The year 2024 is only just beginning for me. I mean that in a figurative way of course, even if a good chunk of it is quite literal. On the 10th of January, I was involved in a very bad car crash in Maitama, Abuja, minutes after I’d driven out to buy fruits at Farmer’s Market. I was bruised, concussed, and sustained some wounds on my head, shoulder and leg. I was taken to a nearby hospital, where I was examined and cleaned up, then handed paracetamol and vitamin C and sent my merry way home. The pain was on a whole new height, but I slept it away, and woke up to a fever that worsened over the next few days. New levels of fear were also unlocked. Because I had gone to a major Abuja hospital for tests and scans to rule out anything internal, I also tossed into the mix a malaria test, which came out positive. I began treatment for malaria, even as my MRI and CT Scans showed no need to worry. I was wrong.
My condition worsened, and I switched hospitals to a very ‘high-end’ one, and on the last the day of an outpatient malaria treatment, my temperature was so bad that I was rushed to Emergency, where I was put on oxygen, and all kinds of paraphernalia I cannot recollect were strapped on me. Through all this, family, friends, and even colleagues hovered over me anxiously and worriedly, even as their faces were a blur. A couple of days later, after an x-ray, scans and tests had been carried out, I was admitted in a room. By then, doctors had discovered I had a lung infection which was a result of the blunt force trauma I suffered during my crash. A cocktail of antibiotics – some quite exotic-sounding – were administered, as slowly my appetite waned, and some side effects began to wreak havoc on my now-weakened body. I suffered this for two weeks, even as I thought I would die.
I was discharged, and given a ‘party favour’ bag filled with follow-up medications and a long list of do’s and don’ts. After a week and what was meant to be a solid recuperation, things took a downward turn and my health nosedived again. At this point, my family insisted I should instead be checked into a hospital in Kaduna where I would receive better treatment under their watchful eyes and care. And that was exactly what happened, even as I spent roughly four weeks on a hospital bed, receiving treatment, and occasionally, even blood. Finally, the worst of it was over, and my body was on a path to full recovery, enough for me to be discharged. Again, I was wrong. Apparently, all that time on a bed with little or no ambulatory movement had caused, of all things, a blood clot. After a confirmatory Doppler test, treatment commenced. As I was introduced to blood thinners, on which I still am.
I paid little attention to a great deal of things during the worst of those days, and even major national issues would come and go without my notice. I was, after all, battling for my very life, in a most literally figurative manner. But I still noticed – via chatter from visitors and hospital staff – the swift and constant upward movement of prices of everything in Nigeria, and the way the citizenry’s collective mood took a nosedive. As a commentator on these things, I should take joy in an abundance of topics, but as a human being, it is just heartbreaking to see a people with so much promise face so much strife and suffering. But I’ll not digress much, and will save my saliva, as they say, for next week. In a way, the period of my being incapacitated and the time of my illness all served in positioning a lot of things in proper perspective – personal or otherwise – some of which I will share as the weeks go by.
Many people will be finding out about my last five months here, and will naturally feel a certain way about not having been informed. To such persons, I tender unreserved apologies. My explanation is simple: I was simply in no position to pick up the phone and send individual messages, even as I also did not want to share the misery round, until there is at least some good news. To everyone – and I cannot stress ‘everyone’ nearly enough – who visited me at the hospital(s), checked up on me at home, and called or messaged, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude, and to let you all know that your concern contributed greatly to my courage during the darkest days of that period, and helped mightily in my recovery. May Allah SWT reward you, and may you receive as much concern and care as you showed me when needed. And in case you missed me and this column, and you are wondering when it is coming back, my response to that would be ‘Yes, I’m back’. Alhamdulillah.
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