"But when you are deprived of it for a lengthy period then you value human companionship. But you have to survive and so you devise all kinds of mental exercises and it's amazing."
-Prof Wole Soyinka

I probably should stop drinking so much coffee.

Getting through medical school is almost impossible without it, but this steady flow of caffeine in my system will have long term side effects.

I should make time to pay my parents a visit. Then again, maybe not, they'll start bothering me with questions about when I am going to get married. Despite my concerns, I decided to call my mum because I missed her. Additionally, I had no idea when I would be able go to Abeokuta to see them.

I leaned back in my seat and flexed my fingers over the steering wheel, and put my phone on loud speaker as it rang. Mum answered shortly afterwards.

"Hello, Amara! Thanks for remembering me today!"

I shook my head and smiled, "Ah ahn, sweet mum I always think of you."

She laughed, "Sure you do. How's work? Are you eating well? Getting enough rest?"

"Fine, yes and no," I replied with a chuckle.

"You know, if you had a husband and children, things would be different."

I rolled my eyes, and took a few deep breaths to control my frustration. Here we go.

"Chineke! Children nowadays! How dare you roll your eyes at me!"

What? How did she know?

"Mum–"

"I'm still talking. You're not getting any younger and you spend all your time at the hospital or alone. What kind of life is that?"

"Mum–"

"Your dad and I miss you, but you stopped coming to see us, and if we want to visit you, you'll say you're busy. It's because we have been telling you to settle down isn't it?"

I sighed, she was right. "I'm sorry mum, I'll have to call you back, the traffic light just turned green."

She huffed in disbelief, "You're a beautiful lady, inside and out, I'm sure you have many suitors. Choose one you can tolerate and respect, and marry him. All men have their flaws including your dad!"

"Bye, Mum!" I quickly ended the call. The light hadn't turned green, I just didn't want any further discussion about that matter.

That's right, I am 'that aunty.' I thought with a sigh. She could be your sister, daughter, cousin or friend. Avoiding family gatherings and other social events because of those annoying mummies, daddies, grandparents, Uncle Femi's, brother Uche's, sister Risikat's and Aunty Ada's, reminding her every single time about how she should be married with kids by now, so frustrating!

Even Mallam Bello, the suya guy,  asked when oga will come and buy suya, last time I went to his stall! It was down the street of my parents house, and I had been avoiding the place ever since.

Suddenly, my thoughts drifted to work, and the shift I was about to resume. I hope there aren't going to be any extreme issues today. Accident and Emergency packed shifts are the worst.

I was busy thinking about all the different things that I should do and not do, what I wanted and did not want as I was driving to work in my Toyota Matrix. It happened to be a cool and cloudy day in the middle of April. Beautiful palm trees lined both sides of the road and cast a pleasant shade on the street.

As I waited at the traffic lights, I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. My natural hair was neatly packed in an elegant bun and my chocolate skin was flawless. It looked like that orange infused tea that I drank regularly was actually working for fresher skin and general detox. At least, something was giving me good results. Without drama.

The traffic light eventually turned green. As I continued driving, several people were crossing the overhead bridge and many others were walking on the footpaths. The bright yellow buses, synonymous with Lagos, filled the streets. Bus conductors argued with one another and were already struggling for their right of way. They shouted at each other, and also at potential passengers, as they called out their various destinations.

"Oshodi! Oshodi! Oshodi!"

"Island! Island! Island!"

"Mile Two! Mile Two!"

I chuckled as I watched the routine chaos unfold. The sound of loud car horns blaring was deafening, and the fumes of car exhaust filled the air. No one was ready to calm down, and regular issues would probably not be resolved, causing traffic jams for hours more often than not. Welcome to Lagos!

At just half past five in the morning, the Lagos hustle and bustle had already started. I thanked God daily for living close to work, because Lagos traffic was, and probably will always be a complete nightmare.

I worked at Valley View Central Hospital, Ikeja, Lagos. It was a lovely three storey building painted white with a navy roof and tinted windows. It also had state of the art medical equipment and personnel. I recently qualified as a medical doctor and worked at a medical centre in Abeokuta, my home city, for one year.

Fortunately, I got a better job with a higher salary shortly afterwards at Valley View. Elated, I relocated from Abeokuta to Lagos, where I lived alone in a one bedroom flat. Nice, comfortable and lonely.

As I reached the hospital, I parked in my reserved parking spot and took a deep breath before stepping out of my car, squaring my shoulders and walking up the driveway. Greeting people as I passed them by, silently with a polite nod, I stepped through the glass doors into the reception area.

Before I could enter the elevator, the receptionist, a tall, good looking man in his mid twenties, Mr Ighodaro, called me and gave me the 'good news' to start off my day.

"Good morning, Dr Oyelowo. Mr Davies has requested to see you for a consultation by 8 am."

Oh my goodness. Mr Olatunde is back again.

I smiled politely as I responded. "That's alright, I'll be expecting him. Have a nice day."

In the elevator, I kept a straight face while rolling my eyes mentally.

Oh my goodness. Mr Olatunde is back again.

Mr Chidi Olatunde Davies (SAN) was a wealthy, well educated lawyer and jovial man in his early seventies. He was in great shape and very healthy for a man of his age, but he was what we doctors refer to as a 'stubborn patient.'

Over the past three months, he came every single week for consultations. Each time he had requested for me specifically. In fairness to him, he had always been a perfect gentleman and even came with his wife—whom he appeared to love very much, a few times.

Oga Madam, his wife, was tired of his antics and so was I. Professional ethics would not permit me to show it though. Especially since he could afford to request for very important person / executive treatment packages.

He travelled to London for a short vacation with his wife but now...

Oh my goodness. Mr Olatunde is back again!

Several tests had been conducted and Mr Davies had been given assurance of good health, but he kept coming back. Sometimes it was his back, other time it was his legs, other times it was his eyes. All of which had been tested thoroughly, and no ailment had been detected. I advised him to take paracetamol in moderation and get full body massages as frequently as possible, but he kept coming back.

I huffed. In fact! My mind drifted to an irritated pause and eye roll meme that was trending on Twitter. It was perfect for the situation. What a nuisance. What on Earth could be his complaint this time?

A/N

Chineke means 'God' in Igbo

Olatunde means 'wealth has come again' or 'wealth has returned' in Yoruba. Hence the emphasis on calling him Mr Olatunde, since he keeps coming over and over again, instead of Mr Davies.

Suya is a spicy, well seasoned barbeque meat, and popular roadside/street food.

Oga means 'boss' In this context, the man was referring to Damilola's future husband

SAN means 'Senior Advocate of Nigeria'