The Plea On Oath

By LORNAMARIE

‘The Plea on Oath’ is a story of a bright and gifted boy…. will have you gripped, inspiring, powerful, intensive story as you read about how the boy grew up to become a Doctor, a thriller of his own hard work but not so much to show for it as he struggled and battled his notorious addiction to gambling with adverse consequences leaving a vacuum………..the author keeps you in suspense as the intriguing story unfolds…… Segun lived his life like a ‘Candle in the Wind’ with his struggle and fight back from the edge of death, his recovery and then back to the unavoidable end....... Doctors are human......and so are we all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781471060137

Book preview

Chapter 1

Who Did This?

…………………………………………………………

It was the year that Segun turned sixty years old. He decided not to have a big birthday celebration as he usually would, choosing to keep it quiet this year. It was the beginning of summer; he was having a lovely time at home with his wife Temitope. He had commenced his counselling sessions, and so far, he hadn’t missed his classes. He was putting all the advice to use, and his addiction was becoming more controlled than ever before. He had also gone back to his full-time job as a consultant gynaecologist in the hospital where he worked in Southern Dallas.

Over the last few years, a group of youths had been coming around to an area a few yards from Segun’s house. The group of youths played gun shooting. The noise would wake neighbours up, becoming a nuisance. Since Temitope felt that they had lived in the area for quite some time, it was safe and it was not necessary to move out.

Ona very cold winter’s night in December, Segun and Temitope had gone to work as usual and returned from work as usual, coming home to a nice dinner. Temitope had arrived earlier and spent the early part of the evening roasting lamb and potatoes with some Yorkshire gravy. They were going to have Segun’s favourite pepper soup and stock fish stew for their starter on the menu. Rhubarb crumble and custard were on the table for their pudding. Finally, they settled down to dinner.

I’m surprised you still have all the energy to cook us a good meal after you’ve worked so hard throughout the day, Segun said.

You know I love cooking, darling. If I wasn’t a doctor, then another career that I might have considered is as a chef. Food is one of the joys of living, you know?

"Yeah, I know … thank you, darling, and I love eating your food. I forgot to tell you about last Monday when I settled down in the doctor’s lounge at work to microwave the packed lunch you gave me. At lunchtime, the smell of the jerk chicken, rice, peas and coleslaw filled the lunch room and one of my colleagues—you know him, Mark Darwin—asked if that food was left over from Sunday’s dinner and I nodded back in affirmation. I wonder how he worked it out that I sometimes have my leftover dinner from Sunday on Mondays because they taste nice.

Really? So, Mark is keeping an eye on your food. What is he on about, cheeky Mark? replied Temitope, with happiness emanating from the tone of her voice. She liked the positive comments made on her cooking.

But honestly, we really do eat good food in this house, don’t we?

Hmmmm, yes we do, despite all odds, she replied. And guess what? I am planning dinner for us next Sunday, but only if I have energy left after returning from Church.

Okay, what are you planning to cook, Doctor Temitope? he asked, a cheeky look on his face.

Okay, I am thinking of cooking either your favourite stock fish stew with rice, or perhaps spaghetti Bolognese, garlic bread with pear tart for pudding, or maybe just lamb balti and steamed rice with pineapple cake and custard for pudding.

Hmmmmm, that would be nice. Okay, since I have choices to pick from, I will opt for stock fish stew with steamed rice or even jollof rice. You know how much I love my Nigerian jollof rice—it is simply delicious and sumptuously yummy. It’s already very mouth- watering! Segun replied joyfully.

After having a very good dinner that night, they both listened to the news before calling it a day and going to bed.

After so many years of living in their lovely terrace, the couple decided to move to a smaller bungalow house, with fewer rooms, to cut down cost. Segun’s gambling was costly and making life difficult. He’d been out of order a number of times regarding constant visits to the casinos, causing disagreements between the couple. Financial strain is inevitable for any family with a gambler on board. He threw temper tantrums at his wife when she refused him touching their life savings. He sulked like a child due to his desperation to visit casinos to bet away his family resources and ‘hard-earned’ money. He no longer had control over his wastage.

The new bungalow had helped to cut down the cost of bills generally, but the downside to Southern Dallas was that group of youths playing gun a few yards away from a green park where their bungalow was. This had been going on for the last five years nonstop, so there had been no cause for concern. However, on the dreadful night in question, when the couple had returned from work and gone to bed, they heard shooting from a far distance—but that had been a usual occurrence for some time.

