Vile

   The slap that lands on Clement’s face is loud enough to grab the attention of everyone in the corridor. Nurses and nosy patients rush to the source to meet a dumfounded Clement, glaring at his assailant.

   Clement watches his fleshy ebony lady-assailant, rant and shout but his mind isn’t there anymore. A high-pitched ring muffles every sound around him. So, he can only observe passively with his eyes. Everyone wears a face of confusion as they try to inquire from their neighbour what happened. The lady turns to them and narrates her story with flamboyant gestures as their faces shift from intrigue, to shock, to pity. All the while, Clement collects his mind and tries to abate his anger.

   He is not angry about the pain. Surprisingly, it wasn’t painful at all and he is only cradling his face out of reflex, while trying to conceal the green and yellow markings on the back of his hand. It was the noise. Loud enough to attract everyone within earshot and complete all the requirements of an escalated scene.

   The lady finishes her story and turns back to Clement, who is still glaring at her. She grabs his trousers by the waist and shakes him violently. Since, Clement is a frail man, his body follows without much protest. Clement grows more livid by the second and his frustration increases by the fact that he is not given the chance to organize his words. He is mumbling and attempting to defend himself but the lady is ferocious. He tries to break loose of her hold by swinging her about but someone in the crowd register this as an attack and goes to restrain Clement. He is soon joined by a number of people that only add to the tussle, until both fighters are engulfed in the rowdy crowd.

   Clement is being tossed around like a ragdoll. He can barely see the woman anymore but the scene had grown of out of control. Unable to break free or see any other option, Fighting might be the only way out of this but before he gets aggressive, the crowd calms and begins to disperse. The woman still holds his rumpled jeans firmly, but he hears Matron’s voice and breathes easier.

   The matron, a short lady with sienna skin, walks into the scuffle with the authority of a mother and says to the lady “Madam, stop na. Na hospital be this o. How you go dey fight like this for here”

“Leave me joor!” the lady shouts, shoving Clement away “You people will not talk to this boy. If he tries that kind of nonsense again, I will make sure I finish him here”

“Madam, calm down. Wetin happen?”

“This mumu didn’t bring oxygen for my baby for close to four hours and I paid since. You people will just be billing somebody and collecting money anyhow but see now. Before I left here in the morning, around after eight, the nurse told me that my baby’s oxygen has finished and that the baby needs one. So I should go and buy” Someone murmured in affirmation “I paid for it and for all the test before I left. Now na I came back and the nurse was asking me about the oxygen just for them in the pharmacy to tell that the useless orderly has not taken it up yet”

“Clement, what happened now?” The matron asks him, without giving him time to reply, then turns back to the lady “Madam, Sorry, calm down. Them don give the pikin the oxygen?”

The lady nodded, returning Clement’s glare.

“Oya, sorry. Just forget abeg. We go talk to am and handle everything. Sorry” She leads the lady away and the crowd slowly disperses. The hateful stare is maintained for a while before she turns and walks away with her crowd of supporters.

   Matron leaves them and walks back to Clement, standing alone and disheveled. Struggling against the catch in his throat, he immediately tries to get some words out, eager to express himself but the matron hushes him and leads him to the ground floor of the hospital.