Oncology clinic consisted of a medical director, nursing director, doctors, staff nurses, health care coordinators, and of course, CT scan machines that Sadiq loathed the most.

A few things toped his hatred for hospital gowns. They reminded him of dark times, forlorn memories.

A short pain registered in his system as an Indian nurse inserted into him an Iv line. She demanded he lay face up. Once he held his breath and did as asked, she poked various places on his body in confirmation of anatomical landmarks for his scan before retreating to the control room.

Sadiq lay still, familiar with the proceedings as the table moved in and out of the machine. He held his breath for the three-dimensional data. Once the scan began, it lasted for about a quarter of an hour.

Sadiq had walked out cold in his sweat sets, his body's sensitization to radiation at its peak and Umma had held him when he limped to her.

"Don't scare me like that, Sadiq. Please, don't ever scare me like that."

They were moving from one clinic to another, Hematology. Sadiq knew of his first condition, Anemia, hence not fazed when his physician began to discuss brief details with his mother. The second condition, however, had him leaning forward and more attentive to the physician.

"He is at a very high risk of systemic toxicity," the physician explained, the smell of drugs suddenly not torture enough to Sadiq, "His blood test results show he is an ultra-rapid metabolizer and his system rapidly breaks down codeine to morphine, and tramadol to M1 faster and to a greater extent than 90% of the world's population."
Umma directed an obvious glare at Sadiq's head, "And what does that mean?"

The doctor clasped his fingers on the table, "It means he should be nowhere near codeine and or tramadol."

"How come we never knew of this?" Umma beat Sadiq to the question at the tip of his tongue.

"He was never in contact with codeine or tramadol until now." The physician and Umma continued to stare at Sadiq who now stared at the table. "Codeine and tramadol are not your cup of tea, Abubakar."

"Ka gaya masa." Umma agreed, angling her palm from the doctor to Sadiq.

"It puts you at great risk, especially as an ex-cancer patient still struggling with anemia."

"I'll do better," he promised, knowing it was close to impossible.

They left the clinic a while after various medications had been prescribed and bought for him.

"Umma..." Sadiq began but was cut by the feeling of needles striking his throat. Umma glanced at him. "I'll do better," he said, manifesting it. "Believe me," his body angled at her, the car moving under his mother's influence effortlessly through the wide roads of Jabi, "Forgive me. I'll try and do better."

"Please do, Sadiq. Do better." Her tired voice refused to break yet he picked the ticking time before it did. His mother was tired, and so was he. What could he do to make it better for her?

"I will." It was the only way, "Please say you forgive me." Umma would've done it without him repeating but he needed to hear it as well, remind himself.

"I've long forgiven you, Buba na. But please," she held at a traffic hold, her attention moving to him. She held a hand to his face and he leaned into the touch, her finger grazing the sores on his dry lip from his withdrawal syndrome the day before. His frenzied sweat, retching, diarrhea, and itchiness had compelled her to revisit memories from years back when his condition convinced her she couldn't do anything to save him. "You scared me. Please, don't ever remind me of those years I watched cancer eat you up. Those were the worse years of all our lives. Please, don't intentionally give us a reason to watch you in those horrible conditions again. Don Allah-"

"I'll do better," it had become a mantra, his cold palms clasped around her lower arm as honks began to fire. "Please don't cry."

"I have to," she revived, moving the car, "Maybe you'll pity me."

A single desire to watch his mother a lot less in pain convinced him to stay away from his meth, his saving grace, for more than a day. At least until his CT scan results had been declared normal and his mother jumped from the couch, throwing away her phone and engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Is he complication free?" Jays had rushed in with her kids and Fadila an hour after Umma called her to celebrate the news.

"Yes," Umma answered.

"Alhamdulillah." She chorused along with Fadila, releasing her baby's cradle on the nearest flat surface and hitting Sadiq's stomach in mock before setting out a handshake for him.

It was his reward. Staying clean for a few days and smearing tunnel-long joy on his family's faces. His first genuine smile after a while. He dragged Jays in with the handshake, engulfing her in a hug as well. It lasted a few seconds and she revived, face contorting.

"Heys! You stink. Did you even shower today?"

Sadiq's instinct was to raise his arm to perceive his scent and immediately dropped it. His lips spread in disgust. Damn, was that how he smelt like every time he went showerless and high for days?

"Take a shower," Jays stepped away, the veil on her hair falling to her shoulder. "And please don't try to hug poor Fadila. Shower, I'll take us all out."