Temitope had switched off the lights in the bedroom and living room. Segun had retired into the bedroom, but at around 2:00 am, he woke up to go to the toilet. Temitope heard a loud voice groaning, ‘What struck me?!’ She felt like she was enacting a horror film as she rushed out of their bedroom to find her husband had been struck by a bullet right next to his heart. He was slumped down on the floor of the toilet, holding his bleeding chest. He was crying in his own pool of blood, ‘T-t-t … eeeemiiii! Please, help meeee…!’

His wife looked around to find the hole in the window through which the bullet had entered their toilet and struck her husband down. Still confused, she nevertheless managed to call 911. She was trembling on the phone. When the ambulance arrived, Segun had lost so much blood that he fell into a coma on the way to the hospital.

The group of youths playing shooting drills were yet to be confirmed as having killed another innocent person in Dallas. It had happened so many times before. This time, a black doctor was their victim. But we could not conclude on that as there was still a bit of life inside Segun: until the medical doctors said otherwise, at the moment, he remained alive.

In trauma, Temitope picked up the landline phone—this was a time before mobile phones. She had to go into the living room to pick up the phone from its cradle to use it, leaving Segun on the floor in the pool of his own blood. The bleeding  did not  stop: the bullet  had pierced through his chest area.

Temitope could only remember speaking to someone, but not what she said. As soon as she dropped the phone, she ran back to Segun.

Kneeling, she felt his pulse and put her ear on his chest. Her hair was in disarray. She placed her hand on his head and pushed his tresses backwards. The blood gushing out of Segun’s chest was all over Temitope’s long hair. She pressed her ear over his chest, the blood all over his body and her hair and ear. She wanted to hear him breathing, tried to resuscitate him mouth to mouth. Nothing seemed to be working. It is harder for a doctor to practice their profession on a family member under the direst circumstance. She was horrified.

She burst into tears, holding her head in her hands as though it had suddenly become too heavy for her slim neck to bear. She cried out, Wake up, Segun! Please, wake up! Don’t do this to me…! Please, don’t do this to me. Wake up, Segun, wake uuuuup! she shouted as she ran her hands through her hair again, slapped her head, then spread her arms,  rubbing her eyes  with  the  back of  her hand as though she could see the toilet walls spinning round, tilted. She turned around to look at Segun again as his body was turning cold. She kept on slapping her head. It was three in the morning. The ambulance was yet to arrive. Tears flowed down from her eyes until her tear glands had all dried up. She could not scream again, her energy drained. She just kept on hitting herself—her breast, her head, thigh, and face.

When the ambulance men and women  finally came, they walked straight into the house through the front door. One lady pulled Temitope away from Segun’s body … taking her to the corridor to comfort her while carefully asking her about what had happened exactly. She had her husband’s blood on her body.

The ambulance men had Segun’s body on the stretcher within seconds, and straight into the ambulance before speeding off to the hospital accident and emergency unit. Temitope was also in the ambulance, crying the whole time throughout the journey from her house to the hospital.

Once at the hospital, Temitope could see people moving up and down the corridor with heels clicking, some speaking, as bodies pushed past hers. As a medical doctor herself, she was used to the hospital environment, but she felt completely helpless when her own Segun was the one lying down lifeless on a stretcher at the mercy of doctors and nurses in white coats. She looked like the patient for a change. She did not know where she got the strength to walk into the emergency ward as the matron nursing sister came forward, addressing her as Doctor Temitope and respectfully led her from the ward into a private room where doctors always had private conversations with the families of outpatients in critical condition. The matron offered her a seat as she referred to a file in her hands. Opening the documents in front of her she said, Dr Segun is still being examined to see if there is anything we can do to save his life. He is currently in coma.

Immediately, Temitope felt as if the ground under her feet had just been pulled away, and  that  she was  standing in the  heavy cloud above thin air. No words uttered by anyone could keep her from falling into the pit that had opened up below her.

In a confused state, she headed straight into the hospital library to read up some medical books on being in coma. She jumped into the car and jammed in the ignition key, gripped the steering wheel, and stared at the people walking up and down the sunny parking space as if to say it was silly to call a day like this just any other normal day or to see things as business as usual. No, but rather she would call this day a doomsday.

