The desperate billionaire

Chapter 5:Standing at the hospital Gate

The matatu ride to the hospital was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The small van was packed with so many people that we were sitting pressed against each other like sardines in a tin. The driver was playing loud music and driving so fast that I had to hold on tightly to the seat in front of me to avoid being thrown around. Every time he stopped suddenly or turned a corner sharply, my stomach would jump and I would feel sick.

I looked out the window and watched the city passing by. Everything was so different from my village. There were shops selling things I did not even know existed. There were restaurants with pictures of food displayed outside that looked so delicious and expensive. There were people dressed in suits and high heeled shoes, walking with confidence like they owned the world. And everywhere I looked, there were advertisements and billboards showing beautiful people with perfect skin and white teeth, selling everything from soap to mobile phones.

After what felt like a very long time, the matatu conductor shouted "Central City Hospital" and I quickly gathered my bag and got off. I stood on the pavement and looked up at the huge building in front of me. It was the biggest building I had ever seen in my life, made of glass and white stone, stretching up so high into the sky that I could barely see the top.

My legs suddenly felt weak. What was I doing here? Who did I think I was, a poor village woman with no education and no money, coming to this fancy hospital to offer my kidney to a billionaire? The people walking in and out of the hospital all looked so important and well dressed. I looked down at my simple dress and my dusty shoes and felt ashamed.

For a moment, I thought about turning around, getting back on the matatu, and going home to my village where I belonged. But then I remembered the voice in my heart, the one that had brought me all this way. I remembered my late husband's words about helping others. I remembered my promise to myself that I would at least try.

So I took a deep breath, whispered a quick prayer, and walked toward the hospital entrance. The security guard at the gate looked at me suspiciously as I approached. He was a big man in a uniform, and he had the kind of face that showed he was used to keeping poor people like me from entering places like this.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a rough voice, blocking my path with his body.

"I want to see the doctors," I said, trying to sound confident even though my voice was shaking. "I heard on the radio about a man who needs a kidney. I want to get tested to see if I can help him."

The security guard looked at me like I was crazy. He laughed, a loud mocking laugh that made me feel small and foolish. "You?" he said, still laughing. "You want to donate a kidney to Mr. Adrian Thompson? Do you even know who he is? He is one of the richest men in this country. Why would someone like you want to give him your kidney?"

His words hurt me, but I stood my ground. "I heard he is sick and needs help," I said quietly. "I do not care if he is rich or poor. A sick person is a sick person. God gives us two kidneys, and if I can save someone's life with one of mine, then I should try."

The security guard stopped laughing and looked at me more carefully, like he was trying to decide if I was genuine or if I was some kind of troublemaker. "Wait here," he finally said, and he went to make a phone call.

I stood there waiting, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable as people walked past me, some of them staring at me curiously. I could hear them whispering to each other, probably wondering what a village woman was doing at this expensive hospital.

After a few minutes, the security guard came back. "The nurses say you can go in," he said, sounding surprised. "Go to the third floor, kidney department. They will talk to you there."

I thanked him and walked through the hospital entrance, my heart pounding so hard I thought everyone could hear it. Inside, the hospital was even more impressive than outside. The floors were so clean and shiny I could almost see my reflection in them. The walls were painted in soft colors and had beautiful pictures hanging on them. There were comfortable looking chairs arranged in the waiting areas, and plants in big pots that looked green and healthy.

I found the elevator, which was another thing I had never used before. I watched other people pressing buttons and getting into the small moving room, and I tried to copy what they did. When the elevator started moving up, I felt my stomach drop and I grabbed onto the railing, scared that I might fall.

When I reached the third floor and the doors opened, I stepped out into a corridor that smelled of medicine and cleaning products. I followed the signs that said "Kidney Department" until I came to a desk where two nurses were sitting, writing in big books and typing on computers.

One of the nurses looked up when she saw me approaching. She was a young woman with a kind face, and she smiled at me in a way that made me feel a little less nervous.

"Hello," she said gently. "Are you the lady who came about donating a kidney?"

"Yes," I answered, my voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Aisha Mwangi. I heard about the sick man on the radio, and I want to help if I can."

The nurse looked at me with a mixture of surprise and something else I could not quite identify. Maybe it was respect, or maybe it was pity. "Please sit down," she said, pointing to a chair. "I need to ask you some questions first, and then we will talk about what happens next."