This week started out like any normal week in my relatively unexciting life. Little did I know that by the end of the week, I would have played a role - albeit a small one – in saving a stranger’s life. But I’m jumping the gun, so let’s go back to the beginning. Monday and Tuesday were relatively incident-free. Nothing much to report there. Oh, I did call Richard back on Tuesday night (OK I’m spineless, so sue me!) but he wasn’t there and I didn’t leave a message. Oh, well.

On Wednesday, I woke up with a splitting headache, but I had to go into the office anyway because we had a client presentation later in the week and I hadn’t finished the copy on two of the storyboards we were working on. Anyone who knows anything about the advertising industry knows that hell hath no fury like a client scorned. You better have a real reason for missing a deadline, like: your house burned down, both your parents died and you lost an arm and a leg in an automobile accident – all on the same day. And even then, they’ll only give you a 2-day extension. OK, so I’m exaggerating, but you get my drift.

Anyways, I went in to work, completed the copy and left early because my headache had turned into a full-blown case of the flu. As I was turning the keys to my front door, I heard the child in the next apartment crying. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when she was still crying 30 minutes after I got home, I started to worry. Actually, I think the real problem was that her constant wailing was exacerbating my headache :-) After a while, I decided to go over there, just to make sure everything was OK, because I couldn’t hear the sound of any adults in the house. The girl has to be like 3 years old or so, so I was hoping to God that she wasn’t home alone. I don’t really talk to her parents, but they seem pleasant enough. Certainly not the kind of people who would leave a 3 year old in the house by herself… So I went over and knocked on the door. And I knocked again. Loudly. Then I called out, “Are you OK? Is anyone there?” As I was doing all this, I started thinking about all those white women in the movies who just can’t keep their noses out of other people’s business. They hear strange sounds coming from another person’s house and instead pretending that they’re deaf, they decide that the best thing for them to do is go over there and investigate. Next thing they know, they’re lying stone cold in the cellar with a pick-ax sticking out of their neck.

At this point, my instincts were screaming out “run! run!! run!!!” For all I knew, the man had bludgeoned his wife to death and was lurking behind the door, waiting to turn me into victim No. 2. OK, so I have an overactive imagination (hey, what can I say – I’m a writer!) but you can never be too careful, no? Who wants to become the latest crime statistic in another man’s country ? Sha, I was just about ready to turn around and head for the relative safety of my own home when the door cracked open and I saw the little girl’s face. “My Mommy’s sleeping and she won’t wake up.” Uh oh, that didn’t sound too good… “Is anyone else home with you, sweetie?” I asked. She responded only with a mild shake of her head. “Is it OK if I come in?” Still without saying a word, she took a step back and opened the door wider to let me in. “Where’s your Mom sleeping?” I asked as I stepped into the apartment. She led me into the bedroom, where her mother was lying on the bed, apparently asleep. But I could tell from where I was standing that this was no ordinary slumber. I called out to her as I moved closer to the bed, but predictably, there was no response. She was quite obviously unconscious. I just hoped that she wasn’t dead. Lord, please don’t let her be dead, I prayed silently. Me, I no fit answer police query o. As I tried to find the woman’s pulse, I could feel the little girl’s eyes boring a hole into my back, as if she was wondering what in heaven’s name I was doing to her mother. I turned around and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, and at the same time, I felt a weak pulse in the woman’s left wrist. Thank you, Jesus! I immediately called 911 from the bedside phone and waited for the paramedics to arrive. In the meantime, I tried to make small talk with the little girl, but she didn’t seem to be in a very chatty mood. The only thing I could get out of her was her name: Tatiana, and her age: 3 and a half years old. The paramedics seemed to take forever to arrive, but in reality they were there within 15 minutes. They asked me all sorts of questions – how old is the woman (your guess is as good as mine, buddy); does she have any pre-existing conditions (how in heaven’s name am I supposed to know that); how long has she been unconscious (no clue). They said that she’d probably suffered a seizure, but they wouldn’t know for sure until they got her to the hospital. I left a brief note explaining the situation on their dining table in case someone came home, and then Tatiana and I drove behind the ambulance to the hospital. We’d been at the hospital for about 2 hours when a frantic-looking man burst into the waiting area, looking as if the devil himself was after him. I recognized him as someone I’d seen him in my apartment building, and surmised that he was probably Tatiana’s father. As if to confirm my suspicions, Tatiana jumped up as soon as she saw him and flew into his arms. He told me that he’d come home for his lunch break, seen my note and raced to the hospital. While I was still filling him in on what I knew, the doctor came in and told us that Tatiana’s mother was going to be OK. Apparently, she had suffered an epileptic seizure, but was now on her way to a full recovery. The doctor emphasized that if she’d been brought in just 20 minutes later, she would most likely have sustained irreversible brain damage and ultimately would have lost her life. At that point, her husband began to thank me profusely, like he hadn’t thanked me enough already. Frankly, I was starting to feel embarrassed, because I really didn’t think I’d done anything extraordinary. But the hoopla was only just beginning…

Before I knew it, everyone in our apartment building had heard about what happened. Don’t ask me how, cause I don’t know. Neighbors kept stopping by to thank me, the apartment manager called me to thank me for my kindness (he could have waived my rent for the rest of the year – now that would have been something!!) and I got a letter from the District Alderman, commending me on my spirit of good neighborliness (I didn’t even know we had a District Alderman until I got his letter. I guess he’ll be getting my vote next year!) By this time, the woman – who’s name is Donna Altieri, by the way – had fully recovered and was out of hospital. She has become my new best friend, o. And who said that woman cannot talk. Yikes! Actually, she’s really very sweet. Oh, before I forget, some woman from the local TV station called me today. She’s interested in interviewing me for a story she’s developing about local heroes. I don’t really think that these people know the definition of the word hero. I kept trying to tell her that I didn’t think there was anything heroic about what I did, but that only seemed to excite her all the more, so I just gave up. Na dem sabi. I’ll let you know how the interview goes, if it ever happens…

Seriously though, I’m thankful to God that Donna is OK. God really works in mysterious ways, because He’s the one who ordained that I would be home on that day. And funnily enough, all my flu-like symptoms mysteriously disappeared in the midst of all the day’s events. Donna isn’t a Christian, but she agreed with me when I told her that God definitely had a purpose for sparing her life. She and her family are even coming to church with me on Sunday. So that’s a start.

OK, I’m really tired now, so I’ll have to condense the rest of my gist into a couple of short sentences. I finally paid for my ticket to Naija, which means that I’m officially Lagos-bound this Xmas. I’m so excited, although I’m leaving in 4 weeks and I still haven’t bought anything. Oh well. Let’s see, what else? Oh, how could I forget?! Drama, drama !! Richard called me back, and we spoke for quite a while. You’ll never guess what he had to say… But I’ll fill you in on that next week. Right now, I am going to bed. Later!

Stay tuned for Week 3....