A daughter of my own, some day

I had a headache and walked to the neighbourhood clinic. A little girl, about 10 years old, attended to me as I waited for her mother, the nurse, to come back from where she had yet gone.

As soon as I arrived and found the clinic closed, I walked round to the back of the building where I had been directed by a man standing by, to where the nurse lived. I could see through gaps in the curtain overhanging the entrance that the occupants were having supper.

“Kodiii,” I called.

“Karibuuu,” I heard a young girl’s voice respond, followed by the sound of splashing water, of hands being washed, most likely in a plastic dish.

A moment later, the girl stepped out and stood at the door way. I asked her where the “Doctor” was and she told me with a certainty and sense of responsibility far advanced for her age that her mother had walked a patient home and would be back soon. She then asked if I would like to take a seat as I wait for her mother; and added that she would make a phone call to her right away, informing her of my presence.

I blinked my eyes two times. “Of course, I’ll wait,” I said, after I had picked up my jaw from the floor.

She went back inside and brought a blue, plastic chair from the house, then led the way back to the front of the building where she placed the chair down for me to sit near the door of the clinic. I had barely sat when her mother appeared from the across the road. I did not need to sit anymore.

“Hellooo…” she said with cheer that warmed the cold evening. “I had gone to show an old mama how to take her medicine. Come inside, it is cold.”

She unlocked the huge padlock on the metallic door and motioned to me to get inside. She went in first, and her daughter followed. Then I carried the chair I had been offered earlier and went in after them, chair first. I plopped it down, sat and waited.

Would you believe what this little girl did? She asked me to sit on the cushioned bench inside the waiting room instead because, according to her, it was more comfortable! After that, she offered me a cup of water, which I took without protest.

I looked at the girl again. She was barely 12! I looked over the counter to where her mother was and said, “Your daughter has attended to me really well, in your absence! She can totally manage a business.”

The mother’s laugh was throaty and full. The girl giggled -it was a compliment well received.

I got my medication and went back home. On my way there, I thought to myself just how beautiful it would be, to have a daughter of my own, some day- one just as warm and perfect as that little girl.