EBOLA: THE RIPPLE EFFECT BY: Chidi @Chydee Okereke

 

BASED LOOSELY ON CURRENTLY HAPPENING EVENTS

20-07-2014

A tear dropped from his left eye as he thought about Anna again. How could she be dead? How? Anna, the best sister anyone could ever have. Anna, his only sister … who made so many sacrifices to ensure he went to college and become the man he is today.

Anna. Dead.

What is this life?

“Tea or coffee sir…?” Munachi – the air hostess – asked, snapping him out of his reverie. He dried his eyes and gestured towards coffee. He nodded his thanks as she gave it to him and went about her business.

He took a sip of the scalding hot beverage and didn’t even flinch. All he could think of was Anna and how he wept over her cold dead body. He had flown to Monrovia immediately he was told that she was seriously ill. The doctors had initially refused to allow him see her, saying it was unsafe, but one look at them and they obliged. Patrick was a big man. In Liberia and other African countries, big men always had their way.

That all seemed like years ago though. He had given her a quick burial and was now on his way back to Nigeria. He took another sip of the coffee and this time he felt as it burned his tongue. He let out a tiny whelp and dropped the mug. It shattered, spilling its content everywhere. He quickly made to pick up the shards, but cut his forefinger in the process. He put the finger in his mouth and sucked the blood as Munachi came to his aid.

“So sorry sir,” she apologized. “Are you alright?” she gestured towards his forefinger. He nodded, stood up, and went to the restroom.

The cut wasn’t too deep, but he had plenty of blood in him, so the red liquid flowed. He picked up a Kleenex and pressed on it. It became bloodied in seconds. He dropped the tissue in the toilet bowl and collected another. After the third Kleenex, the blood had almost stopped flowing. He pressed the knob and watched as the toilet flushed. He did not notice the tiny drops of blood he left on the knob. He turned on the tap, washed his hand and turned it off. He did not notice the blood he left on the tap head either. He dried his hand and left the toilet. Munachi had cleaned up when he got back to his seat. She offered another cup of coffee but he declined and, suddenly cold, he asked for a blanket instead. She obliged him – some of the perks of not flying economy class.

***

Bishop Samuel Ndah of Royal Diadem Ministries had gone to Monrovia to minister at the Liberian branch of his church. It was a power packed 3 day crusade that ended with miracles, signs, wonders, and some extra dollars in his off-shore bank account. He was going to Australia in two weeks to set up another branch there.

The ministry was seriously moving. The Lord is good.

He used the toilet a few minutes after Patrick did. Of cause he washed his hand thoroughly. One of his favorite quotes was ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness’, and as a Bishop of Christ, he always practiced what he preached. When he turned the tap head to close it though, he did not notice the drops of blood his fingers collected. He ate Kentucky Fried Chicken and Chips a few minutes later; chicken so good he licked his fingers afterwards, and washed it down with a bottle of the cold orange juice Munachi served him.

Two other business-class passengers used the toilet during the 165minutes flight.

***

Patrick was sweating when the plane landed at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos. He was sweating and shivering slightly. Munachi wanted to call the airport paramedics but he refused. He explained that he’d just buried his only sister and the past week had been hectic. It was probably fever with a shot of jet-lag. She obliged, called Aisha, her colleague, and they helped him disembark. He almost fell when they made to leave him on the tarmac. He steadied himself and told them he was fine. They left him and went back into the plane. He sort of staggered to the customs area and gave the immigration officer his passport.

The officer scrutinized Patrick’s travel papers and returned them to him. The Liberian was walking into the arrival lounge when he collapsed in a heap. It was like a joke. For a few seconds nobody reacted. Then somebody yelled and all hell broke loose.

“What happened to him? Who is he? How did it happen?” Everybody seemed to be asking at the same time as a small crowd gathered around Patrick. Jemila, an Airport security woman pushed her way through and asked everyone to back off. She checked his pulse and proceeded to give him CPR. She was doing the mouth to mouth resuscitation thing when paramedics arrived and put him on their stretcher. They took him straight to the Airport clinic, while somebody checked Patrick’s wallet for his ID. They found he was a Liberian and worked in the Liberian Embassy. They called the consulate and informed them that their countryman had collapsed in the Airport. The Liberian high commissioner immediately had him transferred to First Consultant Clinics, a private hospital at Obalende.

***

21-07-14

Dr Abdullah Isah, the Chief Medical Officer of First Consultants Hospital had just begun a complex 7 hours marathon surgery on a 13 year old boy’s lungs when Patrick was wheeled in. After the successful operation, he had taken a 6 hour break. When he came back, he started his usual ward rounds with Dr Abiye – the doctor on duty. They got to the Liberian’s ward and Dr Abiye gave his boss the man’s case file. A quick glance at it and he had an idea what was ailing the man. He pulled Dr Abiye to one side and told him in confidence what he suspected was the cause of Patrick’s ailment.

Ebola Virus.

Dr Abiye’s jaw dropped. “Jesus,” he exclaimed. “Jesus!” He had been at the waiting room when Patrick was wheeled in. He had checked his vitals and placed him on drips and stabilizers pending when a proper diagnosis was carried out. He had been in close contact with a probable carrier of the deadliest disease on earth at the moment. “Jesus!”

Dr Abdullah immediately had Patrick quarantined in a private ward. He also had every member of his staff who had been in close contact with the Liberian quarantined in another ward. He didn’t want to start a panic so he didn’t say why he was taking those measures. He just instructed the other staff not to go into those two wards without face masks, surgical gloves and disposable gowns. He called the Lagos State Ministry of Health and informed the receiver he might have a case of the Ebola Virus in his hospital. He was transferred to the commissioner of health himself who asked what had been done so far. He brought the big man up to speed and was told to maintain the status quo while the minister of health himself was informed.

Unfortunately Dr Abdullah was working with smart people. Someone put two and two together and the word ‘Ebola’ was mentioned. Less than twenty minutes later, the normally full waiting room was almost empty. Family and friends of patients who heard the rumors came and retrieved their wards. Non-Medical staff who didn’t want to risk being around a virus that dangerous suddenly became ill and asked for permission to go home. They had no plan to return until it was safe to do so.

The three nurses and two porters who were on duty when Patrick was wheeled in had gone home to their families before Dr Abdullah made his analysis. In the midst of the chaos, nobody remembered them.

Someone tweeted about the incidence, someone else retweeted it, and in minutes, the news went viral.

Ebola Virus was in Nigeria.

22-07-2-14

Munachi woke up with a nagging headache.

To be continued

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