6: Delivery

Jumoke

IT WAS ANOTHER Sunday evening, the kids were playing hide and seek while I laid on the couch in the veranda overlooking the compound, waiting for one of them to cry so I could have an excuse to beat both of them.

Someone pounded on the iron gates, each knock filled with more urgency than the last, the only person who could be at the gate was Emeka but his flight was delayed. It couldn't be someone I knew because I had no friends and I steered clear of any organizations in church, after all, they were only good for gossips and donations.

"Mummy, there's somebody at the gate," Ada breathed out, her chest rising and falling. "It's a boy, he said his name is Paul Franklin. Should I let him in?"

"Paul Franklin?" I muttered under my breath, trying to think of anybody I knew with that name but came up with nothing. "Where's your brother?"

"I don't know." Rocking on the ball of her feet, she slipped her thumb into her lips, offering me a cheeky grin when I shook my head in disapproval.

Strutting to the gate, I peeked from the square hole only to be blessed with the vision of the brown-eyed man. His smile widened when I unbolted the gates, one arm behind his back and the other outstretched for a handshake.

"Good evening, ma." He greeted, his hand returning to his pockets when mine remained by my side.

"Good evening, Paul Franklin?" The name sounded foreign but the grin on his face showed I was correct.

"Yes, just call me Franklin." He looked quite delighted to see me, "I haven't seen my walking partner in a while, so I wanted to be sure everything was alright." He explained when I kept staring at him in confusion. I was pleasantly surprised to note that not only did this handsome young man in front of me notice my absence but he was also genuinely concerned for my safety.

"Oh. I'm fine, thank you and your walking partner's name is Jumoke." I offered, an appreciative smile playing at the corner of my lips. I was overcome by an unexpected rush of emotions, the need to socialise, talk to someone that wasn't Kunle, Emeka or less than six years of age.

"Do you want to come in?" I queried in a high-pitched voice, maybe I didn't have to wait another four weeks before I started making friends.

He hesitated for less than a second, his eyes sweeping over the house and with a non-committal shrug, we walked into the duplex together.

**********

"It's not that one, Ada," Franklin proffered, we were all seated on the marble floor in the parlour, the remaining pieces of the Lego building set lying in between us.

He was trying to assist Ada in building a house but she kept giving him pieces of the same blue colour; she was more concerned about constructing something with a single shade than the colourful house Franklin was insistent on creating.

"She's really stubborn," he mouthed to me, affirming a fact I already knew. I laughed at his expense as he finally surrendered to Ada; it was a lost battle from the start.

Now, that I knew Franklin was the last child of Mama Dorcas, the widow who lived in the next apartment, the protective wall surrounding my heart had crumbled, replaced with a familiarity that came with having someone you could trust. His mother was a gossip mill, the reason we never got along in the first place but I was glad to be friends with her son.

His school, Ahmadu Bello University, was on an indefinite strike and a part of me hoped it stayed that way. Our mutual interest in the field of accounting made our conversations refreshing, his unending tales from his days as a Director of socials forever keeping us entertained. Plus, the time spent talking to him and sometimes his girlfriend kept me from spamming Kunle.

"I wanted to be the first one to give you a present before the baby arrives," his voice interrupted my daydream, his fingers reaching for a package in his back pocket.

On closer inspection, I found out it was a pouch - a mobile sports armband that I could wrap around my arms with my phone in it whenever I went jogging or walking. Though we never had any deep conversation, he was aware that I wanted to lose weight.

"And it's waterproof too," he added cheerfully when tears continued trickling down my cheeks. I wanted to speak but I couldn't find the right words, suddenly overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. It was the little things like this that mattered and I knew now that no amount of words could express my gratitude.

Grinning sheepishly at him with my hands outstretched for a hug - the first of our body contact, I felt a sensation of wetness in my vagina which was quickly followed by a gush of liquid that permeated the gown I was wearing.

My water just broke.

"I need to get to the hospital now," I whispered to Franklin who had frozen at the sight of the pale-yellow liquid that seeped from me onto the floor. "Call Kunle," I barked out when he remained unmoving.

My words seemed to have spurred him into action because he hurriedly reached for my phone, his fingers moving rapidly over my phone screen before disappearing from the sitting room. Biting down on trembling lips to keep from screaming and scaring the children who were still unaware of my predicament, I forced myself to think of Chime as a baby, the first few minutes after his delivery; he had also been a few days earlier than his due date.

"Ada?" A head full of curls turned in my direction, "your sister wants to come out, can you get the baby bag in my room?"

No sooner did she leave the parlour when the door burst open to reveal a worried-looking Kunle and a panicked Franklin. Without a word, Kunle hoisted me up, his hand around my shoulder with my whole weight pressing down on him as we made our way outside to his car.

I couldn't blame him for not carrying me, I couldn't even carry myself.

Ada reappeared with the baby's bag in one hand and the other keeping Chime from rushing to me. Franklin retrieved the saddlebag from her, dumping it into the backseat of Kunle's car before scooping Chime into his arms.

"Mummy. You are sick." He said childishly, his small face contorted in worry. It was such an amazing sight but I was in too much pain to dwell on that.

Slipping into the passenger's seat, I offered them a weak smile, thankful to be surrounded by the most important people in my life right now. I spared a glance at Kunle whose knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove at a neck-breaking speed, ignoring curses from passengers who screamed at him when he switched lanes.

"Kunle," I breathed out, overcome by a sharp pain across my belly. There was a sticky liquid on my thigh which slowly travelled slowly down my legs and somehow, I knew it was blood. A wave of fear overtook me, dread for my baby that wasn't supposed to be out until two weeks' time and my heart thundered violently against my rib cage.

My eyes began to droop as I muttered a weak prayer of protection, unable to identify the name of the hospital Kunle just drove in to due to blurred vision.

The next few minutes were a mixture of screams, whispers and hurried movements; I felt various hands on my body as they carefully lifted me to a stretcher, ignoring the distinct voice that repeatedly shouted, "keep your eyes open."

**********

Peeling my eyelids open, I was greeted by the sight of a man in gloves and face mask; he wasn't alone but I was too tired to care.

He stroked my head soothingly, his eyebrow furrowing as he peered down at me. "Your baby is not receiving oxygen; we will need to perform an operation now."

His voice sounded urgent and I fought through the drowsiness to stay awake, "we will insert a needle through your back, you will feel a sharp pain which will be gone in a heartbeat but please, do not close your eyes."

They made me sit up and I felt a prickle at my back which was gone almost as soon as it came. Next, was the anaesthesia which numbed me from the waist down; the instruction of the doctors weighed down on me but my eyelids felt too heavy and my body was weak, desperately asking me to take a few seconds nap.

I closed my eyes before I could hear or see my baby cry.

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