Half Moon Whisper

Ogundele Toyin

Description

'Half Moon Whisper' is a chequered story of Temitope, a single parent vulcanized by life's vicissitude and circumstances engineered by men, prominent among whom are Teni and Jordan, the two men in her life.

The narrative also features her three-year old daughter, Princess, forced into adulthood in a hurry.

Sujets

• One half
• Whisper
• Moon

Informations

• Publié par: Publiseer
• Date de parution: 21 août 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9788828377931
• Langue: English

Extrait

Half Moon Whisper
by
Ogundele Toyin
Copyright 2017 by Ogundele Toyin.
For more information about the author, write to the author from [e-mail].
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or the publisher.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PREFACE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEDICATION

T HIS BOOK IS DEDICATED to my best friend and Grand Instructor, Jehovah God Almighty, for His infinite grace, and His guidance.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I WOULD LIKE TO ACKNOWLEDGE , with a deep sense of gratitude, the cherished input of everyone who contributed towards the publication of this book; especially my beloved parents, Mr and Mrs P.A Ogundele
Thank you very much. God bless you. Amen.
PREFACE

H ALF MOON WHISPERS is a chequered story of Temitope, a single parent vulcanized by life s vicissitude and circumstances engineered by men, prominent among whom are Teni and Jordan, the two men in her life. The narrative also features her three-year old daughter, Princess, forced into adulthood in a hurry.
- Folu Agoi
Chairman, Association of Nigerian Authors, Lagos Branch (2004 - 2007)
CHAPTER ONE

