Through the Eyes of Lucy: Living With Schizophrenia by Abioye Peju



I woke up to a severely throbbing headache, this morning.

I cannot adequately put to words, that which clouds my vision, but it feel really hazy.

‘Lucy’; Collins calls out to me

‘Are you awake? I missed you so much.’

I whisper; ‘My head aches, passionately.’

Reina opens the door, and walks into my room.

‘Baby girl, how are you?’

She gives me her typical, concerned look.

Reina is my best friend – in this part of the world I call ‘Hearth’. Collins was by far the best in the other part of my world, the one within me, the one Reina couldn’t see. The world which was yet, unnamed.

I would have been called an ogbanje, if I had been born in my village.

I, am no ogbanje.

Reina’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

‘Lucy? You don’t look like you slept well.’

To which I reply ‘Reina…my head aches.’

‘Oh…sorry, my pumpkin. Let me get you some tablets.’

‘Thanks, Reina.’

I see myself to the bathroom.

Today was a Saturday, and I had a checklist.

It included making time out for Collins.

Quality time.

I loved Collins.

I loved him so hard, it hurt sometimes to think about him.

I could be walking, and thoughts of him would stop me in my tracks.

He was my life, I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

Work on ‘hearth’ could engulf me and it would seem like I had forgotten him, but how could I, really?

I am already in the bathroom and the tap isn’t running, but I have some water left in my big bowl. We call it ‘baff.’

The heat was unbearable, but I vow to enjoy the feel of every drop of this water on my skin.

As I get closer to the bottom of the baff, I begin to pour the water slowly.

Really, really slowly.

Slow enough to feel the trickles acutely as the force of gravity propelling it is reduced- to the degree to which the water is disappearing.

All this, is to establish that I am normal – I feel the changes in the weather, cold and heat affected me as much as it did, others.

Yet, I am painfully aware of my peculiarities.

That I cannot successfully introduce my friends on hearth to my friends in my other unnamed world, which houses the man I love.

Our near-telepathic love.

My other world is real but my mother says, that I carved it on the framework of my imagination.

She is a very intelligent woman with a Ph.D degree but on this, I disagree with her. She is wrong.

My friends on hearth choose to ignore the fact that sometimes, I talk to ‘beings that are not present’- in their own words.

Sometimes, I push my other world deep into my subconscious mind, just so I can have some sane tidbits on hearth.

However, one thing, is sure.

I am different.

For this, I would suffer.



Abioye Peju is a final year medical student of Bowen University, with a palpable passion for writing. She is an ardent believer that behind every medical case, is a story itching to be told. She writes at




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