By I arrived in Ibadan from my work base in Warri shortly after the conclusion of Nigeria’s 2023 general elections — around the end of March. I think it was early on a Sunday morning, and we were getting ready for church. As workers and ordained ministers, our duty is to be in church by 7:00 a.m. at the latest.
I remember stepping out of the bath and seeing her lift her left hand, examining something under her armpit, somewhere around the axillary region; and, then, looking deeply into my eyes, she said very softly, “See something here.”
My heart skipped. Fear surged down my spine. I knew the meaning of “see something here” when a hand is raised to the armpit! It was clear that the monster had made its way into my home — albiet uninvited.
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In the past, I had seen her checking herself in the mirror while applying cream, ensuring that nothing unusual was sprouting on her body. We had both attended seminars and workshops where women were urged to, regularly, examine themselves, especially around the chest region during or after bath. So, when I heard “see something” with her armpit raised, I knew something terrible had happened.
I reached out to examine the spot and felt a large lump extending deep into her chest. I saw it — a lump with a tip like a beak, like the face of a bird. I was stunned! I sank to the floor and yelled out, “What’s this, Lord?” Hot tears streamed down my face. I broke down completely, sobbing in tears.
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Perhaps wondering why I was so distraught, she asked quietly, “Am I going to die? Or am I dead already?”
“No!” I cried. “You won’t die, and you’re not dead. But why have you kept this from me until now? Why didn’t you tell me on phone?”
According to her, she had discovered the lump around October the previous year (2022) and had gone to the University Health Centre, where she was referred to UCH for further tests. All of this, she had done without telling me.
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So, behind my back, the mother of our only daughter — my Deebabe, the Iya Eko herself, the woman with the heart of a lion, the very best of the Obasoyin Princesses — had been fighting a battle I knew nothing about. How blind I had been! Then she handed me the result of the last test she’d undergone — a biopsy — which had taken several days to process. The verdict was devastating: Invasive Carcinoma of the very aggressive type!
I do not write this to expose what should ordinarily remain a family matter, nor to trade blame, nor to justify anyone. I write to shame sickness. I write to shame the grave. I write to tell the devil that he did not win this war, though he won that battle. And I write to advise, encourage, and warn other women who may one day find themselves in a similar situation — to damn the consequences of speaking out. Let those around you know your plight, no matter how awkward or shameful it may seem. Who wakes up to invite sickness into his or her body?
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A problem shared, it is often said, is a problem half solved. My wife was a reticent woman — very bashful. She often fought her battles alone. Often, what we heard were only her testimonies. But what if she hadn’t won, as had happened on some occasions before this deadly one?
As I sank to the floor, weeping over the bombshell she had dropped, my mind raced back to how I had often taken up similar health challenges faced by others, ensuring that their situations were well managed until victory came. Here was a woman who would never rest until a health issue brought to her attention was resolved. Here was a woman married to a man who would go to any length to find a solution to other people’s challenges — if only he knew about them. And yet, here I was, unaware that fire was burning beneath my own roof.
Women reading this, please — damn the shame and speak up when life-threatening situations arise. No one prays for wahala, but when it comes, you mustn’t fight alone. The solution you seek might be in the next room, or in the hands of the neighbour you’re hiding it from.
As I often told my church members — including my late wife — if you hide your challenges out of shame, when things finally spiral out of control, what you’ve tried to conceal will, eventually, become public knowledge. So, sister, speak up! Bro, speak up! And do so early!
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As the sun began to set, what reasons did she give for refusing to tell me about her health challenge, despite my being in Ibadan in November 2023 and, again, during the Christmas and New Year celebrations of that same year?
To be continued…..
Ebenezer writes from Warri, Delta State. This series signal the countdown to the one-year anniversary of the passage of his beloved wife, Princess Denise Yetunde Adurokiya.
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