Cheta Nwanze: A doctor’s harrowing experience

By Cheta Nwanze

Published as sent to me via email. I’ve not made any effort to find out more just yet. There is the possibility that this is an elaborate fiction. I’m publishing it however, because it resonates with a fairly recent experience of mine…

I had forgotten what the term ‘faced with death’ really meant until early hours of this morning (21/12/16). I work with the state HMB and also run a private medical center. Yesterday I admitted a patient at the government. hospital who had epistaxis during my clinic hours and I handed him over to the senior medical officer on call for observation. I had packed the bleeding nostrils with AChxta’s note — earlier this year, I was on the way to Ilorin for a job. I drove. Somewhere after Oyo, I was stopped by the police. Those same words were used, “If I shoot you throway for here, nothing wey go happen.” At that point, I gave myself sense and gave the man my wallet as he demanded. He took everything in the wallet. I turned around, and returned to Lagos. Goodness knows how many of the bodies we have seen paraded on our television screens as armed robbers, we people who were ‘shot throway’…drenalin impregnated gauze and the bleeding stopped. At about 12 am the medical officer on call called to say that he was checking on the patient and decided to remove the gauze to examine patient and that was it! Patient just started bleeding profusely and within minutes had lost over 2 litres and was gasping for breath, PP: was 120 bpm, RR: was 30 cpm. Normal saline was used, no oxygen in general hospital, no blood to transfuse because the lab was closed. I was called at about 2 am to come along with an oxygen cylinder and two blood bags since ORH negative blood donors were available. Up from the bed I got, pleaded with my hubby to please let me go save a life (little did I know that a great danger was ahead). Driving down to my private practice with my double traffic lights on, I met a police check point. I was flashed to a halt and the following conversation ensued:

Police: Madam where u dey go this kin time?

Me: I be doctor I get emergency for hospital.

Police: (now upset) Emergency! Emergency! Na so so emergency doctors dey talk, na emergency we wan chop?

Me: Oga police, I beg the patient dey die and time dey go.

Police: stay there, u never ready to move, me I no get bed to sleep? I go kon dey here for nothing?

Me: (furious, as time was ticking away) Na me give u work? Dem no dey pay u?

Police: (looking through my car window piercingly as if searching for something) Aha! Wetin dat knife dey do there? (A pen knife I used to slice some oranges earlier in the day) OK! I don catch u, u go explain this knife and this movement for this unholy hour. He cocked his gun and pointed straight at me. Come down! I say come down!

Me: (now praying silently in tongues as I saw he was dead serious) Oga, u wan shoot me? For what now? I be armed robber?

Police: if I kill u now throway who go find u?

Me: (my heart beat racing) Oga police u wan shoot me? U can’t kill me, God forbid, I can’t die like a chicken.

Police: U don die already, emergency my foot, in ur next life wen u see police u go respect. (shot into air twice then pointed the gun at me).

At this point another car came by and while the policeman was talking with the driver, my phone rang. It was the doctor calling having waited for too long. As fast as my fingers could move, I picked the call and thank heavens it mysteriously entered in to hands free mode, before the doctor could speak, quickly and faster than a football commentator, I began, “I’m at so and so place, the policeman here wants to kill me because I didn’t give them money.”

I went on and on because I actually wanted the police man to know that I’ve informed someone about the incident before he kills me. He let the other car quickly go and turning to me, opened my door and forcefully pulled me out of the car, dragged me to the back of their police van and up into the vehicle. At this point I realized there were four other police officers at the scene. Off they drove.

Me: where are u taking me to? (There was dead silence, meanwhile I noticed a vehicle come out from a corner and followed us from a distance I realized it was the car that earlier came by while we were at the check point).

Police: (as soon as they realized the car was monitoring us…) Driver, stop! They alighted and flashed the vehicle down as he got close. They ordered him out of his car.

Police: Na u wan give evidence of wetin u no see abi?

One policeman shouted, “Fire him.”

I mustered courage and spoke up, “Sir, don’t even bother to shoot, you heard me make a call, I’ve told them that you threatened to kill me for refusing you bribe, so that you can’t cover up what is already exposed.”

That realisation got them thinking, and the next thing they started beating up the officer that had been with me for allowing me make calls, calling him names. At this point the other driver turned and drove off, they chased him. On getting to the check point where I met them before, my car wasn’t there! (I left the car key on the ignition before they took me away). Probably an opportunist has decided to take advantage of the situation and stole the car. This made them have a rethink. Who must have taken this car away? Are we being tailed?

That was how I was released and I found my way back home. By this morning I was told that my patient gave up, I have lodged a report at the police station with the commissioner of police and they are looking into it. My car is nowhere to be found.

The lesson: If you meet a Nigerian police officer in a lonely place please, please cooperate, I mean cooperate, because they can be more dangerous than armed robbers. Were it not for God’s intervention I really do not know what would have become of me by now.

Chxta’s note — in June 2016, I was on the way to Ilorin for a job. I drove. On a lonely stretch after Oyo, I was stopped by the police. During the exchange, those same words were used, “If I shoot you throway for here, nothing wey go happen.” At that point, I gave myself some sense and handed over my wallet as he demanded. He took everything in the wallet. I turned around, and returned to Lagos. Goodness knows how many of the bodies we have seen paraded on our television screens as armed robbers, we people who were ‘shot throway’…


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