Dr Babito

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Hello Darlings,

So I fell into a black hole devoid of internet connection. I have been trying to post this story since last week. Finally, I was able to poke my head out of the hole and Voilà!!!

Here it is, do Enjoy!!!

 

It still feels surreal, like a dream I could just wake up from any minute now. I have just been inducted!

I, Chidiebere Walters a.k.a Babito have just been inducted into the medical and Dental Counsel of Nigeria. I am now a Medical Doctor!

Sweeet!

Every single day of medical school stands out clearly in my memory, like a carefully sketched drawing. The sounds, the laughter, the faces, all so fresh and vibrant. I am feeling very nostalgic so I am going to take you through two of my many embarrassing moments in medical school.

Just to correct the popular but undeserved impression, I’m not a drunk. I just probably have a hormonal imbalance or rather a slight chromosomal abnormality or defect that makes me seem/look drunk. I’m light skinned and sometimes after straight four hours in class, I look flushed, my very light brown eyes become half hidden by my eye lids which are always permanently at a half mast making me always look tipsy. I am lanky and when I walk, I have a slight dopey/swaying gait which does nothing to improve on the already drunken impression people have of me.

One time, my girlfriend bought me a fake Smart collection perfume that seemed to have a lot of alcohol in it, each time I sprayed it, I smelt of alcohol. There was no way I could throw it away, it was a gift from my babe and knowing females, if I had thrown it away, it would have led to a war akin to the Trojan war so I developed thick skin and used it for an entire month during which I smelled like a gin distillery.

But believe me, I Chidiebere Walters a.k.a Babito ain’t no drunk. Nobody believes me though.

To worsen issues, I open my mouth to speak and before I utter a word people are already laughing. It’s something I ought to have been used to but sometimes it was just plain annoying. Nobody took me seriously.

I was like the poster boy for alcoholism.

I remember one time during Psychiatry lecture in my early fifth year, the Consultant was talking about alcoholism and Alcoholics Anonymous.
“Is there an alcoholic in this class?” he asks jovially. Tittering erupts from different corners and names were flung about. Amadi…Johnson…Babito and suddenly more than half of the class were chanting my name. ‘Babito…Babito.’

I am one of the back benchers and there is this pillar slightly by my left and I duck behind it.

“Who’s Babito?” he asks, his eyes shining with barely suppressed curiosity. He follows their gazes and sights my oblong head as I try vainly to duck behind the pillar. His neck elongates as he tries to see my face and then he snaps, “Stand up.”

The class quieted in anticipation as I stood languorously. I was wearing a Tee shirt with the very loud inscription ‘Let’s get down tonight’ and blue jeans, it was a Friday and on Friday’s I took casuals to an extreme. He looked me over and shook his head. ‘And he’s even dressed like one’, he shook his head again. I wait expectantly for him to ask me to sit down but he doesn’t. He looks me up and down in that very derisive way well known to women and shakes his head again reminding me of puppets from the Sound of music with their head bobbing up and down. I try not to smile.

“So you are an alcoholic?” he asks. I open my mouth to speak and closed it again knowing that anything I say will make my very captive classmates start laughing, even if it is the most un-humorous thing. He ignores me and turns to the rest of the class. “Who has heard of Alcoholics Anonymous?” murmurs erupt but he turns to me, “Have you?”

I nod.

“Speak out,” he snaps.

I swallow convulsively as I feel eyes on me. I am Tupac-All eyes on me. “Yes Sir,” I say in my throaty voice. True to my expectation, a couple of girls in front giggle loudly.

“That’s good.” He goes to sit on the table in front of the class, his long legs dangling a few inches from the ground. He picks up a handout by his side, flips through it and looks up. “Pretend you are at an AA meeting and introduce yourself.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me.”

More titters and giggles erupt from every corner, some of my classmates even turn an entire 180 degrees to face me. I clear my throat and start. “Hello everybody,” I begin without flinching. I seek the Consultants gaze and hold it. “My name is Babito and I’m an alcoholic.”

I manage to finish the introduction without breaking character with my eyes firmly fixed on his. The giggles get louder with some laughing real hard and hitting the tables, my friend Kunle was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his cheeks, he wipes them with the back of his palm and continues laughing, his coconut head rolling from side to side.

The Consultant steps down from his perch on the table and adjusts his elegantly tailored navy blue blazers. “That’s all for today,” he announces, picking up his scattered papers. He nods to me and struts out.

From that day we became friends. I called him, ‘My Chief or my Oga’ and he calls me, ‘Babito my guy.’

So currently, I’m trying not to laugh so loud. Please don’t forget to drop your comments.
Have a flawless week!!!

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I'm a world class Zoner, endlessly spinning tales out of nothing, some of them utterly ludicrous and guaranteed to get your sides in stitches from laughing non stop... That should be all for now...

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