Once inside the medical library, she began to flip through the pages of medical books. For one thing, it helped her deal with the current tragic circumstances that had hit her and Segun without any notice. Without the modern conveniences of the internet, books in the library or at home were the main sources of information, and most doctors used their hospital library to read up about their cases.

Usually, someone who is in a coma will not respond to voices, other sounds, or any sort of activity going on nearby. The person is still alive, but the brain is functioning at its lowest stage of alertness. You can’t shake and wake up someone who is in a coma, like you can someone who has just fallen asleep.

Comas can be caused by severe injury to the head that hurts the brain, seizures, infections involving the brain, brain damage caused by a lack of oxygen for too long, an overdose (taking too much) of medicine or other drugs, a stroke, and chemical imbalances (in the body from other illnesses).

When one of these things happens, it can mess up how the brain’s cells work. This impairs the parts of the brain that make someone conscious, and if those parts stop working, the person will stay unconscious.

Someone in a coma usually needs to be cared for in the intensive care unit (ICU) of the hospital. Temitope was reminded from the library books why her husband Segun was in the ICU, where he was getting extra care and attention from doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff. They made sure that he got fluids, nutrients, and any medicines needed to keep his body as healthy as possible. These were sometimes given through a tiny plastic tube inserted in a vein or through a feeding tube that brought fluids and nutrients directly to the stomach.

Segun was now comatose and unable to breathe on his own, needing the help of a ventilator, a machine that pumped air into his lungs through a tube placed in the windpipe. The hospital staff also tried to prevent bedsores on him, typically a result of lying in one place for too long without moving at all.

It can be very upsetting and frustrating for a person’s family to see someone they love in a coma, and they may feel scared and helpless. But they can help take care of the person. Taking time to visit the hospital and read to, talk to, and even play music for the patient is

important because it’s possible that the person may be able to hear what’s going on, even if he or she can’t respond.

Temitope was hoping that Segun’s coma would not last more than a few weeks. Sometimes, however, a person stays in a coma for a long time—even years—and will be able to do very little except breathe on his or her own.

Most people do come out of comas and Temitope was hoping that Segun would eventually come out of it. Some people are able to return to  their normal  lives before they got  sick or involved in a sudden accident as Segun had. Is this going to be the case  with Segun? Temitope asked herself in the hospital medical library. Is Segun going to survive and come out of the coma? Or is he going to be in a vegetative state for months? Or could it be weeks? Or days?

After spending about an hour in the library, she went back to the ward to see the chief matron on duty. The trip to the doctors’ library helped to calm her down a little.

The matron sent her home and asked her to come back in the morning to check on her husband to see how he was doing. She really needed to go home to have a wash after last night’s incident.

Claire, her friend who helped her and Segun settle down in Southern Dallas, came to the hospital when she heard what happened to the couple. She drove Temitope home and even stayed with her to comfort her and keep her company, knowing well that Temitope was in shock. They decided to leave Temitope’s car in the doctors’ parking bay, deciding it was not safe to have her drive back home by herself.

Claire did all the cooking, all the while reassuring Temitope that all would be well. She tried to take Temitope’s mind away from the tragic events by sharing the good news of her pregnancy. Claire had been married for eight years before she finally got pregnant through IVF.

Guess what? she asked Temitope. Ahm, what?

After eight years of childlessness, I am going to be a mother at last!

Wow, that is the best news I have heard today, Claire! You can bring it on. You can say it again! Please, just say it again!

I repeat, Doctor Temitope: I am pregnant—finally!

Congratulations! That is awesome! Segun and I have been waiting for a child over fifteen years, Claire—and now this.

Don’t worry, he will come out of the coma. Let us hold onto faith and be hopeful for the best to happen.

So how long gone are you now? Three months gone now, Temitope. Wow! Congratulations again.

Against my worst expectations, my first trimester went smoothly. The midwife and doctors were happy each time I went to the antenatal clinic for examination. I am trying to put the anxiety behind my thoughts so that I can settle to enjoy my second trimester.

I often hear expecting mums complaining about the aching back and the enormity and size of their feet. There’s also the third trimester characterized by difficulty finding a sleeping position  at night  and even a sitting position; how they need to sit on a straight dining room chair and not the settee. And eating for two, or is it three or four?

They both laughed over the plight that women generally have to go through during their pregnancy.

Not being able to put behind her the incident of the gunshot that landed Segun in hospital that day, Temitope relayed the story again to Claire….

Claire?

Yes, Temitope, I am all ears … please speak to me and let it all off your chest.