Sadiq had no recollection of the last time he had meaningful food. It was always a dried plate of food found where it was left off the following morning. He found satiety in the drugs, they were all that satisfied his taste buds.

He stepped out of the shower, finding half of his clothes not in their normal position. They were at the laundry, Umma had taken pity on his sabotaged room and picked up the mess he made the past year.

In a try to mimic his old self, he picked a plain sewn kaftan and stepped into it. Seizing any effort apart from that. His face, and body, devoid of any cream or care. It was the most he could do.

Once he appeared before his family, Jays tucked her phone away, ushering everyone out once it dawned on her Umma was not bulging when she said she had a lot of work to cover up.

Once Sadiq settled with a sleeping Nawal to his chest in the front seat, Jays kicked the engine to life and honked at the gate.

"I'll check." Sadiq offered, pushing his door open and slipping through the small door beside the gate. "Yadai?" He called to the gatekeeper who stood with men in black. "We have been honking, Miya faru?"

"These people insisted they come in, ni ko bansansu ba," The gatekeeper said, taking a step back and approaching Sadiq with a file.

"They wanted to give you this and come with them."

Sadiq took the file, not bothering to wave a greeting at the men. He held Nawal tighter with a single arm.

The file he took out from the envelope had a heading on it, his eyes darting from it to the men unfazed by his wide eyes.

"What is it?" Jays reached where he stood. "What is that?" She gestured at the sheet.

"It's a lawsuit." Sadiq could not believe his eyes. "I've been sued..." he silently read further, his heart skipping a beat once he read the line after, "And the plaintiff is demanding..." he paused to reread, hoping it was his eyes seeing things from the long-term effects of opioids. "20 milli-what the hell is this?"

Sadiq quickly handed Nawal to Jays, stomping to the men in black. "What sort of joke is this? Who the hell did I assault?"

"The journalist, Isaac Robert."

"What stupid journalist?" It was impossible not to shout, "When did that even happen?"

"Six days ago. You punched him twice in front of the federal prison."

"Ni?" Sadiq stuck a finger into his chest, ready to jump them but he paused, his body going still in recollection of memory. Their claims were right. Punching a persistent reporter twice in the face was the highlight of his previous week. He had vented his chagrin on someone who deserved it and didn't regret it nor give it another thought till that second. "He was making false accusations."

"Amed Segun. His lawyer," the one on Sadiq's right introduced, placing a palm out. "Good you just admitted to it, we expect you to read through the file before the dateline or you'll be subpoenaed."

Sadiq glared at Amed's palm. He was sure it was a mocking one. "20 million? You and your client are mad." He hissed, walking past Jays who trailed in his fast footsteps.

"What were you sued for?"

He handed her the file without a setback, walking straight to his room and banging the door close.

What in the demonic world was that? Fraudsters had upgraded to that point? Where did they get the audacity to demand so much?

He propelled the bottle of water and glass cup off his coffee table. His current temperament was shaking, his mind bringing ideas that could only help in the meantime. His mind schemed exhausting images before his eyes. What was his solution to this stupid scheme?

His mind knew one answer these days; self-destruction.

Sadiq went on a rampage, slashing the pillow cloth off his pillows in search of a fix. He moved to the cabinets, rashly pulling them out and dismantling the gentle lineup his mother had spent hours on. They were devoid of his saving grace. He slid face down on the floor, propelling his hands underneath his bed to a clean floor. Even the dirt had been swept off.

"Umma!"

This could only be her job. Her or Jays. But knowing how disappointed Jays had been in him to the point she couldn't walk into his room, this could only mean his mother.

Sadiq jumped, banging the door open and walking into his lounge. He opened his laptop bag, turning it inside out and finding things he wasn't looking for. The remote next, slashing the battery component out and pausing in victory. A few colored pills met his distressed eyes and he took a relieving step back.

"You told Umma you'll do better." He released the jargon as if a thousand flames erupted from it. Turning to Jays. Millisecond by millisecond, acceptance coupled with defeat overpowered her features.

Sadiq brought a palm to his face, weakness enveloping him as he thought back to the promise he made not more than 24 hours ago. Promises weren't his thing anymore.
"This," Jays moved along, raising the file under her hard grip, "It's serious. He has witnesses against you. There's even a video claiming to have caught it. You have to respond in the next 24 hours or the court will have no other choice but to enter a default judgment against you and subpoena you."

He tutted, looking away, "They must be sick."