T HE TIME WAS 6.45 PM ; the date, Wednesday December 13th 1995. The clouds seemed to be sauntering back home, much unlike most people in the densely populated city scampering around various markets, making last-minute shopping in preparation for the forthcoming Christmas and New Year festivities. Though most of the fifteen million inhabitants of the archetypal 21st century African city lived below the poverty line, virtually every one of them was involved in a rat race to celebrate Christmas and New Year s day in grand style. The two days of the Yuletide were considered unique in the city. No matter how poor the economy was, each family ensured that there were special meals, mostly rice and chicken, at least on those two days. For many children, especially those from wealthy homes, Christmas meant latest cell phone sets, new trendy clothes, shoes, bags, spectacles, wristwatches, jewellery and sundry accessories. The Christmas season was a period when
everyone, including the downtrodden, exhausted their income on foodstuffs, fashion, and visits to friends and relatives. Other indices of Christmas in the city were special seasonal phone ring tones, carols, images of the generous Santa Claus, decorated streets parading newly-painted houses, and neon lights adorning dusty roads.
It was the second anniversary of her traumatic experienced. Tope struggled for comfort as she recalled the date on her sick bed.
I m so sorry, boy; it was my fault, she soliloquised, writhing in pain. She held on to the bedspread with which she wrapped herself. She gnashed her teeth and buried her face in the fluffy pillow. Her eyes were sore from crying.
Early in the morning on the next day, the 14th, Tope lay on her bed, still mumbling her regrets, when a senior doctor approached her with her regular prescribed medication, which she would have refused were it not for the intervention of the two assistant nurses in the ward.
Take it easy, Tope; the drug will cool your nerves and make you relax better, said the Doctor with a smile. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and lifted the syringe in his hand to determine the actual quantity of the drug.
It won t hurt you, said one of the assistant nurses flanking the doctor. She held a service tray which contained a glass of water and some tablets.
You will be fine in no time, she assured as the patient groaned and struggled to break loose from the other lady s grip. The doctor managed to administer the injection and then placed the cup of water together with the tablets on the small table near her bed.
Please rest awhile, and take the drugs. Everything will soon be all right. He comforted her as he dropped the used syringe into the tray and requested for the medical register. After studying the register and making some remarks, he placed it on the patient desk beside Tope s bed. As he made to leave, he flinched at the sight of a young man being ushered into the ward. Jordan, his nephew, was the last person he had expected to see in his office that morning. Jordan was in his early thirties, ebony, tall and good-looking. He wore a pink short-sleeved cotton shirt on black jeans trousers. The alligator-leather shoes he wore and the black locally made suede bag he bore were a perfect match. Leaning against the doorframe for support, he managed to greet his uncle, after adjusting his stiff neck.
Good morning, uncle.
Oh, Jordan. It s you! How did you get here? asked Dr Majekodunmi.
I m so delighted to see you, replied Jordan.
Why don t you wait in my office. I will be with you in a few minutes, said the doctor with a smile. He got out of the ward and entered another ward where many patients had been waiting for him. He drew close to an aged patient, placed his antiquated stethoscope over his chest and asked,
How are you today?
I m getting better.
Any more pains? Did you sleep very well? Have you taken your medication today?
Verbal communication was getting extremely difficult for the patient, so he nodded his responses to the doctor s questions. When he came out of the ward, he met Jordan where he had left him.
Aren t you supposed to be waiting in my office?
I didn t feel comfortable staying in that large office with those scary medical apparatus! replied Jordan.
Doctor! Doctor! A voice echoed across the passage demanding his immediate attention.
There is an emergency here, doctor!
Tope was still clutching Sarah s uniform when he got there.
Calm down Tope, I m already here, said the doctor. Calm down, and take your drugs.
He turned around and shouted at the attendants to prepare her injection on time, as he gently pulled her hand off Sarah s uniform.
Stop it, you pack of idiots! She screamed, fighting hysterically. Not this time again! You can t inject that into my body. As she fought like a possessed bull, the medical personnel in the ward drew back. They eventually overpowered her, with the assistance of Jordan who pinned her against the old iron bed, while the doctor gave her an injection that sent her to sleep.
Her situation is so pathetic, noted Jordan, as he released her hands when she became calm. What s wrong with her? He asked, still panting.
The doctor offered some explanation and concluded, It will become a permanently behavioural disorder unless an urgent action is taken. Looking straight into Jordan s eyes, he said, If not for you, we would still be struggling with her now. He then grabbed his right hand, shook him vigorously as he patted him affectionately.
When they got to the front of his office, Dr Majekodunmi dipped his right hand into his trouser pocket and brought out a bunch of keys. After searching for a while, he recognised the right key and inserted it into the keyhole. The knob was not in place, so the inserted key also played the role of the knob. He turned the key to the left twice and pushed the door in. Once inside, he sank into his seat, and dropped his stethoscope on top of the outgoing files on the large table. He motioned Jordan to a seat, shortly after which Jordan set off their conversation.
First, you need to examine me too. I sleep less these days. On many occasions, I stay awake all through the night. I sometimes sleep with my legs straddled on the wall, or lie on the floor till daybreak.
Insomnia! Exclaimed his uncle. You overwork yourself everyday. You shouldn t allow anyone to convert you into a machine. With that he shot up from his seat and examined his eyes closely. He held up his nephew s head and widened both eyes with his fingers.
I said it! He grunted and walked back to his seat.
What? Jordan asked.
From where Dr Majekodunmi sat, he stretched his hand forth and pulled out a box, which looked like a small cupboard. Thereafter he brought out some packets of drugs, selected two sachets of tablets and handed them to him. He then prescribed a few other drugs to complement the available ones. Make sure you use them as prescribed, and read the instructions very carefully; but if you don t feel any changes after a couple of days, give me a call.
Jordan thanked him and made to leave, folding the prescription slip and the sachets roughly into his chest pocket. He took his bag, which had been on the table, and brought out some printed documents which he gave the doctor, as a token of his gratitude for his commitments and hard work. The items were said to be from Forth Foundation, in conjunction with Royal Hoods.
This is too much, said Dr Majekodunmi, after going through the documents thoroughly. He leaned over the table, sighed, and asked, But why did they change the accounts?
For improvement... That s what I think, since I m not the one who takes the decisions. The board takes the decisions... Please sir, I would need two porters to assist with the materials. They are in my car. I will send them to you.
He got up, hung his bag on his left shoulder, and made to leave. I have to leave now, sir, said Jordan.
We really appreciate your