Sinach, Yemi Alade join list of Most Influential Women in Africa

Here I am reminiscing on how life used to be, how it was to have a family, a real family. Meredith was all that I had after the tragic death of her mother. Her mother was a quintessential personality crowned with her indefatigability, if only death didn’t snatch her away from my hands.

Meredith’s fortitude was what gave me courage for a better future. Her smiles could light up the world or even save a life. Although she was just eleven years old, she was indomitable. Watching her grow up was one of the best things any father could ask for. Having long walks on the beach with the sun smiling down at us, pushing her on a swing, watching her play and above all, her determination to become a doctor just like her father were all memories now. I was fast asleep when I felt an unusual urge to check on Meredith. My heart skipped a beat as I tiptoed along the hall. The hoots of owls and the whistling of the wind only made me more agitated in the silent house. All of a sudden, I heard screams from the kitchen and shattering of glass. My hearing didn’t fail me, the screams grew louder and louder until they suddenly became faint. I moved further towards the kitchen only to see blood and broken glass on the floor. It was too late. Amidst the blood and glass was Meredith’s rosary. I was right, someone did break in. Meredith was gone.

I sat amidst the mess, wondering how and why the unspeakable had happened. How are kidnappers operating even in this lockdown? I quizzed myself with endless questions and choked on the fact that I didn’t have a palatable answer to any of them. All these happened in seconds but it seemed like time was still, still enough to bounce me back into reality.

My feet moved faster than my thoughts, I was running through the streets hoping to rescue my daughter from the clutches of those that took her not even bothering to take a weapon to protect myself from any possible combat. My journey was fruitless. I made way back to my house, treading every step lifelessly until my blurry eyes identified a picture piece. It seemed familiar. “No,no, it can’t be, Noooo!”

It all made sense to me. One of the patients I had been treating a week ago begged me to save his life at all cost. He showed me a picture he shared with his son, that same picture, telling me his only son won’t take it lightly if he didn’t survive the deadly virus. My senses couldn’t clarify if that was a plea or a threat. The man died later that week, his age and immunity were too weak to keep fighting.

Now they’ve taken Meredith. They blame me for the deed of the virus. This was more than a pandemic, it was tragedy.

I immediately jumped back into reality with beads of sweat competing for a position on my face. It was a dream. My heartbeat was irregular as I skimmed through the house for Meredith. When I got to the kitchen, it finally hit me. “I don’t even have a daughter” I blurted.