— A diligent worker
Predestination: chapter 4
Not minding the day’s job of helping patients’ families locate where to get a hospital file, to getting supplies and lifting heavy objects, Tunji lived up to his name.
With the belief that he was made for more, he tried hard to regain his memory of where he had come from and what he could do to return to his journey.
Also Read Predestination: Chapter 3
Since his accident at the interchange at Sagamu, he thought he could have been heading towards Ogun State or travelling to Lagos. As often as he could, he would ask people who could read the newspaper to help him check if there was a missing person announcement.
It’s been two months of working without gaining his memory. Dr. Solanke, who had closely monitored his adaptation to the hospital environment, called him to the consultation room after seeing his tenth patient for the day.
“Come in, made for more!” He called to Tunji, who introduced himself after a slight knock on the door.
“Doctor, so you have a good sense of humour like this? Since the day everyone heard the name, they have refused to call me any other name. I wish I could just remember my real name—you know, the name my parents gave to me the day I was born. I really wish to know the name.
“In Yoruba land, if there is anything I know deep in my big head, it is that we don’t joke with names. We know how significant a child’s name can be in determining if he would do well in life or not. Maybe one of the reasons I have faced this sort of challenge in my life could be because I wasn’t given the right name. I must try to speak with Nurse Joke tomorrow and ask her to help me compile some names people from Lagos and Ogun States give to their sons; maybe I might just have my memory restored. I have learnt in this hospital that when a patient is leaving this world untimely, calling out their names can help bring them back, if God wills it.
“Doctor, I must beg Nurse Joke to not only write out these names but call them out; who knows, I may just be given a second chance at leaving an anonymous life.”
“This is one of the reasons I called for you; you have a way of making a day lightened with your reasoning.”
Taking his time to get up from the chair in the room now partially dimmed, Dr. Solanke, a man now close to his retirement, stretched his back a little and called to Tunji, who stood opposite him with a worn look.
“Follow me to the canteen; will you not rather have a hot meal than wallow in something you have no power over?”
