Rose of Numen

by Olatunde, Biola;

  In another part of the hospital, after Ife had regained her equilibrium, Josephine asked who the woman was and if the woman had tried to attack her.

  Ife shook her head slowly. “When she offered me the soap I felt chills going round my person so I had to step away. I think she accepted to carry on where my paternal grandmother left off.”

  “What you are saying is, that woman we left by the orthopedic section is a raving witch? Good, I am going there right now!” Josephine said angrily.

  Ife pulled her back. “Don’t be an idiot, what are you going to tell her? That I just fingered her as a witch?” They stared at each other and then laughed out loud.

  Josephine was the first to wipe her eyes from the tears of mirth. “Imagine a medical doctor like you, being afraid of witches.”

  “Yes I know. And what were you thinking, did you plan to walk up and say, hey witch, this is a human zone so keep moving?”

  They laughed again.

  “And you always said a witch can’t touch you but you took off real fast when you saw one,” Josephine scoffed.

  Ife was suddenly quiet. “I never really liked her, you know, but for some reason today I just did not feel comfortable with her there and when she pulled out that local soap, my system screamed ‘run’.”

  “Yeah I understand, I probably would have given her an injection of formaldehyde.”

  “Come on! You wouldn’t do that, that is extreme.”

  “So what are we going to do with her? We can’t just leave her in that section?” Josephine asked, after some silence had elapsed.

  “I will tell her that I am about to go for a long operation on a patient and promise to visit home later in the week.”

  A little later Josephine came to look for her and Ife was just staring into space.

  “What happened?” Josephine asked.

  “She was not here when I came back and nobody saw a woman of her description. She just melted away I think.”

  A look of concern crept into her eyes. Josephine shrugged and spread her hands wide in helplessness. “Did she have money to return to the village?”