"No, it is you that is sick." She threw the file at his face, "If our mother should get as little as a headache from this..." the threat lingered, a finger at his face, "Fix this."
Sadiq fixed a dose after she left, their plans now out the window with what he brought forth.

His expectations of ecstasy were diminished when all he was faced forth with after he dissolved a pill in a bottle of water and drowned it all was disastrous. The feeling the substance lended him was one a tormentor would it's captive.

Captivity. The word fitted it.

The feeling caught him captive in more woe and woe, wondering, when was the substance ever going to make him feel like it did the first time he took it? Floating. Ecstatic. Like it was what he had sought his whole life. Where had that feeling gone to?

The demand letter was a bluff, Sadiq concluded once he woke up in his weak, deplorable bones, sweat on every exposed skin of his.

Sadiq avoided the sight of his mother for the next following hours. Shame and self loathe ate his pants. With what eye was he going to look at her again?

Umma antagonized his plan. She made sure to damage him, her voice being the first evidence. Cold and callous. "Your father wants to see you."

Sadiq rose bulky lifting eyes to her, her body dipped in house attire. He glanced at his window, the light rays peaking through his curtains. It was daytime, why wasn't she at work?

"Umma."

"Now," she said, closing the door on her way out.

The command was vague. Where was he to find Abi? The search for his father's whereabouts ended up with Hafiz walking into Sadiq's room when he picked up his phone.

Hafiz had been absent in Sadiq's miserable life now. Primarily because Sadiq was too ashamed of himself to show his face, avoiding Hafiz at all costs since all he did was show Sadiq pity or lecture him on getting his shit together and getting out of the poppy mess he immersed himself in.

"I don't need your pity or lectures. I am clean."

"That isn't what Umma and Jays said."

Sadiq stopped in his tracks, an inch from walking out on Hafiz. He turned to give Hafiz a piece of his mind but decided against it.

"Sadiq."

"Leave me alone."

"How do you expect me t-"

Words ceased at the sound of the lounge door bursting open. A row of men in uniforms troped in. A second and they were explaining their presence.

"We're here to enter a default judgment against you for contempt of law."

Sadiq stood dumbfounded and Hafiz stepped forward.

"What does that even mean?"

"We're here to arrest him."

The two friends shared a single glance before a colleague approached Sadiq, prepared for resistance but Sadiq obliged, seeing no reason why he should resist the inevitable.

Jays was right again, "Tell Jays how proud of her I am," he said to Hafiz, sarcastically.

In a day or so, Sadiq had gone through more insults than his whole life combined as the force tried to extract a confession out of him while he set out his surrender flag. It was when his teensy hope had run out did a lawyer he had no recollection of knowing show up, discussing negotiations with the reporting party and coming to a said price.

His biggest guess was Umma. Despite the woe he lavished her life with these days, he was sure she was the only one compassionate enough to pull him out of this mud. Now imagine the surprise that hit him as the first place he was taken to by the driver sent to pick him up from the station was Abi's home.

Doubts sprout in his head. Although no family was there to hold him, the last person he guessed to pay his lawsuit was his raging father.

The front porch housed his awaiting father, his steps slowing as his figure began to shrink in anticipation of what was to come.

Impatience got the better of Sadiq's father, dragging his feet until he was inches away from his son. A hand hiked up and wasted lesser seconds to land on Sadiq's face, the action rigorous enough to almost push him to the floor.
Sadiq swayed but maintained his balance. This was the perfect time to be high and retaliate.

"Kai wani kalan wawa ne?"

The tears had already gathered, blurring Sadiq's view of the tiled floors.

"This is what you've chosen to do with your life?" Abi spread his arms in frustration. "Of all the things we've done for you, this is what you want to repay us with?"

Sadiq began to shake, clasping his hands in front of him, a sudden reaction Sadiq could not explain. The duo's heavy breaths filled the little space between them. Sadiq was conscious of the eyes on them. The drivers, workers. Could they do this somewhere more private? Could his father care a bit more about Sadiq's need to be hidden from naked eyes?

Abi could not read minds, he pointed a shaking finger at Sadiq's teary face. "You will pay me back that money. I am not wasting those millions on your useless shenanigans." He dropped the finger, aiming to leave but recalled an unaddressed topic. "Stay away from that girl. You're a loser that knows nothing of reputations, I don't care what you do with yours but do not smear mine black." He turned, walking to the front door.

Sadiq wanted to laugh despite the tears. A laugh of both anger and mock. "Says the man who lives off bribes." He muttered.

"Me kake cewa?"

Sadiq sniffed, "Babu."