A FALSE TRUTH PART 1

Thirty days in a psychiatric ward has no explanation of normalcy. Although I’ve exhibited some behaviour that might seem irrational, I can explain everything around me. Science: that is the cause of my pains. No one seems to believe me. Everything I say seem schizophrenic to them. The sights and visions of demons are not believed and I crave one of them joins me in this unhappy adventure and torture I’m experiencing. A psychiatry hospital isn’t a place to visit. You must be an acclaimed patient to be a family there.  An institution built on rationality in a society that lacks rationalism. What characterizes abnormal behaviour really? 

I could remember how it all began. I have started exhibiting some strange actions at home but no one would expect lesser. Loosing a family member can lead to depression. Losing two in succession can lead to a psychiatric ward. As for me I lost four. My neighbour had heard the shout and rushed to the house. The lifeless body of my younger brother was on the floor of the sitting room. I had to cut the rope he had used to hang himself. When I left him at home; he was having fever. I rushed to the chemist down the road to buy some drugs for him and get him something to eat. My arrival was met by a lifeless body dangling from a rope. I called him Tunji! Tunji!! Expecting a reply and not believing what I was seeing. It was when I cut him down and checked there was no pulse that the scream called the neighbour. 

All was gone; father, mother and two brothers all in five months. The spirits in control of all these turmoil has now started their adventure on me but…….. I can’t really remember pulling my shirt and bra but I knew I was bundled into Afam’s car without a top. Afam has always been fantasizing a sexual adventure between both of us but I can’t just open my legs for him without a concrete meaning. Now I was opening everything with no meanings.

I had grown in strength and the aggression within was intense. It took three grown up guys to hold me down and tie me before they could locate the hospital. The welcome ceremony into the hospital wasn’t a good one. It took three doses of lagatin to get me stabilized. I was now cautioned on shout and the rules of behaviour were given to me. Questions were asked at intervals and whatever reactions one put up; it will be recorded as being mad. Memories and flashbacks are normal things in psychiatric hospital but there was something I knew that no other person knew.

There is a demonic spirit that visits. The spirit tells me everything that had gone wrong in my family. The spirit acts like a friend sometimes and other times it torments. It hides within me so many times and that is the cause of all these. The doctors are just so naïve that they don’t believe what I’m saying. The other day when a pastor came, it left the hospital completely but came later at night to attack the person that was prayed for. Her case grew worse afterwards. 

My name is Atinuke Bukus: the second child out of three. I have lost everything I could call family. I don’t know if I need to live again. Endangering my life has been tagged insanity. But the forces that rule my entirety are not naked to the normal eyes.

It was a lovely family; I could still remember the last Christmas celebration we had. Friends and families flocked the yard and drinks and food were in excess. The house was like a carnival arena. My brother graduated that year thus in preparation for camp by February he had the leverage to do whatever he pleases. Graduating with a first class wasn’t easy; he was really a pride to the family. Babajide was awake the next morning, helping with the cleaning of the compound. Afam was also helping. It was very difficult for me to wake up and for the first time I understood what they called hangover. I had some tots of brandy from the one my brother was drinking with his friends. I felt so dehydrated and every gulp of water the next morning produced a lot of sweat. 

I struggled to join in packing the plates and cups that were not broken. Mum and dad were confident of the kids they had thus sleep was a luxury they could afford. It was a four hours exercise and thanks to God, the weather was mild. I knew I needed to sleep more but Afam came with his disturbances again. Telling me how well he likes me. How can a married man be so disturbing like he married his wife before seeing her? The wife in all loyalty would still keep on praying for her husband. Afam has said everything a guy needs to say to me but something just doesn't make it click. I would rather masturbate than give in to Afam. When I was done with his episode it was time for me to sleep. 

It was carol night and everyone has to be there. It’s a ritual, not that we really enjoy the whole session of cracked voices singing “we wish you a merry Christmas”. And women in their menopauses, chanting “silent night”….. Sleep was a constant in a Baptist church but during carol night snoring was added. Ushers roamed our seat, waking us up at intervals and when we were finally done it was time to have the best sleep. Good nights were exchanged when we got home and the locks were put in their right places to prevent unwanted visitors at night. I had laid on my bed thinking about Afam. I saw his penis one day and it looked enticing. His intonation is one you cannot forget in a hurry. I always imagine him on top of me both naked banging hard inside of me but in reality I can’t give in. he was my last thought before I finally dozed off. 

Nothing woke me up the next morning but checking the time on my phone; discovering it was 7.30 am I knew I was in soup. I rushed out of my room to the kitchen and started making breakfast. I put on the TV and started sweeping the sitting room. When mum finally came out of the room I was 90% done with the chores. Where are your brother she asked and I answered like she didn’t know they are lazy people? She walked into the guys’ room and woke them up. Babajide and Tunji, now you people should stand up!!  With the tone Tunji jumped up and ran out of the room but Babajide didn’t move. Mum had to enter the room and gave him a lovely slap to wake him up. Surprisingly he wasn’t going to wake up that morning. The whole chastisement from mummy became an apology. Daddy joined in trying to wake him up and when they couldn’t; they rushed him to the hospital. The family was first tampered with when they drove back home and I asked uncle Rafiu the driver where my brother was; and he said Babajide is in the mortuary.