  “I guess she left in a huff. She is the national champion of complainants. I will probably see her at the end of the week when I go to the village.”

  ~~~

  For the rest of the week, Ife had bad dreams. In one of them she was offered a roasted chicken with vegetables and she remembered turning the offer down politely. The next morning Ife had attended the court proceedings of Babatunde. She returned to the doctor’s quarters to find someone had received on her behalf a fast-food package of chicken and chips. It used to be her usual fast food but Ife stood and stared at it for long periods. She went to her room and poured water over it and stood bemused as the chicken became a swarming mass of worms. Then she heard the voice of Babatunde in her mind telling her to step away but put lots of salt on the worms, and that she would know who sent the ‘package’ later.

  Ife went about her clinical duties, making friends and learning to lead the songs at the ante-natal rather than allow some of the nurses to start them. She was always busy and was also attending the court sessions of Babatunde. Josephine came around often and formally reverted to being addressed as Josephine rather than Ngozi. They rarely spoke about Babatunde even though Ife worried over him. Both she and Babatunde rarely talked about their feelings to each other.

  One evening as she sat making an omelet, she heard someone knocking on her door. Mystified, she went to open the door and saw a young man standing there. He had a letter for her from the state house to see the wife of the state governor. She frowned as she read the letter. She placed the letter on her dresser and would have forgotten all about it until her CMD asked her if she was attending the meeting. He explained that he had recommended her to the governor’s wife. He refused to explain what the first lady wanted.

  She frowned as she had made plans to be somewhere that day, but not wanting to be rude to someone she had never met, she agreed to go.

  Mrs. Yetunde Ibidun, the first lady, turned out to be a surprise. She was slim to the point of being thin, had a funny sense of humor and insisted on being called Mrs. Ibidun. Ife was intrigued and listened to what the woman wanted. She wanted to set up an NGO. It was fashionable for wives of governors to set up NGOs the minute their husbands become governors. It was a trend that Ife held in close suspicion, as she knew a few of them were used as fronts for all sorts of things. Ife was not sure she wanted to be part of the charade these ladies tried on the public and had always avoided attending workshops organized by them.

  She knew she had come to the attention of the lady simply because of the interview a news reporter had done over her attempt to get justice for the young woman from her hospital who had been raped and abandoned by both family and friends.

  As she sat in the inner office facing the lady, these thoughts ran through her mind. She listened with her inner-mind to the first lady who was busy commending her for speaking out about women that have suffered violence. “I understand you offered to pay for her medical bills from your salary, your CMD told me that.”

  Ife smiled. “It was a personal decision, I did not expect this level of noise over it.”

  Mrs. Ibidun laughed. “You think we are making noise?”

  Ife smiled, “I did not think it merited all the attention, I just felt we—”

  “I will like you to work with me, you know, be part of my advisors,” Mrs. Ibidun cut in.

  Ife wondered if she had heard rightly. “Er, I am a medical doctor not a politician—”

  The first lady interrupted her saying politicians are just humans who have decided to serve in a different way. Ife asked if she could be given time to think about it and Mrs. Ibidun said she had the rest of the week and that she would be expected to attend her cabinet meeting the following Tuesday.

  Ife didn’t like being given orders. She held down her irritation and smiled already deciding that she had no intention of attending a meeting.

  I mean she must be deaf or something, I have no time to waste with female airheads

  Mrs. Ibidun studied her closely. Ife detected amusement in her eyes. She was disarmed when Mrs. Ibidun laughed and held out a friendly hand.

  “I used to be a principal so I can be abrupt; you must learn to ignore such. I think I like you.”

  “I am not used to your circle of activity and there are such things as protocol—how am I to address you? Chief, Mrs., or Doctor Mrs.?

  “I am simply Yetunde Ibidun. Those people might frown if you call me that so let’s just stick to Mrs. Ibidun, okay?”

  Ife laughed outright, feeling at peace with the woman.

  She might be okay after all.

  As she stepped into the outer office a face she had forgotten stared at her. It was Deji, the reporter from Badagry.

  He appeared pleasantly surprised. “I know you are not the first lady, but I have been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Who declared me missing then?”

  Deji shrugged. Something was on his mind but Ife was not particularly keen to find out and she headed for the main parking lot. The sun was up and she was hit by the blast of hot air and gleaming tarmac. Ife was irritated as she involuntarily compared this to her village and remembered Tosin. When Deji touched her hand she swung instinctively, staring in horror as the man hit the floor. He got up and they stared at each other. Deji rubbed his jaw, his eyes pools of shock.

  Ife was mortified and her jaw refused to close. She shook her head and spoke softly. “You have a knack of turning up in my worst nightmares.”

  Deju flinched and drew back. Ife was disgusted with her own bad manners so she clenched her fists and turned away. When she looked back Deji had gone back into the inner office. Ife returned to the office and left a note for him and walked back towards the main gate of the governor’s office.

  A car drove up and Deji stepped out of the car. He looked at her and quietly showed her the note she had left behind for him.


  Ife got into the car. Later in a restaurant she quietly apologized for her flash of bad manners and did the best she could to explain that she was having a bad day.

  “I have been looking for you and prayed to meet you. You took off in a hurry and ruined my breakfast. I have avoided breakfasts since then.”

  “I think you are the original calamity, Deji. What was the surname I would laugh at?”

  “Wonder.”

  “What?”

  “You asked to know my surname.”

  “That is not a surname,” Ife scoffed.

  “Okay, I agree with you,” Deji said, and looked around to attract the attention of the waiter.

  Ife stood up abruptly. “I think I had better go, I still have ward rounds to do at the hospital.”

  Deji gave her a smile. “Why do you keep running? I am not going to bite you. Have a drink, make fun of my surname and tell me I am lying but do me a favor, sit down. I deserve that after the punch you landed on my face. My jaw feels swollen. I could have sued you for battery, and assault, never could understand why they use the word battery, but I think I know now, it is to light up your brain with stars when the punch lands.”

  Ife sat down and told him coldly to name his prize.

  Deji spoke softly, “I did not even make any effort but I am in love with you.” He gave a dramatic sigh dropping his head on the table.

  “Are you sick?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “I already said I was sorry for hitting you.”

  “You didn’t need to say you were sorry but I am not going to say I am sorry for falling in love with you.”

  “Don’t be silly, people don’t fall in love like that. Besides I have not done anything to bring about that nonsense.”

  Deji laughed heartily until Ife hushed him saying he was creating a scene. He kept staring at her. Ife sensed a third presence and felt Babatunde. She knew he was around her in that special way they had of communicating. She heard a silent growl directed at Deji and an emotion emanated from Babatunde that suddenly made her uneasy. She stood up abruptly, looking around her but there was no physical presence of Babatunde. Suddenly the table upturned, scattering the crockery to the floor. Deji stepped back in surprise just as a low growl was now audible. It died abruptly as Deji watched her in shock.

  Ife was angry but quietly told Deji that she really had to go and she whirled and walked out with Deji staring after her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ”What do you mean you are withdrawing?” Babatunde tried to make sense of what Adejare was telling him.

  Adejare shrugged. “You are not exactly deaf, my friend. I have no intention of being a reluctant king. If I was the right king, Ifa would not be dropping that bombshell that there was a missing prince. Besides, I have had serious second thoughts. I would like to live abroad and this king business will cramp my style. I can’t be king from abroad you know.”

  Babatunde paced his office. Adejare looked at him from the chair he was sitting in.

  “That really should make it easier, just hand the darn thing over to Adewunmi and he will let go,” Adejare said.

  Babatunde gave a wry smile. “Adewunmi, for your information, is considering withdrawing from the race too. He came to see me last night. So, I am wondering what type of game this is between the pair of you. First I was offered money but the money turns up in my account, then the government insists on sitting in on the selection process and as if that is not enough, you both want to pull out. No can do.”

  “I don’t get you.”

  Babatunde returned to the seat and gave Adejare a level stare. “The selection process will go on with the government official sitting in and whoever is selected can jolly well tell the gathering of Elders, including the whole town, that he is turning it down. You will state your reasons to the town and not me, I am just a member.”

  Adejare laughed. “You can crown an absent king? I have not the slightest intention to turn up for the next meeting. I have booked my flight, I am taking Ireti to London and there is no force that will stop me. You can arrange your town meeting between now and tomorrow for I am leaving for Lagos as my flight is at midnight tomorrow. Now how are you going to stop me?”

  Babatunde gave him a long look and asked abruptly, “You are being threatened by whom?”

  Adejare tried to laugh but went silent. Clenched fists raised to his eyes. “I…” He swallowed and made for the door, but Babatunde was quicker and stood in his way with his back barring the door.

  Adejare was the first to drop the defiant stance. He slumped back into the chair and covered his eyes with fists, chest heaving. “I am not qualified to contest. My mother pleaded that I should withdraw as she does not want the secret of the missing prince to be disclosed through her, for it will mean death.”

  Babatunde returned to his seat. “There really is a missing prince somewhere?”

  Adejare nodded.

  “Who is he?”

  “She would not tell me, but knelt and begged me that what Ifa said was true and that if I went ahead and contested, she could only imagine the consequences.”

  “Fine time for her to beg you to cry off, but for Adewunmi, you would be about finishing the rites to being crowned.”

  “I told her that and she said I would have been dead before I could walk into the palace. A man came to visit her late at night, she wouldn’t tell me who the person was but she became really frightened. After that visit she refused all entreaties to speak except to tell me to save her life and not be a contestant.”

  “I am tired of all these mysteries.”

  “Me too, I just don’t want to step over my mother’s body in order to be king.”

  “Are you sure you are actually telling me everything?” Babatunde asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Adejare gave a growl deep in his throat and got an instant reply from Babatunde. Both men stood up and eyeballed each other like two beasts about to fight.

  Adejare walked past Babatunde to the door. “For some reason, I sense something that I am not sure I want to be involved in is about to happen. I am not sure I want to settle in this village about this time. My mother says she has been having nightmares of being buried up to her neck alive in some place and knowing she could do nothing about it. I have not seen the old man ever since and I can’t place him. I am not that desperate to be king, Babatunde.”

  Babatunde gave him a frustrated look before Adejare walked out.

  He had a few days of casual leave coming to him so he decided to spend them in his village and left the city.

