Reflecting on a Past Decision: A Personal Story from 20 Years Ago

It is my habit to share past stories on significant birthdays. These stories come from reflecting on my life and experiences over the years.

As I approached my 60th birthday, I started to think about whether I acted the right way on an occasion that happened soon after my 40th birthday. This was in 2006. The recent Call-to-Bar ceremonies for new lawyers in Abuja made me remember the incident from 20 years ago.

In August 2006, at the Nigerian Law School on Victoria Island, Lagos, I was among about three or four thousand Bar aspirants taking that year’s exams. I clearly remember that it was the night before we were to write the Civil Law Procedure paper. Those who know the Law School syllabus will agree with me that Civil Law Procedure was the most extensive course at that time.

It was close to midnight and I was in a reading room on campus, buried in my books and notes, trying to study as much as possible before heading back to my hotel room in Victoria Island. I could not get accommodation on campus, so I stayed in a hotel opposite Bar Beach. My friend, Senator Tokunbo Afikuyomi, helped me arrange that accommodation as his support for my success in the exams. May Almighty Allah (SWT) bless him.

As I struggled to memorize the different rules and orders provided for legal issues by the procedural laws of Lagos, Kano, and Abuja, a young man appeared beside me and greeted me. He politely asked if I owned the Hyundai Sonata parked outside the gate. After I said yes, he said: “Sir, one of our mates is in labour and we need you to help us get her to the hospital.” I was confused and just stared at him. It was when he mentioned it was an emergency that I snapped out of my confusion. I quietly packed my things and asked where the lady was.

He told me to get the car ready while they brought her. As if I was in a trance, I got behind the wheel and waited for them. They got in and I started driving without asking which hospital we were going to. They said we should go to the Military Hospital at the beginning of Awolowo Road in Ikoyi. I just drove on, it was already past midnight.

I did not even look at my passengers. Up till today, I cannot recognize the lady who was in labour or her friends. On our way, someone suggested calling her mother. They asked who had enough call credit. Without thinking, I volunteered my phone. They called her mother, who was far away in Ikorodu. The mother said it was too late for her to come and would come in the morning.

We got to the hospital and my passengers helped the pregnant lady out of the car and through the stairs to the first floor where the nurses' station was. I parked the car in a way that would make it easy for us to leave.

When I joined them upstairs, I was surprised by what I heard. As a father of three, I knew about ante-natal preparations. I had seen lists of items expectant mothers should prepare before delivery. I also knew about the weekly ante-natal clinic appointments. I had even paid for those items in my case and participated in the clinic sessions with my wife. I knew that during labour, mothers usually go to the hospital where they had their ante-natal checks because only that clinic would have their medical record.

As I joined my colleagues, I heard troubling news. The hospital staff refused to attend to her because she had not registered for ante-natal care there. Also, she did not bring the delivery items needed. It seemed like the lady miscalculated her delivery date and did not expect it while still in school. So, what could we do?

The students started pleading with the medical team to overlook the rules and focus on the urgency. I didn’t know how to intervene. I added my voice, asking the hospital to do whatever could be done.

After both sides remained firm and the medical staff insisted on removing the lady, one passenger whispered to me that the staff would not help because they saw we were there to pressure them. I asked what we should do. They suggested we quietly leave the hospital. They believed if we abandoned her, the hospital would have to help her. I agreed to this plan. I wanted to get back to studying, and the whole situation was getting confusing.

According to the plan, I would leave first to get the car ready. I did that and waited behind the wheel. When the others came in, I drove off. We had technically abandoned the lady, but I convinced myself she was left in good hands.

By the time we left the hospital, it was already early morning on the day of the exam. That afternoon, we finished the civil procedure exam. I checked my phone, which I had left in the car. I noticed a particular number had called twice. Then, it rang again as I scrolled through messages. I answered the call. A woman introduced herself as the mother of the lady we took to the hospital. She wanted to know if we had finished the exam. My heart skipped when I realized who she was.

I felt relieved when I heard there was no worry in her voice. The mother said she had been trying to reach her daughter to find out if she was back at the hospital. Apparently, the lady had successfully delivered her baby early that morning. She felt strong enough to write the exam after her mother arrived at the hospital.

The mother remembered the number the colleagues used to call while she was in Ikorodu. I assured her that the exam had just ended and her daughter was probably about to check her phone. I congratulated her and wished her well.

For a few minutes after that call, I felt relieved. But I also thought about what happened the night before. I remembered I had another exam to prepare for the next day and needed to focus.

What surprises me is how I do not know who the lady is or the identity of her friends who got me to drive her to the hospital. By now, the baby should be about 20 years old.

I have kept thinking about the strength and determination of the lady who went through that painful delivery process, freshened up, and headed to write one of the toughest papers of the exam. She must have been a strong-willed person.

Recently, as I reflected on my life over the past 20 years, that night at the hospital kept playing in my mind. Did we do anything wrong by leaving her there to push the hospital to help her? Would the hospital staff have helped if we were still around? Remember, it was a military hospital. What if our gamble had failed and the hospital refused to help her? If anything had happened to her during delivery, who would take responsibility? Would we be liable for her situation?

I still have many questions. I acted without thinking that night. Did I put myself in danger by not asking questions? What if the people with the pregnant lady were not Law School students? What if they lured me into a trap? Why did I not get their phone numbers or question the decision to leave her at the hospital? I didn’t even see the faces of the lady or her friends.

What if I had asked for the expectant mother's name and number to check on her later? Why didn’t I save her mother’s number to follow up? Did I act inappropriately at any point during this incident?

So many questions. I think the stress of preparing for the exam made it hard for me to think clearly.

Thank God the situation ended well. If the lady who delivered the baby and wrote her exams reads this, I say congratulations! If any of the others from that night see this article, they should feel free to contact me. Thank God for everything. This is the phrase my 60th birthday truly deserves.