THE DARKEST DAYS

 

 

"Where is my blood? Where is my blood?" a woman cried.

She was sitting on a plank (usually used by traders to advertise their goods) in front of a closed shop.

She folded her arms, wiggled her legs, and after about two to three minutes of biting her lips and nodding her head, she spread her arms in the air and screamed "Where is my blood!"

The second time, she will bite her fingernails, thump her chest and say "My blood, My blood. Where is my blood?" and become silent.

 

People in the street regarded her as a mad fellow and no one identified with her as a neighbor, relative, friend, customer or a familiar passerby.

 

Days, weeks, and months passed, yet, each time I walked along that street, she repeated the same behavior. The owner of the shop she stayed in had travelled (so I heard from people).

 

Different situational analysts began to spread rumors about her condition.

Some said out of sincere sympathy that she might have been suddenly bereaved.

Some said that it was the effect of her trying to kill someone else that backfired.

Some framed that it was the realization of her missing blood pot, which was a daily routine to drink in her kingdom that made her go mad- insinuating that she was a witch.

 Being a woman, some people suspected that her menstrual pad had been used against her, and lots more.

People forbade going close to her less an evil befall them from her touch, as they thought.

 

I constantly held back tears on hearing her scream.

 

With the help of my friend, I was able to get a team of psychiatrist to the location.

This supposed mad woman did not struggle with the team when they tried to take her. Instead, she held the hands of a member and asked "Where is my blood?"

They directed her gently to their vehicle assuring, "we will show you" even though they had no idea what she was talking about.

 

She got close to me as I stood by the vehicle, searched for answers in my eyes and sobbed.

She opened her mouth for words but was held back by the agony in her heart.

She struggled still with her shaky voice and said to me "You are a woman like I am. Please, did you see my blood?" and broke down again.

 

Michael, the head of the team, comforted her with these words: "The darkest days might seem like the end of the world but remember that right in the dead of the night, the dawn of a new day lurks. Just don't hurt yourself before it dawns for 'the birds will sing again'". He signaled his team to help her into the car and said "Let's go".

 

If there were a fire outbreak in this vicinity, would it linger for months before the arrival of the fire fighters? 

If a thief were caught or a wanted criminal sighted, would they not be handed over to the police? 

If a woman suddenly fell into labor in public, would the humanity in us not be seen? 

If there were an accident, casualty or a sudden collapse of a person, would there not be a call for an emergency? 

Who would begin to think of an evil done by the victim that backfired at that point? 

Why is there such stigma on mental health issues? 

Are they not worth the rescue like every other casualty even the pandemic?

 

Beautiful people, as you begin this new week, be compassionate towards all, and NEVER take your mental health for granted.

 

You are loved.

PS: 'the birds will sing again' is an excerpt from YF 's quotes