Pa Josiah’s health, which had been unsteady for some time, suddenly became worse. At first it was small things—more coughing, more weakness, long moments of silence where the old man sat still and looked tired. Then one evening, Chidi came home and found his grandfather struggling to breathe.
Fear entered him at once.
“Grandpa!” he called, rushing to him. “What is it?”
Pa Josiah tried to wave it off, but his face had already changed. He looked pale and worn out.
That night, Chidi borrowed money for transport and took him to a small hospital. The doctor said more tests were needed. Then came drugs. Then admission. Then more bills.
Chidi felt as if the ground under his feet had opened.
Pa Josiah Bello was the only family he had left. His parents had died years earlier, and since then it had been only the two of them. The old man had raised him, fed him, prayed for him, and pushed him through every hard season. Chidi could still remember nights when there was almost no food, but Pa Josiah would smile and tell him to eat first because he had already eaten outside. Later, Chidi would find out that it was a lie.
So now, watching his grandfather lying weak on a hospital bed, Chidi felt something close to panic.
He tried everything. He called people who owed him favors. He took extra work where he could. He borrowed small amounts from two classmates. He even sold the small wristwatch his father had left behind.
Still, the bills kept rising.
Every day felt like another stone on his chest. He stopped sleeping well. He stopped paying attention in class. He began leaving campus faster than before. Even when Imani found him, he barely had the strength to speak.
One afternoon, she caught up with him outside a lecture hall.
“Chidi, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Do not do that.”
He kept walking.
“I said nothing.”
“Chidi, I know you. That wasn’t nothing.”
“Just leave it.”
“Talk to me, please.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look tired every day, Chidi. You barely talk to me now, and even your face has changed.”
He looked away. “I have things to deal with.”
“Then let me know what they are.”
“You can’t help me.”
The answer came too quickly, and it carried more sharpness than he meant.
Imani fell quiet. For a moment, Chidi regretted it, but he was too exhausted to soften it. He stepped around her and left.
It was Adeobi who finally told Imani the truth.
That evening, when Imani returned to the room she shared with her, Adeobi was seated on the bed reading.
“Imani, did you hear? Chidi’s grandfather is in the hospital.”
Imani stopped. “What?”
Adeobi looked up. “I heard two boys in the department talking about it. They said the old man is very sick.”
Imani dropped her bag at once. “Since when?”
“I do not know. Maybe some days now.”
Imani’s face tightened. “And he did not tell me.”
Adeobi closed her book slowly. “Maybe because he is proud.”
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