LATEST POSTS: MORNING COFFEE SMELLS SWEET
Flash Fiction

BLOOD BATHS AND HOLY WATER

When the bleeding started, you had assumed it was a minor irregularity and that your body would return to normal after a few days, considering you were one of those whom your fellow women had labelled “God’s favourite”. You bled for three days, no cramps, no aches, no bloating, nothing!

This time around it was different though, your insides were being pricked by pins, the pain had you tumbled over. No remedy, no cure, brutality so raw it demanded to be felt! You couldn’t sleep it away, wish it away or even pray it away.

You had a deep-seated dislike for hospitals. The smell of
disinfectant mixed with soap, white walls, crispy clean sheets, nurses in
scrubs and crocs.
Patients waiting to see the doctor like criminals waiting to
receive a jail sentence.
The uncertainty that comes with the visit, the machines beeping at intervals.
Death lurking under staircases and on quiet corridors.

The doctor; a funny looking man in his late 40’s  looks you over as if examining a piece of spoilt bread and says you have PCOS,
polycystic ovarian syndrome. He says you should lose weight to reduce the
effects of the cysts and you are tempted to ask him how your weight affects your
ovaries but you decide against it because his voice is dismissive and his words
are lined with a certain impatience.

He proceeded to prescribe a bunch of
weird-sounding drugs without fully explaining their purposes or side
effects.

Two months after that first visit, all hell
broke loose!.

Your body reminded you of your womanhood, a
reminder that came in form of a betrayal, betrayal that came in form of dark,
thick, chunky blood clots. Pouring out of you like flooded drainage. Humbling
you as you curled up in pain, wondering what sins you have committed to be meted
out such punishment by your own body, your flesh.

Some nights your demons would crawl into bed
with you, rub your belly and rock you to
sleep. You would wake up to sheets stained with blood spread out like a map.

Your mother’s pastor says you are purging out
your sins. Your blood needs to be purified, you are paying for the sins of your
body.

Kneel before your king
A spiritual cleanse
Church bells ringing
Holy water sprinkling
Tambourine rattling
Piano playing  off-key
Incense burning
The air is thick with lies and deceit.

The man
of God says you are healed. Your mother drops a large sum in his bowl. Only
those with faith receive the lord’s blessings, and so you wonder in this race between
body and mind is your faith enough to save your soul?
Your demons do not visit that night.

The silence of the night is loud, it’s piercing
through your ears. There is no one to rub your belly or put you to sleep.

At 3 am, you are on the toilet seat, you do not
know how you got here but you know that you are bleeding profusely and you dare
not lay on your bed.

Perhaps
you do not have enough faith after all

O. Omokehinde
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