By Patrick Dele Cole
AT 15, I broke my left arm playing football. It was a horrendous accident, as the left elbow joint was broken and another bone was also broken. It was called a compound fracture, which my mother believed had been the deliberate work of a classmate whose name was Ojukwu (Who can forget such a name?). My mother came to Port Harcourt from Onitsha and was ready to tear Ojukwu to pieces. He disappeared temporarily while my problem had to be solved. Before she could arrive, I had been taken to a local Osteopath who must have worsened the injury because he attempted to set the bones without seeing any X-ray.
When eventually an X-ray was taken, I was told that the only place I could get treatment was at the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital, Igbobi. My mother took me to Igbobi where the prognosis was not particularly good. There were two specialist orthopaedic surgeons who…
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