  ~~~

  That evening Babatunde sat watching the stars and wondered about what he could do. He considered his growing dissatisfaction with living in the city. He really had no wish to live there. He would like to have a small pharmacy, not a patent store like those that littered the village now, but a real pharmacy, and he wanted to study the herbs more and learn about their healing combinations. When the government introduced an agency to control the influx of fake drugs into the country, he had like most people heaved a sigh of relief that some sanity was being introduced into the business. It wasn’t long before he experienced disappointment when the merchants of death, as he privately called them, shifted their business to the rural areas. He soon discovered that even hospital staff had been infected with the rampant corruption as they stole from the medical stores and sold them to their clients. It was painful to see patients not being able to get genuine drugs from the pharmacy managed by the government hospitals. Such drugs could be purchased from pharmacies owned privately by staff of the hospital.

  He was expected to do such things too. Sometimes they made inflated requests and creamed the excess to their own pharmacies. Babatunde knew he could not get involved in such practices and he contemplated leaving because he sensed that someday soon someone was going to know about the dirty deals going on.

  An old man walked by and he automatically gave him the one word salute reserved for elde
rly people. The old man replied and asked if his father was home. Babatunde stood up respectfully and said he had seen his father leave to have a talk with his friend at the end of the street and offered to send for him. The old man smiled and said he just wanted an excuse to rest his legs as he had been having a walk round the town.

  Babatunde smiled and said that was really interesting as he knew that men of his age tended to sit and smoke the occasional pipe after the only main food of the day. The old man nodded and took the traditional seat that Babatunde offered. Babatunde noticed the very old type of shoes that the man had on. He was intrigued but said nothing. The slippers were made from tiny beads and Babatunde had never seen them on old men around but remembered that old men were once known to have such slippers. His father used to tell him about it and had shown him one pair he kept in his room as a family inheritance.

  The old man asked him about his business in town and he smiled that he wasn’t a businessman but rather a servant of the state as he worked in the hospital as a pharmacist.

  “Hmm, the medicines that have been rendered ineffective because they have removed some or most of the real substance of the medicine. Olodumare shows you what you need to use by the shapes of the plants and will indicate a prevalent ailment when such remedies starts to grow around the area.” He gave Babatunde a keen look. “Do you know where the lost prince can be reached now? According to the rumors making the rounds, the lost prince was incarnated and he can now be reached.”

  Babatunde gave the old man a startled look. “Do you know of him?”