You see, when the ambulance crew arrived at the hospital, I was in shock. The doctors and nurses recognised me as a doctor. Surgeons rushed Segun into the theatre to take out the bullet, doing all they could, but he still went into a coma.

Oh dear, to think that you went through all of that, Temitope!

"Yes, today is one of the darkest hours I have witnessed in my entire life. One of the ambulance crew knew Segun as one of the doctors that they are used to seeing around in the hospital premises every now and again. To think that he is being rushed into the hospital accident and emergency is sad to bear.

One of the A&E ambulance officers, whose name is Victor, was in shock when they took Segun out of the stretcher. The other looked at Victor, thinking, Just tell me that this doctor’s life will be saved.

With a small lift at the corner of his mouth, his voice trembling, Victor said, Why is this happening to this kind-hearted man? Who shot him? Why would anyone do this to Dr Segun? What is going on … but whyyyyy…. Which psycho has done this to … a doctor? Victor was visibly upset, but as an ambulance worker he could only bottle it all up inside; after all, this was part of the job he does to earn a living.

This was not the time to lament; it was time to do everything that was medically possible to save the doctor’s life. If anything was going to be done, it had to be at this moment. After checking Segun for any pulse, Victor moved the stretcher upwards towards the theatre. The whole place was a panic like any other accident and emergency.

Oh my God! said Claire.

Claire, I am speechless. It all seems like a dream, or perhaps a dream happening to someone else, not you. The look on Temitope’s face said it all.

"I cried out as I have never before. ‘Why you, Segun … why?’ I can’t believe that we are having this trouble. I can’t believe this is happening to us. Who have we wronged? I held onto Segun as he was struck to the floor by the stray bullet. There he lay with his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, for real now, threatening to burst his chest and his heart through his skin, splattering his blood all over the white tiles on the toilet floor.

"Claire, I cried like a madwoman, ‘You can’t leave me behind … nooooooooooooooo, please don’t do this to me! Pleaaassssse, don’t do this to me! Stay with me, Segun! I plead with you, Segun, please stay with me! I plead with you, Segun! We are going to get through this together! Please wake up, Segun, wake up!’ I sobbed repeatedly.

Some of the hospital outpatients passing by recognised me as one of the doctors in the hospital, but they could not understand what was going on. Why was I crying like that and out of breath, out of control, out of everything and anything? They wondered why I looked like a new bride whose bridegroom had been taken away to an unknown destination never to return, Temitope narrated to Claire.

The whole incident felt like someone poking at your open sore with a stick. Temitope never anticipated all of these things happening. Her

head was heating up close to boiling point. She continued to sob repeatedly. Doctors too are human! Her life changed in just under twenty-four hours.

Claire got up and went into the kitchen to find something that she could cook for them to eat before going to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day as they both would have to go down to the hospital first thing in the morning.

I don’t feel like eating anything. I have lost my appetite.

Yes, I know, but you have to force something down your throat, my dear friend. That is the way to go.

Okay; whatever you say. You have the last say, mum-to-be, Temitope teased.

Claire smiled as she prepared a quick meal for three people on that night, with the hope that they would keep Segun’s food in the fridge waiting for him until he got back home.

With Temitope lying down in the living room, Claire prepared chicken stir fry with some noodles, spring rolls, garlic bread, and salads. Temitope had prepared pudding from the previous day, planning to have it for dinner with Segun on that night. The pudding was Eton mess, an English pudding she had learnt to prepare when she was in Cambridge University.

Temitope and Claire sat at the dining table. Temitope explained how Eton mess came about many years ago. Claire took interest in the classic dessert that combines crisp meringues, sweetened cream, and fresh berries layered between an airy sponge cake.

How did you make this delicious Eton mess? she asked Temitope. Claire was trying to take Temitope’s mind away from what had happened to her husband.

Temitope, who was always keen on sharing her recipes with people, proceeded to elaborate.

Traditionally, Eton mess is served in a dish—not in cake or sliced form. A combination of crisp meringues, sweetened cream, and fresh berries, Eton mess is a perfect balance of flavours and textures. Simple, fresh, and kind of messy," this classic British dessert is easy to throw together and versatile. You can even change it up by infusing the cream with or swapping in any seasonal fruit you have on hand and you’re all set. I learnt how to make it from an English friend of mine while we were at Cambridge University studying medicine.

