It was one Monday evening after a long time at my place of work, writing lesson notes; the sun was already saying goodbye in the busiest street of Akwa Ibom.
Since I was passing the market, I decided to buy ingredients for plantain porridge. I met my brother lying comfortably on the couch in the parlor with his eyes fixed on his phone.
"Big sis, big sis, biggy biggy. Gist dey!" He shouted; his voice was full of a mixture of joy. I was already too exhausted at work, and all I needed was to bathe and rest before I got into the kitchen.
After 30 minutes of rest, I peeled the plantain, and I heard my phone ringing unendingly. I had to drop my knife to check, and it was my elder sister, Lora.
"Hello Maryann, where did you keep your phone? Jerry is at my place, and he is dying." Her voice was scaring me. "His sugar level is high; as I'm talking to you now, he's unconscious and can't even stand up by himself."
My heart sank, and instantly I became restless. My brother, Jerry, has been battling diabetes since at a very young age. It has been treatment upon treatment with no cure, and hearing how my sister sounded and how critical it was, I became cold, but I tried to be strong. "Have you tried seeking help? Maybe going to get him drugs?"
"Yes, he told me about a drug he used to inject, but we went to price it, and it's very expensive," she replied, her voice very shaky. "But my husband has left to board a taxi." After 15 minutes, she called again to inform me they got to the hospital and the doctor admitted him. But the money for the treatment was N100,000, and the money they had wasn't up to that.
My blood was cold. It was an unexpected emergency, and I didn't have much in my account. I rested my head on the kitchen wall, feeling overwhelmed. My younger brother, who overheard us on the phone, rushed in to understand what was happening. "Sis, what's the problem? Who is sick?"
I told him everything; he didn't say anything but quickly asked, "We have to find a way of saving him."
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Being a graphic designer, he suggested calling his co-designers for assistance, but everyone cried they were broke. I called a few friends, and they were able to help me out with N30,000 with the N20,000 my sister and her husband were able to raise, and that was how they were able to make deposits with a few days' deadline to pay the remaining. Time was against us since the duration was too short. As the whole thing pressed on us, my younger brother looked at me and said, "I have an idea. Give me a sec."
He rushed inside the room and returned with his laptop. "I need to advertise urgent designs for clients with a 25% discount for companies only." I have done that before when I needed urgent money, and it worked." Quickly he went to WhatsApp and posted it on his WhatsApp.
"Wait, we have to find another alternative. How can you even think of designing graphics with this kind of situation? I asked with strong conviction that it's not possible.
"Yeah, I understand the deadline is around the corner, but I can still achieve this if I see a contract and set laziness aside and use my time effectively."
Two days passed with no message from anyone showing interest, but he never relented; he continued reposting it daily. We sat devising another means of generating the money; I remember I had small fund on Hive, but it wasn't up to what we needed. I was about to trade it when he got a message notification. “Two messages!” he exclaimed. “Two clients are interested!” he said with a quick smile on his face. He chatted with them and in agreement, the work started.
We were relieved. He sent some flyers to them, and they transferred the money. Quickly we sent N25,000 to them. My sister promised to find a way of balancing the remaining balance.
After a week plus, she called us; her voice was sounding calm and better. "Mary, you people have tried. He's getting better now, though he's not talking yet, but she can now move his body and see people."
I felt relieved; my brother saw the excitement on my face and smiled. After the call dropped, he said, "I'm happy everything worked out at last."
It was until that day I realized that truly the gift of time is not all about having it all but how you handle things that matters. With our teamwork as a family, we were able to fight the combat, and our effort was part of what restored life to Jerry.
