The Falomo's Journey

Source: Gemini AI

Sometimes we get scared, scared that we are inadequate, insufficient, as some determinants suggest. Afraid of what we cannot control leaving behind what we can control. Carefully following the lyrics of a music when we can, actually, create our own. Drifting along railway tracks with another direction in mind.

Hmm! We are scared to make a move because we envisage that our will can't be done. Why not just let things drift in another order? Why not try other options? There is no single way to building a house. These thoughts were floating in the mind of Mrs. Falomo as she carefully sat down on the sitting sofa in the dining area.

All of a sudden, her phone, commonly called “tan ino so o be” (which means “direct the light to the soup”), rang so loudly, as if it were rapture time. She checked to see who was calling. It was Dr. Dada Mayowa of LASUTH (Lagos State University Teaching Hospital).

“How is my husband?” she asked.

The doctor sighed. “We need you here in the evening to discuss one or two things before we proceed to remove the tumour.”

She responded, “Alright, sir.”

It happened that Mr. Falomo, a renowned business man, had been battling with epilepsy often called 'Warapa" for a long time. However, a recent MRI scan showed that he had a pituitary tumour. Though, she knew less about it but that incident and social media educated her about the disease. Mrs. Falomo was a strong beliver; though not a violent religious fanatic. Mrs. Falomo had told her pastor, who advised her not to operate and to wait for divine intervention. She thought of flowing with the drift of life, believing that epilepsy (Warapa) needed a spiritual intervension.

Deep down, she fought with thoughts like: Won’t people say that I caused this misfortune? Her husband’s family had been battling with her for a while now, to the extent of calling her a w*tch.

The issues of life had put her in such a situation. Though many people call such disease rich men disease. That is it affect only the wealthy which is absolutely wrong.

All of a sudden, her children, Taiwo, Kehinde, and Tolulope, restless and excited, ran to her shouting, “Mummy! Mummy! Mummy! We want to see Daddy!”

She tried to smile and made them smile too.

Immediately, she told them not to worry, they would be seeing Papa soon. They all shouted, “Yay!” She told Tolulope, the outspoken one, to get themselves dressed.

She soon got herself dressed, and they headed downstairs toward the car park. They lived in Banana Island, Lekki. Due to their status, they were disposed to private hospitals where adequate, though expensive, care was provided. However, government hospitals had more experienced specialists. As such, he was transferred there.

As soon as she stepped out of the gate, her maid, miss Chisom told her to be strong.

She nodded while looking in the direction of the main road.

On her way to the hospital her chidren were active.

Trees, flowers, filling stations... They kept screaming in excitement.

“Tolulope, look at your favourite power bike, Suzuki!” Mrs. Falomo pointed.

“Wooow! Power bike! Power bike! Power bike! Power bike!”
They sang in synchrony.

At the hospital, she met the doctor and signed all the necessary documents. One could see that she was emotional. She paid for everything required, and her kids spoke to their father, Mr. Falomo. She had to make a massive decision; however, it did not show. She masked up all courage and did the impossible.

She kissed her husband, and the loud silence showed how much they loved each other.

Mr. Falomo called his wife by her real name: “Desire, ma ro nu o,” which means “Do not think.” She nodded as tears flowed in rivulets, streaming down her face.

The doctor said they were set for the surgery the next day, and she nodded again. Her husband kept telling her to have faith, that they had already won.

The next day, she was at the hospital by 6:00 a.m., without her kids.

When the surgery started, a red light turned on at the theatre which meant that the surgery had begun. It was not two hours, not three hours. Various thoughts kept coming, but she held on to the good ones.

For all she cared, her grumbling stomach was the least of her worries. She patiently and silently imagined the red light turning green. Nurses who knew of her predicament often told her that her husband was getting better whenever she inquired.

The red light had not even stopped. She tried to peep through, but never caught a glimpse of the theatre operations..

After fourteen hours, the surgery was completed. However, she could not see her husband immediately. After waiting for about a day, she finally saw him, with little to no stitches on his face. After two weeks, he was regaining strength.

They picked a Sunday for thanksgiving, where she invited family and friends.

On that occasion, he described his wife as a fighter, one who stands strong when the fight is tough, and whose silence during hard times is a sign of victory.

“Cheers to the Falomos!” the MC said.

Thank you for reading my story.

Listening to people’s stories gives one stories to tell. Don’t be deaf to the stories around you, listen and become wiser.

Thanks once more.