After a suicide bombing attack, victims were brought
to a hospital in Maiduguri & Mongono Cuncurently ,
Borno state, September 20th, 2015.
Nurses run
back and forth.
In
desperation or in mere obedience to doc's ordering calls.
With trays
carrying iodine, aspirin, or insulin shots
Stumbling
over friends of dying victims in sordid embrace.
Brushing off
hands, hands of bitter spectators.
Watching life's
game of man vs injuries.
With life,
the reward of doc's skill or faith in God,
And death,
the cost of error or call of nature.
Nurses run
back and forth.
Like the
eyes that followed them. Eyes, pale and frail
Like the
faces that wear them.
Faces
burnt by fear into a formless lump of grief.
Tongue
bitter from drug permeated saliva secretion.
Limbs
hanging loose but for the flimsy hold of tired tendons.
Smell of
drugs rudely infiltrating dehydrated nostrils.
Nose ones
pure like neatly built upholstery.
Scooping
in life's purity in healthy overdose.
Mouth
drooling phlegm, slime, blood...
Just one
more lover for this repelling face.
Lustfully
kissing him in a silk of pleasure - the kiss of death!
One more
face to get a bonus of wool for nostrils and ears today.
Tomorrow...
The next...
Nurses run
back and forth.
Like bears
bereaved of their cubs.
She runs,
only to wonder why she runs. To pack up corpse?
Her white
vest defying what she calls her job. As she moves through
Long
passages of many doors of doctors, matrons, accountants,
Pharmacists,
theatres, chemotherapists ... mortuary. They all
Seem to
end there, or be discharged, free, only to end there.
She pauses to think as she slowly come
She pauses to think as she slowly come
To grasp
the truth.
NURSES RUN back and forth. Only to realize the
Clause
itself runs back to front. When read from back to front.
But she
runs as she keeps undimmed, her love to satisfy nearer needs,
For the
wider joy of all.
Nurses run back and forth. They all run. Some,
in unfeeling,
Exaggerated
steps to doc's ordering calls. Others, in warm
Response to their heart's gentle; dutiful
call. Hearts who
Through use, have learned the thrill of
giving,
Which is
the joy of living.
by Awogbemila Tobiloba
by Awogbemila Tobiloba
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