Well, if yesterday didn’t exactly go according to my time frame, today most definitely did not.  Amira and Nico woke up in the middle of the night, both crying, feverish, and feeling “ever so not well” as Charlie and Lola would say (a favorite cartoon of Amira’s).  After getting them back to sleep, I gave myself a pep talk for the anticipated trip to the doctor we would have to take in the morning.  

 

We left for St. Francois at 10:30 am and arrived back at the house by 2 pm.  My past lessons of not packing enough for long waits aided me well during this occasion.  We were definitely on our last “trick” by the end, but we made it through the entire time without too many outbursts.  Mike wanted to run a quick errand. Knowing the wait would be considerable, we thought we’d make the most of time since time was on our side.  The quick errand had Mike intended to run kept him out for over an hour.  i was so busy trying to keep the kids entertained that I didn’t really notice he was gone so long.  When Mike finally entered the waiting room, his eyes were looking energized.  My eyes got grew with curiosity when he said “I got stopped by the police.”  Didn’t I just write in an earlier blog that we were told it was a matter of WHEN rather than IF we would get stopped by the police... “when” came all too quickly!  This is the story Mike told me:  

 

“I forgot to put my seatbelt on when I left the hospital compound but remembered when I stopped at the first intersection.  As I was clicking the seatbelt, three police officers on the corner noticed me and started motioning.  They pulled up beside me and directed me to pull off to the side of the road. They said, “Park well well.”  One of the police officers gestured to me to unlock the door...so I rolled down my window and asked, “What is the problem?” The other officers walked up to also gesture to let Mrs. Policewoman in. Again, I asked, “What is the problem? Did I cause trouble?” The female police officer asked for my driver’s license. And proceeded to tell me, “We are taking you to the booking station for seatbelt violation. So unlock your door.”

 

I opened the door for Mrs. Officer. She again requested for my driver’s license.

I said, “It’s in processing. I don’t have the proper license. I have only been in Nigeria for three months. And my mission agency is working on getting the proper license from Jos. I only have this receipt as proof of processing.”

She responded, “Ok, go we are taking you to the booking station.”

I said, “For not having a proper license?”

“No for seatbelt violation” she reminded me.

I said to her, “When you saw me at the corner, before your partners motioned to me to pull over, did I not have my seatbelt on. You saw with your own eye that my seatbelt was in place.”

The other two officers jumped, “Sir, are you calling us liars!”

Quickly, I replied, “Of course not. You are trying to keep the laws here in Abuja. And in Abuja, I’m realizing that it is not like other parts of Nigeria. So that is why I put my seatbelt on, at the first intersection from the hospital parking lot. Before you saw me and before you motioned to me to pull over. That is all. I knew I should have stayed with my family at the hospital and not have left to run errands.”

“Go with us. We are taking you to be booked for seatbelt violation.”

My reply, “Ok, let’s go.”

 

The two gents of police officers led me with their motorcycle and the female officer stayed in my vehicle. After about five blocks of driving, the police motorcycle pulled over and gestured for me to follow suit. “Where is the booking station?” I wondered out loud.

The two male officers came to the window, their partner in my vehicle rolled down the window. Clearly the lead officers of this traffic control, the police said, “Sir, because of your family’s situation, we will not take you to the booking station. We have decided that between ourselves. But we thought you were a decent citizen. And you haven’t even apologized to us.”

I said, “You’re right. I’m sorry for taking your important time. I’m sorry for this.”

“Thank you, you are a decent citizen,” they replied. “Since you are a decent citizen, we will not take you to the booking station.”

I responded, “So now what are we going to do?”

They chipped in, “Yes, what are we going to do?” “Sir, for the motorcycle fuel and our time, what will you do?”

What I knew since nearly the beginning of our time together, I finally said, “A bride for you. I am not going to give you a bribe. It is against my beliefs. I already told why I am in Abuja. I am a missionary and I will not bride.”

The lead officer again, “Sir, if it is dash (or gift) then it not a bribe. A dash comes from the heart.”

I laughed. “Oh, a dash is a gift from the heart. Good then I have this dash for you and this I will give you.” I handed each of them a small ‘Today’ devotional. And said, “Here’s two more for your friends and for taking your time.”

They all smiled. And thanked me.

  

Mike plays the game well, don’t you think!

 

As strange as the whole morning was, Mike’s fairy-tale-ending police story at least made for a good story and some laughter as time ticked on during our long wait.

 

Both Amira and Nico have tonsillitis.  It was a lonely experience waiting at St. Francois.  The routines are completely unfamiliar.  The names of medicines are different.  In general, I love accents and hospitals.  But as I listened to the European accent today sitting in this hospital, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I strained to understand what was wrong with my children.  

 

Mike had a teaching engagement at 5 that evening.  I attempted to do the medicine routine by myself and failed miserably. Nico, the floor, and the counter looked like a medicine bottle had exploded in our kitchen.  Didn’t I used to be a child life specialist???  You’d think I could have thought of a more civilized way to get his medicine to go down (I had to result with the whole pinch the cheeks thing)...or at least a neater way would have been good.  

 

Not the best start to a new week...

 

photo:  papers, papers, papers!  The one I really wanted to share was the receipt from our pharmacy where we got some of Nico’s meds...Cuteman Pharmacy & Stores.  I just love Nigerian store names!