Monday, 5 February 2018

Moment With Chilaka: What my Grandmother Taught me.

This morning, I was awoken by a call from my stepsister, 
"Aunty Amara. Aunty Amara, Mummy is not feeling fine. She's calling you," she called with a tender voice still thick with sleep.

I rose, robbed sleep off my eyes with my palms and headed outside the room only to see my Mother sitting on a pavement. When I got closer, I realized she had been vomitting. 
I didn't know that this woman has been vomitting for as long as I can't tell. 
I felt the skin on her neck and she was cold and after all pleas and shouts and pleas again, she agreed to come inside the room to lie down for a while.
I allowed her for a while before getting her a warm sachet of water to drink which she finished and began to vomit the more. I grew scared.

Not knowing the next thing to do, I gave her a bitter-cola to eat but she couldn't eat and afterwards, I gave her a bottle of Sprite which she drank almost half of it and began to vomit again. I grew scarier this time.

I watched her lie down breathing heavily and then I began to hear an ambulance sirene and the hairs on my skins began to stand in fear. 
They were ambulances from Aladinma mortuary.

"What if my Mother dies? What if she doesn't survive this?" Those were the negative questions playing painful games in my head. I tried as much as I could to delete them but they couldn't as I remembered my sister's story this morning - the story she told about the two dead bodies in a police van that drove past her on her way out yesterday. I began to say silent prayers.

Even though I annoy my Mother to the extent that she cries, even though sometimes when she has gotten me really angry, I tell her it's high time I went to find my biological Mother, I love this woman more than anything else in this world. Losing her has been my greatest fear. 
I kept praying silently until I remembered something. It was something my Grandmother taught me more than thirteen years ago or so.

My father had taken me in his car to Mbaise and there I felt sick.
My​ father bought me a pack of lucozade boost and peanut but it seemed it worsened my sickness. So, my grandmother left the room for her backyard where she plucked off some leaves of 'nchuanwu- scent leaves.' 
She washed them, put them in a kettle​, poured about two glasses of water into the kettle and allowed it to boil. 
Few minutes later, she poured it into a cup and gave me to drink. 
It wasn't long after I had gulped down the liquids that I began to sweat and was out already to play with my mates. I was well again and that medication never left my mind even this morning.

Because I have felt deeply sorry for a guy who once lived in Aladinma that was feeling very sick and had no money to buy drugs, I added​ 'onugbu - bitter leaf' to the medication. I washed the leaves and added the water to the 'nchuanwu' and it worked wonders on him.

After a while of battling with my fears, I asked my sister to get some scent and vegetable leaves which she did and did all as I instructed. 
Mother refused to drink at first but did when she had no other choice.

Now, I am watching this woman bite from the bone in her hand. She's biting and smiling and laughing and asking me to come and join her. But because it's the only thing she has taken since morning and because there's this happiness that has filled my heart just by watching her smile and laugh and talk again, I asked her to enjoy while I watch her from a hole. This was a woman who could neither sit nor stand not walk nor easily part her lips in the morning.

God is great. 
I'm very grateful, God. 
And, herbs works wonders.

1 comment:

  1. lol wonderful fiction but sounds real though so things like this happens in Africa?


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