The Black Monday
IT was chaos, uproar and confusion that particular Monday afternoon at Matori Street, in Lagos, as people took to their heels when a big, rabid dog went on rampage with the aim of attacking and biting innocent people. The black, rabid dog was panting with slobbering jaws and barking fiercely like a messenger of the devil from hell. People ran for their dear lives.
As the dog advanced to the next street, a five- year- old boy, who was playing in the front of his parent’s house, and oblivious of the looming danger became the first victim of the mad dog. The crazy dog pounced on him and sank its poisonous teeth on the boy’s thigh. Instantly, the dog left the poor boy, who had started bleeding and continued its endless chase. Within a twinkling of an eye, passersby and neighbours came to rescue the boy.
“Help! Help! Where are your parents?” screamed an elderly man, who was also a sympathiser. The boy was writhing in torturous pains and was very weak. There was a deep gash on his right leg. The boy raised his left arm weakly and pointed towards where he lived. About three people ran inside the particular house to alert the boy’s parents.
They were screaming that a young boy had been bitten by a strayed, rabid dog.
The next minute about eight people inside the house heeded the distress call and rushed out to see the cause of the pandemonium. Among them was the mother of the innocent boy. It was a sad and pathetic sight to behold when the kid’s mother saw her child in a pool of his blood. She bent down instantly, with tears in her eyes, and carried his son from the ground.
“Oh, my son Ariyo!” she cried, “Don’t let Ariyo die… Please, don’t let him die… Where’s taxi? We must rush him to the hospital. Help! Help me… dear God! He’s my only son… dear God!” Mrs. Ojuri was in sorrowful tears as her son continued to bleed and was in a coma that eventful day. Sympathisers had rallied round her, looking for a taxi to take her and her bleeding child to the hospital. As the grief- stricken woman wailed and wailed, in sorrowful tears, a taxi appeared at the scene. People waived it to stop and eventually it stopped in front of the troubled woman.
“General Hospital! Please, take us to General Hospital! It’s an emergency…” she begged. In a jiffy, mother and child hurriedly entered inside the taxi and they headed for General Hospital. Mrs. Ojuri was carrying Ariyo on her laps, and it seemed the young boy wouldn’t make it to the hospital because he had lost too much blood. She prayed to God to come to her rescue so that her only son could survive.
Exactly 15 minutes later, Mrs. Ojuri was at the General Hospital. She got down from the taxi, with her bleeding son by her side and rushed him to the Emergency Ward. She was in a terrible state of mind. The poor boy continued to bleed.
“Help! Help! My son is dying! Where’s the doctor?” she screamed, as she entered the Emergency Ward.
“Heh, woman, stop making noise here!” a bespectacled senior nurse shouted at her, “Go and queue and wait for your turn!”
“Please, I beg you in God’s name, let me see the doctor quickly, my son is dying… I beg you… it’s an emergency…” she pleaded in tears.
To be continued next week Saturday.