The Silent Sanctuary

Shadows Of The Mind

However, hiding her healing work required constant vigilance.

One late afternoon, while Deola was in the middle of wrapping a sprained ankle for mama Blessing - a local petty trader whose husband had beaten her.

She heard the sudden, sharp honk of Jide's Mercedes at the front gate, he was back early from a trip.

Panicked, Deola helped mama Blessing slip out through the small back exit, hurriedly wiping away the traces of rubbing alcohol and hiding her first aid kit under a pile of folded laundry just as Jide walked into the house.

He stormed through the sitting room, inspecting the furniture with a cold , critical eye.

Jide: why does it smell like a chemist's shop in here?

Jide demanded, narrowing his eyes as her approach her..

Deola: " she swallowed hard , keeping her hands folded behind her back to hide her trembling". I ... I was cleaning the tiles with strong disinfectant, Jide. The children brought in dirt from school.

Jide sneered, tossing his letter bag onto the couch.

Jide: make sure you clean properly. I don't want this smelling like a hospital.

He walked away toward his bedroom, completely unaware that right under his roof, the woman he deemed " incapable"was saving lives every single week.

That night, looking at her calloused, caring hands in the mirror, Deola felt a surge of strength.

Jide had denied her a license, but he could never strip away her purpose. She was already a nurse in the eyes of God and her community. The silent sanctuary for everyone who had nowhere else to turn.

SIMI had been begging her mother to teach her about medicine

because she too would want to be a nurse in the future.

She wants to fulfill the dream and aspirations her mother was denied, she vowed never to disappoint Deola her mother and her younger brother Lanre

Afternoon inside the spacious living room of the compound. Rain pours outside, creating a heavy hum against the glass windows. DEOLA sits at the dining table with a silver blood pressure monitor and a blood sugar testing kit, showing fourteen-year-old SIMI how to record measurements in a small ledger.)

DEOLA: (Guiding Simi’s hand as she writes) Always make sure you double-check the systolic reading, Simi. In emergency situations, precision is the difference between catching an early risk and missing a stroke.

SIMI: (Writing carefully, her eyes sharp with focus) 130 over 85... That's slightly elevated, right, Mummy?

DEOLA: (Nodding proudly, stroking Simi’s cheek) Very good. You pick things up faster than I ever did at your age.

(The heavy front entrance door swings open unexpectedly. JIDE enters, shaking rain off his black umbrella. He looks stressed and irritable, his forehead creased with tension.)

JIDE: (Throwing his wet coat over the back of a armchair) Why is the house so dark? Pa Amos was limping at the gate like a crippled man, and now I walk in to find you cluttering the table again.

DEOLA: (Quickly closing the ledger, keeping her composure) Welcome back, Jide. Pa Amos sprained his ankle on the steps yesterday—I gave him some basic pain relievers. We were just organizing the domestic accounts.

JIDE: (Walking slowly toward the table, his gaze dropping to the medical equipment) Pain relievers? Domestic accounts? (He reaches down, picking up the blood pressure cuff, his tone turning dangerously low) Since when do domestic accounts require clinical diagnostic tools, Deola?

SIMI: (Stepping slightly in front of her mother) Daddy, I asked Mummy to show me how it works. It was my idea—

JIDE: (Glaring at Simi, pointing a stern finger) Quiet, Simi! Do not speak when adults are addressing each other. Go to your room. Now!

DEOLA: (Gently placing a hand on Simi's back, whispering soft reassurance) Go upstairs, my love. Check on Lanre. I will be up shortly.

(SIMI hesitates, looking at her father with quiet defiance before walking slowly up the stairs, watching from the top landing shadow.)

JIDE: (Slamming the blood pressure monitor onto the wooden table) How many times do we have to play this game? You think because I travel for business you can turn my compound into a neighborhood clinic?

DEOLA: (Standing up, looking Jide straight in the eye with calm, quiet dignity) Nobody is turning your home into anything, Jide. I helped an elderly man who was in pain. Is mercy now a crime under your roof?

JIDE: (Stepping right into her space, his voice harsh) My roof is governed by my rules! I gave you security, comfort, and a life your family could never dream of. Yet you sit here, feeding our daughter foolish ideas about uniforms and medicine instead of teaching her how to manage a home!

DEOLA: (Her voice trembling slightly, but unwavering) Nursing is not a foolish idea, Jide. It is a noble calling. You stripped my dream away from me, but I will not let you strip away hers.

JIDE: (Laughing bitterly, shaking his head) Stripped your dream? I saved you! You would have been nothing out there! (He grabs the testing kit and blood pressure cuff, turning toward the back hallway) I am throwing all of this garbage into the incinerator. If I catch any medical supplies in this house again, I will lock that front gate permanently and fire every worker on this compound.

(JIDE marches out toward the back door, slamming it behind him.)

DEOLA: (Leaning her hands against the edge of the dining table, taking deep, ragged breaths as a sudden sharp pain tightly grips her chest) Ah...

(SIMI rushes down the stairs, running to her mother's side with wide, terrified eyes.)

SIMI: Mummy! Mummy, what is wrong? Hold on to me!

DEOLA: (Pressing a hand over her heart, forcing a faint, trembling smile as her vision blurs slightly) I am... I am alright, Simi... just tired... so very tired...

(DEOLA sinks onto the chair, clutching Simi’s hand tightly as the screen fades to black on her mounting internal strain.)