toykathy:
ftc, dancing shoki. Lemme go n read d story

LewisO:

[size=14pt]I tire o, i don't even understand the message the post is passing. [/size]

buoye1:
YOU BETTER keep quite if you dont know royver!!!!!!!!!!!!! follow the tory and you ll testify

read:i see things others do not see by royver and you ll bow!

[size=14pt]Go home and tell them to keep quiet.

If i didn't deduce to how does that affect u? [/size]

LewisO:

[size=14pt]Go home and tell them to keep quiet.

If i didn't deduce to how does that affect u? [/size]

buoye1:
very wicket sister!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!you know the love i av for royver's stories and you never mentioned it to me.......issorai,ayam here myself.......................congrats on your FTC

rapmike:
Wow, is that it? That is so wonderful that I can't find the word to describe it.


Errm, Royver can you mentor me, please? Abeg, ejo, please. But at least help me give your comments and criticism on my ongoing story: Tade- the rise of an activist.

Royver:

ok send me the link lemme have a look

firestar:


Jiraiya the Third.

.....

Meanwhile....
Crystal piece.

You just made the medical profession as delectable as mine. Blood, guts, nausea...
Loved all of it.

Centje! Come o! Rovyer can make blood seem like ketchup, guts as assorted candied peel and vomit as my favourite bowl of oats!



[ Eats a sandwich and wonders what it resembles...]

Royver:


Ewwwwww

rapmike:
Soda soap as in Canoe bar-soap?

That's ridiculous, though possible.

Poverty at its peak.

Royver:
She came into my office with huge pleading eyes, like she wanted to report something to me but didn't know how. her skin was covered in blisters and dried up rashes and I squirmed in my seat as I imagined how those blemishes would feel to her. As i watched she itched and scratched and i involuntarily found myself doing the same.

Her parents followed soon after. Her father, a no-nonsense looking type of man, walked in proudly in his dirty blue overall and straw hat. No one needed to tell me he was a labourer and a hard-working one at that. his small stature was easily lost in his towering demeanor as he looked down at me through his thick mustache as i sat on my chair. I resisted the urge to stand up and salute him.

His wife came in next. She wore a bright yellow blouse and two wrappers wrapped around her thick waist. She smelt as bad as he did and seemed to have this "I-dare-you-to-say-anything-about-my-smell look. They ordered the child to sit down and then glared at me like i was the cause of their problems. I smiled but they didn't reciprocate. It wasn't anger I saw though but pride. Proud parents both of them. It dawned on me suddenly that their pride would have and would continue to bring them a lot of grief in this life.

'Good afternoon sir, madam.' I enthused. "What can I do for you?"

"This is our daughter." The man said, pulling the little girl towards me. I guessed her age at ten and then looked at her card: six.

Man, she looked old.

"She has rashes on her body, we have been treating it and treating it but it refuse go". The man explained in his near perfect english. I decided to relax him a bit.

"Ehen, as the rash no go wetin una come do na? Una no fit clap for am make e run comot?" I smiled.

The girl giggled.

The woman hid her grin behind her hand.

The man said nothing. Just looked at me deadpan like; This is a serious matter and you are joking?

"Like i said doctor, this rash has been here for a long time." He said slowly and deliberately. it was obvious he didnt come to hospital for the laughs.

I stopped smiling immediately.

"How long?" I queried.

"Three years now." He replied. "We have tried rubbing cream, palm oil, crude oil, snail (at this point my jaw dropped),

"Snail"

The man glared at me.

"Yes doctor. SNAIL"

I pretended i understood and nodded sympathetically.

"Even the snail did not work. We now started using hydraulic because my friend tell me hydraulic treat anything."


"Did it work?" I asked with mock curiousity.

"Not at all. Doctor I have tried all I can, and wasted so much money. I decided to come to hospital to see if we can run test." he finished finally.

I asked the now scared looking girl to stand up. When most kids are being handled by a doctor they think we are going to magically bring an injection and needle from somewhere and jab them with it. Many a children's doctor has found himself chasing round a room trying to catch a child that has made up its mind to protect his or her bum from that horrible magical needle, usually the mother assists in trapping the little buggers. On my own part I try to play with the child a little and gain thier trust. Its easierto examine a child and make a diagnosis when they are not screaming the office down in sheer terror.

So i called this six year old girl and she began to panic. So i asked her about her rashes. I showed her the scar on my right hand to and scratched it vigorously, getting her to realise i knew what she was suffering. Finally she helped me scratch my rash and allowed me to examine her. During the few seconds I used to gain her trust her dad watched me like a hawk.

"Doctor should we hold her down?" he finally asked.

"No, no, just be patient please." I encouraged. The mother said nothing and watched from afar off.

I finally got her to show me her rashes and even to pull her dress which she did willingly.

her body was covered with the stuff. They looked like abrasion marks, the kind of thing you see when you scrape your knee on cement floor. She winced when i touched them but did not cry. At the end of my examination I took a sweet from a corner of my desk that i kept handy for such occasions and looking at the father first for approval, gave it to her. She smiled sweetly in thanks and proceeded to open the wrapper noisily.

"Do you have any other children sir?" I asked. he shook his head, no.

"Do any of the other kids in the compound have the same rashes?"

Another no.

"What kind of water do you use?"

"Pipe bourne water from overhead tank." the mustached father replied brusquely.

"And this rash has been there for three years?"

"Yes sir." he replied.

I sat back and pondered. I had seen these rashes before somewhere, I just couldn't bring it to mind just yet. I looked at the parent's skin. They were hard and brittle-looking, but then they were honest hardworking folk, i wasn't expecting their skin to be soft...

And then it hit me.

"Excuse me, what kind of soap is this girl bathing with?"

"Cutting-cutting soap." The man replied.

"Which one is cutting-cutting..."

"Soda sir. We use soda to baff her..."

"WHAAAAAAT?" I shouted. "Why would you do that? why would you bathe a small child like this with soda soap?"

"But, I bathe with it and it does nothing to me. Even my wife bathes with it...Its very affordable. We started bathing baby with it three years ago..."

rapmike:
Soda soap as in Canoe bar-soap?

That's ridiculous, though possible.

Poverty at its peak.

Coldfaya:



See u! Canoe soap is even ahead of soda in the pecking order so u can imagine. Soda is locally made.

Mehn persin don see suffer head small sha. God I thank You for today.

hahn:


Lovely story. Your writing style is very cool. Following

vonn:
Lol
Cutting-cutting soap.
As in TRUCK green bar soap
OR
CANOPY white soap