"Students from the rich and affluent families in England attended Eton College. One day they came up with a pudding for themselves, and ever since it has been called Eton mess. Eton mess is a mixture of strawberries, broken meringue, and whipped double cream. It is served at the annual cricket match against the pupils of Harrow School.

Eton mess was served in the 1930s in the school’s ‘sock shop’ (tuck shop), made with either strawberries or bananas mixed with ice- cream or cream. Meringue was a later addition. An Eton mess can be made with many other types of summer fruit, but strawberries are regarded as more traditional, explained Temitope.

Wow! It tastes really nice. You used fresh blackberries, blueberries, and strawberries, giving it a beautiful and lovely look as well as taste. Segun will like it when he comes back home.

At the mention of Segun’s name, Temitope’s eyes closed in, bringing back all the memories of the frightful events.

Eventually, the two ladies called it a day and went to bed.

Temitope was the first to wake up in the morning. She was roaming in and out of sleep. Her eyes were well swollen. She had hardly slept, her mind roaming to the hospital bed where her husband lay down, either in coma or lifeless.

When Claire and Temitope arrived in the hospital, one of the doctors was already waiting to welcome and receive Temitope. With Claire by her side, she entered a private room. The doctor placed a file in front of her and gently uttered words that were familiar to her as a doctor herself.

We tried all we possibly could, he started, but Segun did not make it through the night. He died at twelve midnight, exactly 24 hours after he was struck by the bullet. He fought it going into a coma, but I am sorry it was not going to be, he finished.

Temitope’s face closed in as she fell into Claire’s arms for comfort. She could not cry, talk, or do anything but stare into an unknown future. A future that was never going to be the same again without Segun. Never! But why? she must have thought. Why us? Why now? Who have we wronged? Which enemies are out to do their worst on us? What have we done? All we’ve ever done in this country is to help cure the sick with medicine. Who is doing this to me? Can someone speak to me, please? Soooomone speak to me. These were all the questions pondering in her head. She burst into tears.

The doctor who said he was from the ICU—Intensive Care Unit— asked Temitope if she wanted to see the body … her husband’s dead body, he reiterated.

You mean Segun? No … body; his name is Segun, she said. Oh my God, no, don’t call him body! He is Segun forever!

I am sorry but I was afraid to say that; yes, it is Segun’s body, he replied.

Sadly, she nodded. Feeling numb, she started signing the documents placed in front of her. She did not read a word of the text; not one of the words made any sense to her. She simply looked for the signature boxes on each page and appended her signature.

The doctor offered his condolences again as they got up to see Segun’s body. She looked dazed as she nodded as if to say, Thank you. It sounded like she was choking or holding back a sob. She could hear the echo of the sound from the single gunshot that pierced through their toilet window, which came to do one thing and that was to take Segun’s life away.

Claire helped Temitope to utter the words, Thank you for all you did to save Segun. We appreciate your efforts. May God bless you in return, as they walked out of the room and into the corridor. A good part of her had already gone into the mortuary’s freezer with Segun to keep him company.

Astonishing as it seemed, shocking to the entire medical team, lying down lifeless in the surgical theatre was the dead body and remains of a consultant gynaecological surgeon, struck down by a stray bullet while inside the comfort of his own home.

Segun was a doctor who worked hard to look after thousands of patients all his life. This would always be a tragic story … one could say that Segun lived his life … like a candle in the wind. It can only be like a candle in the wind as he was called to glory to join his dad Akin in the celestial. How are his mum Ajiun and his siblings going to take this tragic news? Only a few years back, Segun was by his mum’s side at his brother’s funeral in Lagos. Who could have ever thought that Segun’s funeral would be the next burial that his family would be gathering to attend?

Perhaps one could say here that it is time for the gun laws in the United States to be reviewed in order to prevent future stories like those of Segun and numerous other unfortunate persons who have lost their lives under similar tragic circumstances from happening again. Had those youths, shooting a few yards away from where Segun lived, not been there on that day playing gun drills, perhaps Segun would still be alive today! On February 14, 2018, came the news at http://time.com/5158678/what-to-know-about-the-active- shooter-situation-at-florida-high-school/.

It was reported that the Marjory Stoneman Douglas shooting was the sixth school shooting resulting in injuries. It was also the deadliest school shooting since the 2012 massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, which claimed the lives of twenty children and six adults. There really are no words to describe or explain these incidents. Authorities said the gunman used an AR-15 rifle, a semiautomatic weapon made for military use and seen  in other mass shootings, including the 2016 Pulse nightclub massacre in Orlando.

