“Help Me, Don’t Let Me To Die”, Everyone Mocks Pregnant Woman In Labor Until A Homeless Man Did This
He didn’t waste one more second. He slid one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees, and lifted her with effort.
She was heavy, and her belly made it harder, but he carried her like she was his own sister.
The crowd gasped.
“See him!” someone hissed. “He wants to use her for ritual!”
Another man shouted, “Put her down! You will regret it!”
The homeless man spun around, breathing hard, sweat forming on his forehead.
“If you people like, follow me,” he snapped. “But if she dies here, it will be on your conscience forever.”
He walked fast, almost running toward the road.
Elelliana’s head rested on his shoulder. Her hand hung weakly around his neck.
The homeless man looked left and right for a taxi. He lifted his voice.
“Taxi, please stop! Emergency!”
A yellow taxi slowed down a little. Then the driver saw the homeless man’s torn clothes and quickly pressed the accelerator.
Another car passed. Another one. A danfo bus even honked as it drove away like it was a joke.
Jerry’s chest rose and fell quickly. His arms began to ache, but he held Elelliana tighter.
He ran again, shouting, waving. “Please help us!”
A man in an SUV rolled down his window and shouted, “No, carry that wahala comot my motor!” Then he drove off.
Jerry’s throat burned. His legs shook. Yet he kept moving.
He had no money, no phone, no support—just a dying pregnant woman in his arms and a crowd behind him still murmuring and laughing like it was a show.
Jerry’s eyes filled with angry tears. He looked down at Elelliana’s face. Her lips were slightly open. Her breathing was weak, like a candle fighting wind.
“Hold on,” Jerry whispered fiercely. “Hold on, I beg you.”
The nearest hospital was not far, but with someone in his arms, it felt like a whole journey across Lagos.
He ran.
His slippers slapped the ground. His muscles screamed. At one point, his knees almost buckled. He nearly fell, but he adjusted his grip and forced himself forward again.
Sweat dripped down his face into his beard. Cars flew past. The air smelled like exhaust and hot tar.
And all he could think was, If she dies in my arms, I will never forgive myself.
Finally, he saw the sign.
Lagos Medical Center.
Jerry’s heart jumped with hope. He pushed harder, almost stumbling into the emergency entrance.
“Help!” he yelled, voice cracking. “Help! She is in labor. She fainted!”
Two nurses rushed out immediately. One of them—a dark-skinned nurse with a tight bun and sharp eyes—looked at Elelliana’s face and shouted, “Stretcher, now!”
A stretcher rolled out.
Jerry lowered Elelliana carefully, hands shaking.
The nurses lifted her onto it and started pushing her inside. Jerry followed, panting, eyes wide.
“Sir, are you her husband?” another nurse asked quickly.
Jerry froze. His mouth opened. He couldn’t lie.
“No,” he said. “I… I don’t even know her name. She fell outside the supermarket. People refused to help.”
The nurse didn’t pause. “Okay. Come. We need someone to answer questions.”
Jerry followed as they rushed Elelliana through the hallway.
Doctors came out. A young doctor pressed fingers against Elelliana’s wrist. Another checked her belly and frowned.
“She’s losing consciousness,” one doctor said.
“Possible internal bleeding from the fall,” another replied.
“Prep theatre,” the first doctor commanded.
Jerry’s heart dropped.
“The theatre?” That word sounded like danger.
The nurses ran with Elelliana through double doors.
Jerry tried to follow, but a staff member stopped him.
“You can’t enter,” she said firmly. “Wait here.”
Jerry stood in the hallway, breathing hard. His chest rose fast like he had swallowed fear.
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