After Christmas, 2005...

Mike was staying at Ulo's and I spoke to him. He said that he had been surrounded with love from my family and he was very grateful. He told me that the MD of Sosoliso Airlines had asked for a private meeting and that Chidi, Ulo's husband would go with him. It had been a long, eventful day...

“O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good; for his mercy endureth forever.” - 1 Chronicles 16:34 (KJV)

The day after Christmas, December 26th, I woke up around 4am with severe stomach cramps. I had no idea what was going on, so I just prayed and tried to go back to sleep. Apparently, I succeeded because next thing I knew, it was morning and I woke up with a calm stomach and a song on my lips. Then followed a period of praise, worship and thanksgiving. Dorothy joined me and gratitude just poured out of us. It was wonderful. We marveled at the grace of God and how He is lifted up, exalted and magnified through the miracle of Kechi's life.

I received a call from my mom as we left for the hospital. She told me that she was going to take Tara and her best friend, Kamara, to the cinema. I was so grateful to my family. They had been with me from the word go, an awesome support group.

When we got to the hospital, we were told that Kechi's surgery had been moved to the next day. Kechi was even more active that morning, moving her legs and head around. The sister told us that Kechi had started to resist them when they tried to turn her over to clean her. They believed that it was because she was in pain. They had also noticed that she kept moving her lips,  trying to say something, as if she was aware of what was going on around her.

This made me even more determined to continue to explain to her in detail everything going on with her body.

At some point during the visit, Dorothy became very concerned about the noise the nurses in the ICU were making. They constantly gathered to talk quite loudly, making the unit very noisy. We agreed that this was probably not the way any ICU should be run. Dorothy decided to write about it and drop it in the suggestion box but I did not intend to complain until I saw negligence in the way Kechi was being cared for, and I had not seen that yet. The way I saw it, medical staff had to have some kind of armor against all the death and near-death they saw constantly. So long as Kechi was being well taken care of and they answered my numerous questions, even when I was sure they thought I was being a nuisance, I was fine.

I had handed everything over to God, including the care- givers, and I knew He was in control of Kechi's life.

Christmas Day, 2005, Part 4...

Kechi appeared to be much more aware, opening her left eye, obviously trying to focus, and mouthing something that, knowing Kechi, looked like “Mummy”.

I responded at once, telling her I was there. Then it occurred to me that if Kechi was coming out of sedation, she would be very confused, and would be wondering where she was, and what was going on with her body. I began to explain to her where she was, why she was not able to talk and how she had been in an accident. This was the start of something I continued until Kechi came off the coma. Besides, Kechi was always the kind of person who needed to know exactly what was going on.

Later that evening, Brother Dotun and his family came and took me to their fellowship at Hillbrow. I had not heard good things about that area of Johannesburg, but it was nice to fellowship among the brethren once again.

I was fifteen minutes late for the evening visit, but Kechi appeared to be fine and was still moving her legs and eyes. I asked the matron on duty if that would cause her any harm and she said no, it was actually a good sign. It meant that she would find it easier to move at the end of her stay in ICU, or when she had to be weaned off the heavy-duty drugs she was on at that time.

Mom called that night and she had Chizitara with her for the Christmas holidays.

We had all agreed not to tell her anything about Kechi so she believed that Kechi and I had to travel to Lagos together for Kechi to take an exam. But people talked around her and she was beginning to piece things together. Mom decided it was time to tell her the truth, especially since neither Kechi nor I were in Lagos when she got there. Mom said she told her that Kechi had an accident and was badly hurt and so I had to take her to a big hospital in South Africa. Tara then wanted to speak with Kechi and Mom told her Kechi was still too weak but she could speak to her later.

I spoke to Tara then and she thanked me for the things I bought for her. I reassured her that her sister was going to be fine. Mom told me not to worry about Tara. But something that could only be of God had been happening. It was as if God wiped Tara out from my mind. If I ever dwelt on her for a single moment, the pain of leaving her behind would have be too much. So it was as if God was saying to me, concentrate all your energies on Kechi, I am taking care of Tara. I did not for one moment worry about Tara...

To be continued...

Christmas Day, 2005 Part 3...

Kechi was such a tactile person that she always used to hug and hold onto me as often as she could throughout the day. To be with her and not be able to touch and hug her had been so hard for me and I really cherished that moment. She responded by moving her legs. I remembered that she is very ticklish, though, and after some time I stopped because her pulse rate was going up. 

It was beyond thrilling to be able to touch Kechi even a little, when I yearned to hold her in my arms and soothe away her pains. I gave God glory for that opportunity. Dorothy jokingly said that she hoped I was not going to faint from touching Kechi. It was a special moment. 

When  we  got  back  to  the  hotel,  Dorothy  treated  us  to Christmas lunch. It was a buffet and we had far too much to eat. After lunch, Magdalene, Layi and her husband, Francis, Ifeoma Nwosa and her husband, along with two of their friends from Zambia and Zimbabwe came for a visit. We all sat at the hotel lobby, praying and singing. It was wonderful. Ifeoma and Magdalene brought food which we kept for supper.

Then Magdalene took me aside. “Ijeoma, “she asked me, “Are you mourning your daughter?” I was startled. “No!” “Then why do you go around looking like you are? Why don't you do up your hair nicely? Why are you not wearing lipstick? Why are you not looking like a woman who is celebrating God's gift to her?” She reminded me that she had cancer and yet people who did not already know would never guess. She told me to powder my face, put on my make up, and celebrate God, Who had done so much for me. I was deeply moved and thanked her.

When we went back to the hospital that evening, Dorothy and I were wearing makeup...

To be continued...