How Coronavirus Nearly Killed Me – Anayo Nwosu

” Yes! I was infected. I suffering from it. I’m still recovering. I’m in isolation.”

Don’t join the chorus of those who for whatever reasons or alliances choose to say or publish things that could make gullible but innocent people loosen their guards on this dangerous virus manufactured from the pit of hell.

I write this piece from the throne of grace or the protective custody of my creator. Perhaps, it’s simply not yet time for me to die finally because I died and resurrected. I used my eyes to see my two ears. I, Ikenga Ezenwegbu, was practically joining my ancestors until something asked me to come down from the bus to urinate.

And I came down.

The fever was so much that my bed sheet was boiling in a pot of hot sweats oozing from my body. The coughing was at another level. It would come like a tide of raised waves from the ocean threatening to pull down or collapse my rib cage. It came in torrents. It hurt each time it came.

I was gifted in that the switches controlling my sleep and my troubles have never been co-located. I have always found ways of sleeping even under life-liquidating problems or situations to the amazement of most people around me.

So, on the Day 3 of the COVID-19 high fever night, I fell at sleep, a slumbering one for that matter but not without my nasal musical melodies my wife deride as snoring. The sleep was a respite.

Then, I found myself inside a bus, a beautiful, clean and spacious luxurious bus with so many not happy looking passengers. The conductor was busy loading more people into the bus.

While on the bus, I observed that I couldn’t make out faces of other passengers but many of them appeared familiar. I couldn’t also locate the direction where the driver was seated. The vehicle would in on breath look like a luxurious bus and in another look like a wide-bodied aircraft used from London to the US. It was that large.

The bus was set to depart when I shouted at the conductor, “abeg make I piss”, I wanted to ease myself. He wouldn’t listen to me hence stoking my suspicion that this bus meant no well for me. I didn’t also know or ask for its destination. I had to take my destiny in my own hands.

I had perfected a way of breaking surreal dreams right from childhood. I would just wake up and would refuse to complete the dream. I believe that many souls have been lost by the dreamers carelessly completing dangerous dreams. Not me! Not now!

I forced myself out of the bus to go and “piss” only to rattle my wife who praying by my side as she was worried about the never receding fever.

My wife listened with rapt attention as I told her about my bus experience and she was happy that I jumped down to “pissed”.

But, I never went back to bed or sleep that night to avoid being kidnapped into that bus. I guessed that the bus was used to collect victims of coronavirus. Not me.

Until I crossed the most challenging period of the sickness, I ensured that I broke my periods of sleep. I never entered any bus, aircraft or even Keke NAPEP in my sleep.

Thank God my family members tested negative. I skipped my morning and night inhalation. I won’t make that kind of mistake again.

My dear friends, please wear your face masks. Follow the instructions from NCDC. Avoid crowded areas. Watch your hands with water and soap.

I must have dropped the ball somehow and nearly died for so doing.

That was how my great plans for Christmas and New Year including my book’s launch took the back seat. What’s primary for me now is to get well.