, people go still talk.