Room 911 (Revisited)

“What has the number 911 got to do with you?”

  “911 translates into September 11, and it was the day those terrorists killed so many innocent people in New York City. My brother was among the dead.”

“So many other innocent people were also killed, not just your brother alone. By the way, had it been that the events of 911 had taken place in a poor African country, do you think it would have received this massive press coverage?”

 The nurse continues,

“You know what? The reason why it attracted such a massive press coverage was not because of the number of casualties, but because of the fact that, the king of the forest had been wounded by termites!”

“Aren’t you sorry for those who lost their lives in such a barbaric attack?”

“No doubt, it was a lamentable occurrence. But I do also feel sorry for those poor women and children of Africa and elsewhere who die every day due to hunger, malnutrition and AIDS. Just imagine what the world would have been if it had united against AIDS, poverty, and hunger as it now does against terrorism.”

“Do not link 911 and the widespread deprivation in Africa caused by Africans themselves.”

“Do not also try to link 911 and the room numbers in our hospital.”

Their argument about 911 became so nasty that I became nervous. I wondered why Abudu would come to visit me in the hospital only to have himself and other nurses argue about my room number. I had always believed that Abudu, who seemed to have been a well-brought-up individual, is as decorous alone as he is in public. Wasn’t he the same person who delayed my arrival at this hospital? If he is so concerned about my well-being, why didn’t he make sure that I arrive here on time to receive a timely attention? All I know about this man is that, he has been a roué, he is immoral. Despite the fact that he is a married man, he has seduced many women and dropped them for new conquests. Am I now his next target?

As I continued to agonize over my predicament, tears begun to flow freely down my cheeks How, on earth, could I have gotten myself ensnared by this dissolute man? I have only myself to blame. But how could I resisted his friendship when he seemed to care so much about my progress, especially after my Dad, who had been a business executive, became so déclassé to the point of working as a night watchman due to adverse circumstances? A nurse  rushes in, handing over my bill, he says:

“Get ready, its time to go home.”

To Be continued…

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