Dery Jemima Nontaa

Pascal pulled up on the dark, untarred and deserted street. It was 4am in the morning and no one could be seen on the road. There were no street lights and each side had dry harmattan bushes. Pascal could literally hear his heartbeat any time he drove down this road for his usual dawn evangelism. Armed robbers were known to hide in the bushes to attack unsuspecting persons especially on community market days. Pascal's heart ceased racing as he pulled into the coal tarred road with street lights. It was a major highway street. As he approached the traffic lights, he saw a figure lying across the lonely road. He quickly pulled his brakes to avoid crushing into this figure. With a puzzled yet frightened look he looked through his windscreen. He saw hair being blown by the cold harmattan wind. He figured this would be a human being. He looked left and right just to make sure this was not another robbery trick. He came down slowly from his car and moved toward the figure. He noticed blood stains on the ground. Oh my God! He shouted as he knelt beside this figure. He took the feeble hand on the ground and felt the pulse. Immediately he took out his phone to call the community ambulance. He then remembered that the ambulance had been out of service for almost a year now. Slowly he lifted the figure from the ground, put her at the back seat of his car and drove straight to the hospital. After honking several times, the nurses at the front desk lazily walked towards the entrance. He signaled to them that it was an emergency. There came a fat nurse dragging a stretcher lazily towards him. They gently lifted the dying lady in unto the stretcher.