Nina (13)

Hello young man,” the psychiatrist said, looking kindly at me.
I gave him one of my most winning smiles. I needed to be as
friendly as possible if I was going to pull this one off. I took
one look at him at it was awesome. I thought I could see into
other people before, but now it was like looking with super
vision. I saw everything, every little detail about the doctor
was made known to me. Is this how I used to see when I was
little? No wonder I had run into so much trouble then. I knew
his name, the day he was born, his worst fear, his greatest
accomplishments. Every little hidden secret was an open book
to me. And I read him. And I marvelled at this gift.
“So,” he said. “My name is-”
“Dr Paul O-, yes I know” I replied.
The psychiatrist looked a little startled at first, then he looked
at his name tag on his desk and smiled.
“Very observant of you” he said,
“I didn’t read your name tag” I replied.
“Of course you didn’t” the doctor responded condescendingly.
“A voice must have told you, right?”
I noted his sarcasm and resisted the urge to get angry. He was
still viewing me as a patient. I needed to be calm to convince
him otherwise.
He noticed my silence and opened up my case note and
started writing. I tried not to look curious as he scribbled down
whatever he thought was wrong with me. Finally he spoke:
“How long have you been smoking Indian hemp?”
“I have never smoked Indian hemp in my life.”
“Oh come now,” he said, “I can’t help you unless you tell me
the truth.”
I turned back and saw the two nurses at alert behind me.
“Well, a little privacy would be nice,” I said pointedly.
He hesitated for a moment then asked both nurses out of the
office. The female nurse objected, looking very concerned but
he allayed her fears.
“I don’t think our friend is going to be violent, nurse. He just
wants a little privacy so he can tell me what I need to know
without feeling shy, abi my friend?” He said smiling at me.
I nodded and she reluctantly left with the male nurse. They
shut the door but I could still feel thier presence. They hadn’t
gone far.
The doctor was looking at me, observing my every move. I
was sure there was some kind of alarm button below his desk,
if I misbehaved, those two would be back in the office in
“Now then,” he said genially. “We are alone. So tell me when
you started using Indian hemp.
“I have never smoked Indian hemp in my life.” I repeated.
He gave me a look like a headmaster who had caught one of
his students doing something naughty, calmly took up my
case note and read where they had found Indian hemp in my
“And did you see the hemp sir? I asked innocently. The doctor
admited that no, he hadn’t. I asked if anyone else had seen the
said wraps of hemp for which he answered on the negative but
said it was probably with the police who had accompanied the
good Samaritan to my room.
“I am sorry, doctor, but I am aware that when the police bring
a case like this to your hospital, they usually leave thier
number so they can be contacted in case of any eventuality.” I
said. “Do you have any such information?”
I saw a puzzled look come across the doctor’s face as he
searched through my case note. Obviously he hadn’t bothered
to look for any of these things and had simply begun seeing
me based on the word of the “good samaritan” that had
brought me in. And if he had met me in my “psychotic” state he
would never had taken a second look at the supposed
information given, as my case would have been typical in
presentation to the tens of cases he saw like this everyday.
Even if my parents who had travelled all the way from my
hometown had vouched for me, my irrational talk and violent
behaviour would have still convinced the doctor that I had been
involved in some form of substance use. It was clear that my
logical thinking was causing the doctor some concern and
“Listen, Mr chuks,” the doctor said. “I don’t know why I can’t
get any information regarding the whereabouts of your
cannabis, but its probably an oversight from our staff.
however, it also says here that you were having auditory and
visual hallucinations which is typical of this condition. Now tell
me, do you hear voices or see things that other people in the
room do not see?”
Here was my cue. Now was the moment of truth. I could
either try and feign ignorance and hope he would discharge me
based on my miraculous recovery, or I could let him in on
what really happened and hope he wasn’t somehow on Mr
A-‘s payroll. I didn’t have to think so much though, the next
thing he said made up my mind for me”.
“You might as well tell me the truth because either way I’m still
going to keep you here even if its for observation.” And he
started scribbling something else on my case note.
“How is Bisi doing?” I said. “Are you planning on calling her
The room became deathly silent. It was as if i had shot him
with a stun gun, as if a massive amount of electricity had gone
through his body. He just sat there, his mouth open, his
fingers still moving the pen but writing nothing. I didn’t wait for
him to respond.
“She’s definitely not the girl for you, if you don’t mind my
saying so. Someone who would argue with you and keep
malice for four days just because you came a few minutes late
for a lunch appointment isn’t going to be anymore
understanding if and when you do get married.”
The doctor was finally able to find his voice though his fingers
were still twitching spasmodically. “How…how did
“Okay sir, here’s the thing.” I said. “Yes I do see things
sometimes that other people don’t see but that doesn’t make
me crazy, just different. And I don’t talk about it unless I feel it
will be of help to the person, just as I feel I have helped you
out of making the biggest mistake of your life. I don’t smoke
Indian hemp, never have and hopefully nevrr will. I was framed
and its a very long story, one that maybe one day I’ll write into
a book and publish, but not one I have the time to tell right
now. Right now I have to leave this hospital as soon as
possible. I’ll do any test you want me to do to prove my sanity
but I don’t have the time because I strongly feel the girl of my
dreams is about to make a very grave mistake and I have to
be there to stop her. And oh yes, the woman whose fender you
hit today only let you off because she saw your car had
sustained more damage than hers.”
The look on the doctor’s face was priceless. He seemed like he
wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For a man who
believed strongly in logic I had just blown his beliefs out of the
water. He looked at me for a while and I wondered what he
was going to say, what he was going to do.
“So…Bisi is not my soulmate?” He asked.
“I’m sorry, no.” I said. “Marry her and you’ll be struggling the
rest of your life. All that glitters isn’t gold, my friend.”
He smiled sadly at that last statement and I saw tears come to
his eyes. Suddenly he scribbled some more into my case note
and signed off then turned it towards me so I could read. The
last line went:
I heaved a sigh of relief and thanked him.
‘No, thank you,” he said. “I haven’t felt so good in four days.
You are free to go. I would like to have your number though, if
you don’t mind.”
I gave it to him and started to leave the office. I opened the
door and saw the two nurses sitting on a bench outside. The
female nurse jumped up on seeing me and I smiled at her. I
turned back and said to the doctor who was still sitting dazed
in his chair.
“You two make a good team. Imagine drinking that well
brewed coffee for the rest of your life. Open your eyes, man!”
Then I smiled again and gave way for the female nurse who
promptly came into the office and asked if the doctor was
alright. The doctor looked at her and I saw that he had made
the connection.
“I’m fine Nurse Betty,” He said. “The patient has been
discharged. Let him go home.”