GHOST (The Shadow in the Dark)

part thirty one

      I wrote well in my first paper but declined when Ken offered to take me out for lunch. I told him I needed to go somewhere alone. He allowed me after I swore I was not going to commit suicide. At first, he did not believe me but allowed me when I told him I did not deserve the luxury of suicide.
       I took a bus to Main Gate, then to ring road. I went to Bob Izua Motor Park and walked down the street. I saw them, Hausa children begging for alms. Some of them were holding their blind father or mother as they begged. There were also Niger Fulanis that had long hairs and were mixed colored. Neither black nor white. I studied them and allowed my body pull me to one of them. She was looking so dirty and she was crying. Her long hair which was braided into two long rolls was stained and mixed with dust. I squatted close to her.
“Hi.”
She turned and grabbed my shirt. I had always hit their hand and pushed them off sending curses their way but for the first time, I let her.
“Please give me money, money for my brother, he dey sick.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Nine.”
“Can you take me to your brother?”
I needed to see for myself, I was never going to allow my emotions rule me again. Even though some of them were genuinely in need, many saw begging as a business and they even made money more than the average private school teachers. I knew that because there was a time I was going back to school after getting something from Ring Road. It was getting dark and the beggars were becoming more desperate. One almost tore my clothes. I had to drop my bag to push her away. She found another target who told her she did not have change, the girl said she had change. I could not believe the swell in her apron was money. She packed out money and gave the young surprised girl four hundred and fifty naira change. The girl ran away leaving her helper in shock. So I just did not want to be fooled.
She obliged and I followed her to a street. I was sure we were no longer in Ring Road. I started having a second thought when I saw her crossing a heap of dirt.
“Come, he is here” she waved at me still crying.
I had to close my nose and struggled not to throw up as I crossed the heap of dirt and entered into an old dilapidated caravan. Someone was lying down on what look like an old dirty mat. I was expecting someone big but I saw a little boy. He was coughing.
“Where is your mother?”
“I don’t have parents.”
“Who brought you here?”
“My big brother.”
“Where is he and how can someone live here?”
“He is working wheelbarrow work to find money to buy drugs.”
I could not hold my tears, I started crying and only knew I was supposed to be the adult when the child coughed again.
“Okay, let’s take him to the hospital” I said trying to carry the child but he screamed, afraid of me.
The sister had to carry him.  I stopped a taxi as soon as we were back at Ring Road. The man said he did not want his cab to get dirty and he only allowed us when I offered to pay double.
He took us to Stella Obasanjo hospital where the boy was treated. They refused us at first, they said it was not an NGO hospital but changed when I dropped bundles of cash to show I would pay anything. As the Doctor checked him out at the emergency ward, I called Ken to join me.  We waited outside with people looking at the girl as dirt. I hated that look. Those who did not even have up to a hundred thousand in their account felt they were better than us.
“What’s your name?”
“Jamila.”
“Jamila your brother will be fine, okay?”
She nodded. She was really looking bad and had a terrible body odor that needed to be fixed. I was called by one of the nurses. The one I had given money to help me run and pay for anything. She said a doctor wanted to see me. The doctor told me the child was suffering from malnutrition and malaria and probably typhoid. They had conducted test and had already put him on drip for malaria. I nodded. He said he would probably be there for the day and he needed food and clean body. I also nodded.
   With the help of the nurse with my money, Jamila was able to clean her brother but there was no clothes. The bedspread was used to cover him. That was when Ken joined us at the emergency ward. I explained what happened and begged him to watch him while I went out to get some needed stuffs for them. Ken was just the right friend someone could lean on.
   Jamila was allowed to use the bathroom, God must have touched their heart after they saw Ken. Some nurses had no shame, they kept flanking him like they were his bodyguard. She still had to put on her dirty clothes and her hair was not yet washed.
   I bought a gown for her to change into, I made sure the sales girl at the boutique saw her size before leaving. She was the only one to answer us among five boutiques we visited. I took her to a salon and paid for her hair to be washed and braided all back, then went to shop for clothes for them. 
When I came back to the salon, they were about to make her hair. The hairdresser explained that it took her three washings before the hair got clean. Then people were admiring the air which was touching her waist. I just told her to pack the hair into pony tail because there was no time. I had exams to write the next day. The transformation was breathtaking. She looked like a colored, the daughter of a rich man. She ran to me and gave me a bear hug, I had to beg her to release me.
As we left the salon, Jamila told me she wanted to look for her brother because he might be worried if he did not find them. So we went in search of her brother and we were lucky it took only twenty minutes. He was not like Jamila, he looked like the average Fulani, very lanky, tall and tanned, not that colored but had pointed nose which was a common trait. I told him to go drop the wheelbarrow and follow us. He did not argue because he could see Jamila had changed. He said he was nineteen and they were orphans.
       By the time they discharged Malik, Jamila’s little brother around 10:PM, I was already tired and stressed out. I was very happy when Ken told me I had mixed up the timetable, that our next paper was not the next day. Ken almost made me cry when he said he was taking them to his house. I followed him to his house at BDPA for the first time. It was a three bedroom flat, well decorated and furnished. He said his parents bought the house as soon as he got admission. He said he was going to be staying there for a long time because he still had plans to switch to Law and he was already managing two new filling stations his parents recently opened in Benin. He was just twenty two yet had so many responsibilities to take care of. He had no neighbor and it was fenced round. Jamila’s brother was just looking dumb when Ken showed him where he and his two year little brother would be staying. As for Jamila, she got a room to herself.
He started crying when he realized he was not dreaming. Ken left to switch on the generator as Jamila and her brother cried tears of joy. I joined them to cry, I wished I could fall in love with Ken.
Ken made Jamila’s big brother to take a bath and put on his cloth. It looked larger on him but he promised to get him new clothes. I had to ask Ken why he was helping them.
“Seriously I wish I know why. I just could not take the way you guys were being treated at the hospital. I felt for the little child and I don’t know. Maybe because I can help, because I saw a little life in you for the first time in more than a month. That’s a good sign.”
“What of your parents?”
“I don’t know what they will say, but I will call my mum tomorrow. The two rooms are empty and they can take care of themselves without pestering me. One day at a time Ella.”
“Thank you.” I threw myself against him and he must have been shocked because he took time before placing his hands on my back.
I raised my head to see Jamila and his brother looking at us.  I knew what I did would never give me redemption and I did not even want redemption.
“What’s your name?” I asked her brother.
“Saheed.”
I remembered that was Ghost’s real name. That was the name his sister had called him. I started crying.