03/08/2021
CONSEQUENCES OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT (PART ONE): IGBO EZE NORTH AS A SAMPLE
Joyce had earlier wanted to do her financial transactions with the POS agent at the petrol station near Good Message Hospital where her son laid helplessly, gasping for air.
"Aunty, this your card has expired o," the young woman in her late thirties said to her. She was already attending to another customer who stood akimbo with long beard. He wasn't smiling at anyone. He too, looked worried and unkempt.
"What did you say, nwannemchi?" Joyce asked in awe.
"Check the expiry date naah," the young woman replied again, not looking at her, this time. She had a piece of gum which she chewed continually. Her complexion was such a confusing one - a mixture of half-baked brown and fair colours. She had settled the young man in long beards and then picked her piece of broken mirror and pancake brush; perhaps, she wanted to repaint her already fading whitish colour.
"Chei, let me rush to Nsukka then." Joyce was already talking to herself while leaving the office. She hurriedly boarded a motorcycle that took her to Nsukka park. Chiedu, her husband had sent them the one hundred thousand naira demanded by the hospital before commencing treatment on their only son; a boy of ten years. Her plan was to withdraw the money and rush back to the cashier since it was a stone's throw but now, she had to go to Nsukka to purchase another Automatic Teller Machine (ATM) card before making the withdrawal because THERE WAS NO BANK IN THE WHOLE OF IGBO EZE NORTH where one could do such.
It was already some minutes past five. Ajuluchukwu, her son was taking his last breath and the nurses had become so worried. Since non of them had her phone number, they only showed concern to the young man but couldn't do more. They had to wait for his mother. They only stroked his head and told him 'sorry, _kah, ndo, gbaga.'
Just some poles after Umeanor Junction, two young men in a motorcycle double-crossed them - Joyce and the man at the front, fondly called onye Okada. The Okada rider who was on top speed had to swerve the motorcycle to be on the safe side. They had already brought out pistols even when Joyce and the Okada rider were already in the gutter with bruises.
"Oya give us the money, osiso!" They commanded.
Some hours later, Chiedu started calling seriously. A medical nurse beside her at the emergency room of Hope in God Hospital, Ibagwa-Aka answered him because she was too weak to pick a call. Their son had died - the only hope they had had for years after battling with infertility.
The above fiction satirically and systematically exposes the consequences of a sort of problem a local government as large as Igbo Eze North could face due to the absence of at least, one commercial bank under it.
If you were Chiedu, how would you see your place, the government, the stakeholders, those at the helm of affairs and top bank officials who are sons and daughters of Igbo Eze North? Do you know that someone elsewhere may be passing through such trauma? Do you know it could happen to anyone tomorrow, including yourself?
Why not do your best and help Igbo Eze North out of underdevelopment now that you can?
๐๏ธ Concerned Igbo Eze North Youths (CINY)