Florida students confronted lawmakers on gun control as thousands walk out; 100 Parkland students travelled 450 miles to the state capital while others at dozens of high schools walked out in support of #Never again. Student survivors of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting confronted Florida’s lawmakers to demand gun control reforms, as thousands of teenagers walked out of lessons in solidarity at schools across the state.

About 100 students from the Parkland school travelled 450 miles to the state capital of Tallahassee to spend the morning meeting with Republican and Democratic party legislators. This  walkout took place exactly one week after a nineteen-year-old expelled former student killed fourteen students and three adult staff members with a legally purchased semiautomatic AR-15 assault rifle.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/feb/21/florida-students- confront-lawmakers-on-gun-control-as-thousands-walk-out  https://edition.cnn.com/2018/02/23/us/florida-school-shooting/index.html

Segun lost his life to a stray bullet. It was alleged that a group of youths playing with gun shooting drills yards away from where he lived were responsible for the incident that cost Segun his dear life. He was in the comfort of his home when this tragic incident happened and it is unfortunate that another life was lost under the circumstances narrated in the story of this book.

Chapter 2

Why?

…………………………………………………………

On one of the occasions when she visited the hospital for bereavement counselling, Temitope was escorted back home by one of her doctor friends, Kacy, whom she and Segun had known for many years. She was still in shock and had been unable to sleep for many nights after the fateful night. The trauma had lasted months with no end in sight.

Sobs tightened her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Temitope threw her head back and wept out loudly. She cursed, screamed, sobbed, cried uncontrollably, wept throughout the night. Nothing could stop her unless Segun came back to life, which  never happened! She cried as loud as she could during daytime as well. She held her head up between her hands and cried out her pain into Doctor Kacy’s hands. Her heart was beating fast.

The next night, she slept two hours more than the previous night. She kept her eyes closed waiting to fall into a deep sleep, a sleep that she hoped would take her to see her husband, hoping that her tears would wash away the pain she was feeling by the day and by the hour. A feeling that was almost impossible to bear.

As if she were never a practising doctor, for the next few weeks Temitope hated the hospital, especially the antiseptic smell that clung to one’s nostrils long after one left the ward and corridor premises. The common doctors’ white coats and white dresses that most of the workers and attendants wore daily reminded her of funeral shrouds. The blood and ambulance noises that assaulted your eyes and ears in places where you least expected it. The painful expression on the face of the patient, the screams of pain and loss of a loved one that spiralled through the corridors, wards she did not want to see or hear. She stayed away from the hospital as she tried to come to terms with the loss of Segun.

Claire was another very good friend of Temitope and the late Segun. She rushed down to the hospital to see Temitope the moment she heard what had happened. Claire had always been a good friend of the couple, ever since they moved to Southern Dallas. Claire was a practising nurse and a guidance attorney. She knew a lot about bereavement counselling, as she had studied it for a few years before she went to university to study medicine to become a doctor herself. She was full of both academic and life experience.

Claire was truly a godsend at this time in Temitope’s life after the demise of Segun. She did everything and anything to look after Temitope: cooked, comforted, and did everything possible to keep Temitope sane. It had all happened too suddenly: Segun had not been previously sick, neither was he involved in an accident. The circumstances surrounding Segun’s death would have been enough to give Temitope a nervous breakdown but for the bereavement counselling sessions she received from Claire. She had a hard time accepting that Segun was no longer going to be around her. He was her best friend, her husband of over thirty years, the only man in her life she could call her own. And all of a sudden, he was gone. How was she to deal with that? He was her baby, her company, her professional colleague.

How was she going to break the news to Ben in England? Ben was Segun’s childhood friend; they were best friends. He had visited them along with his wife Yvonne last year and they had all had a lovely summer together. They even went along with Segun to his anonymous rehabilitation sessions for his betting addiction. How was she going to tell Ben and Yvonne that Segun was no more? For crying out loud, what would she tell them Segun died of? All these thoughts were driving Temitope insane. What about breaking the news to her own parents? How was she going to break the sad news to Segun’s mum and Segun’s siblings?

It did not take long before the story went around Southern Dallas and beyond. Everyone was full of sympathy, tributes, just name it! It came flooding into the hospital where Segun practised his profession as a medical doctor. He was a lovely man who always loved to see to it that his patient left the hospital hale and hearty, revealed one of his patients. Others could  not get  over the fact that  he died from a gunshot without fighting with anyone! It was one senseless action by somebody else that cost Segun his own dear life!

