Her Voice Within

Chapter 6

ANWAR

Abuja, Nigeria

Some days I love my job while other days, I'm just left wondering how I ended up here in the first place, what was I even thinking when I decided I wanted to study medicine.

Yes, just like every naive young teenager, my reason was 'I want to save lives'. God I sounded so stupid, just thinking about it makes me cringe. Astagfirullah! Ya Allah forgive.

Looking back, I wish I had headed my school counsellor's advice like most students do. I was quite stubborn, believing that the world needed me and that few doctors truly approached their work with dedication and honesty. My determination was unshakable, and I have no regrets in that aspect.

If I had the ability to travel back in time, I would give my younger self a resounding knock on the head to help reset that brain of mine and redirect my thinking.

Honestly, Had I known that my decision would lead me here one day, I would never had gone to science class. I will just respectfully carry myself to art class. Who's to say? Maybe I'd be sitting in a luxurious CEO's office, or perhaps thriving as an accomplished architect, or even making a significant impact in the financial sector. But alas, my impulsive decision to become a doctor was made well before I had even entered senior school.

Adding a cherry on top, my grandfather was a renowned neurosurgeon. Ever since I mistakenly mentioned to Baba's friend that I wanted to become a doctor (a typical response from a kid who didn't know better) my grandfather had been showerinmg me with praises. He saw it as me finally following in his footsteps, something none of his sons had done.

Let's just say all my grandfather's praises and expectations got to me and like he said, I was determined to make him proud. And that is one of the reasons he partnered with some group of Egyptians in the building of this hospital so I can take over after him.

Well, I am doing a great job making him proud because I went through med school, interned in this hospital and now I am the head of cardiology department 'yay! I must be truly happy living the life of a thousand' just imagine me with a sarcastic smile while saying that.

I am really not happy. This is what I thought I wanted, but is it truly my calling? Did all the sacrifices, sleepless nights, and missed family moments lead to this? Don't misunderstand me; the joy I feel seeing smiles on patients' faces, as well as their families', after a successful surgery is invaluable. It's a rewarding experience I wouldn't trade for anything. However, there are days when I yearn for a mere twenty-four hours of personal freedom. A day without hospital worries, patient updates, or the looming return to the hospital environment.

I sigh leaning back on the couch that was located in the small resting or sitting area in my office and sipping out of my coffee. I missed my lunch break because my attention was needed urgently on a case of Angina so now I just have to use the few minutes I have left before someone interrupts me to fill my stomach with coffee so I can keep going.

My phone's familiar chime interrupts the moment, signifying an incoming notification. I reach out, stretching my arm to the glass ottoman where my phone rests. Upon opening Instagram, a flood of new followers, likes, comments, and unread messages greets me. I mostly ignore these messages, occasionally scanning them without reply.

However, one notification captures my attention, a message from a user named @meerah_boo. I'm convinced it's yet another one of those persistent individuals who message me daily, all of whom I choose to ignore. Curiosity piqued, I decide to read this one.