When the news of Segun’s demise finally reached Ben, his childhood friend, he was devastated, broken-hearted, and it was sad enough that he was hearing the news. His words to Temitope were, Why is this happening to us? Are you sure that the story you are telling me is true? Tell me this is only a dream. Please, tell me it is only a dream. It would take a long time for the news to sink in. Segun was his best friend—they were brothers. When they were at secondary school back in Lagos, their friends joked that they were twins, though one was black and the other was white. They were often teased by their classmates.

The first thing that Ben decided to do was to tell his wife Yvonne. Then they would decide on how to break the news to Ben’s mum and dad. Ben thought the best way to go about telling Segun’s mum and

family in Lagos was to first and foremost break the sad news to Ben’s parents so that his dad and mum would then pass the news onwards to Segun’s mum and his siblings.

So, Ben narrated the entire story he was told by Temitope to his wife Yvonne. Yvonne almost passed out when she heard the story. Yvonne felt that her husband and herself, being practising lawyers, should get the police in Southern Dallas involved in prosecuting the youths, allegedly involved in the shooting, for unlawful killing,

The group of youths need to be caught and arrested, Yvonne admonished Ben.

We will have to come to that, darling. We are based in England and the horrific incident occurred in Southern Dallas. What we have to do is to call Lagos and break the news to my parents so that they can inform Segun’s family, Ben explained.

Yvonne, thereafter, wept like a child at the news of Segun’s death, sobbing until she literally ran out of energy to cry any further.

After speaking to his own parents, Ben felt a little relieved, but he knew he really would need time to mourn Segun. He wondered if time would ever heal the wound or the vacuum that Segun’s demise would leave in his life. As a solicitor, many questions were going through Ben’s mind. It would have been easy for him to follow up the Metropolitan Police in London or any police constabulary if the incident had occurred in the UK—at least he knew he would follow things up to bring the culprits to book—but as the incident occurred in Southern Dallas, he would require an attorney in the USA to help with any possible arrest or prosecution in the matter. However, the most important thing at the moment was to make sure that Temitope was well looked after. Ben and Yvonne telephoned Temitope daily; first thing in the morning and last thing at night. In fact, they asked her if she would like to come over to England to stay with them for some time, but she refused.

How can I leave Segun in the mortuary and travel to England? she replied when Yvonne asked her whether she would like to travel down to England.

As soon as Ben’s dad William heard the sad news, he passed it on to Sue, his wife, and they both arranged to visit Segun’s mum in Victoria Island in Lagos where she lived. She still lived in the same house she and her late husband Akin had jointly bought and lived in to raise their five children, Segun being the firstborn of the family. It was not going to be an easy task for William and Sue to break this horrific news to Ajiun, Segun’s mum. The hard truth was this was a very difficult situation; assuming that Segun had been ill or had been in the hospital before passing on, then at least one could say that there was a story leading to his death to prepare his mother’s mind for the worst, but in this case Segun was not sick, he was hale and hearty, he was only a sixty-year-old man who was in perfect health; apart from the bits and bobs bad habits in his life that he was dealing with, there were no other issues outstanding. Yes, he might not have been sending a lot of money to his mum as he should, due to the demon of gambling that tied him to casinos and betting shops, but even at that, those habits were only ‘work in progress’ in his life. This news of his death would send his mother to an early grave, William thought.

Sue had a better idea: she suggested to William that they first break the news to Mr Smith, who was now in his eighties. Mr Smith was Segun’s headteacher when he was in secondary school alongside Ben. Sue thought it would be a good idea if the three of them—William, Sue, and Mr Smith—drove to Ajiun’s place to visit her, then the news would be carefully broken to her in the presence of her other children.

And so, after the church service at the Methodist Church in Marina, Lagos, William, Sue, and Mr Smith made their way to Ajiun’s place to break the sad news to her.

You are most welcome, but it is unusual for Mr Smith to visit along with William and Sue after church service. Has something happened? she said.

Good afternoon, Ajiun; so sorry that we could not say much after seeing you in church this morning. We have sad news that we thought we needed to share with you only in the comfort of your home.

Sad news about whom?

It is about Segun, William said.

What about Segun? she said with a frail voice.

We lost him; he’s been to meet the Lord, said