The Night Shift: Initiation

                          INITIATION

At Wharf Maternity, it was common knowledge that permanent day workers earned less than the shift workers. Naturally, every new hire opted for extra hours to maximize their earnings. David had just started as an auxiliary nurse, eager for the higher pay that came with night shifts. In his early thirties, he figured working two night shifts per week wouldn’t disrupt his lifestyle too much. The extra pay was worth it, and he had plenty of time to rest on his off-duty days. He particularly hoped to join the night shift in the administration department, having heard about the generous hourly rate.

Tne day, while on duty, David noticed a newly placed file on the rack. Unlike the others labeled with patients’ names, this one was marked “Customer.” That struck him as odd—every file had a section clearly labeled “Patient.” His curiosity got the better of him. He had always been inquisitive, an avid researcher. Recently, he had overheard his boss, Dr. Kojoro, on the phone with a midwife discussing a patient under his care. The way they spoke hinted at something unusual.

Later that day, a woman named Mrs. Oluwagbogo Janet was in labor. Her husband kept running in and out of the clinic, fetching medical supplies for the procedure. She had delivered triplets through a C-section, and the attending nurses, along with Dr. Kojoro, praised her resilience. The newborns were wrapped in swaddles, awaiting their father’s return. When he came back, however, something felt off—there was confusion about the number of surviving babies.

David, stationed nearby, observed his boss through the transparent glass wall of his office. Dr. Kojoro raised two fingers and gave a plastic smile. His expression, coupled with the glint of his medicated glasses, sent a chill down David’s spine. Something was wrong. He shuddered at the implications but forced himself to focus on his work.

Had they lost the third baby?

As Mrs. Oluwagbogo asked for her children, Dr. Kojoro rang the call bell. David instinctively stepped forward to assist, but the doctor waved him off and summoned another auxiliary nurse instead. That was unusual. David felt uneasy, sensing something bigger unfolding.

Moments later, a piercing scream shattered the clinic’s silence. The mother, overwhelmed with grief, refused to believe that one of her babies had died. Her husband tried to console her, but she kept insisting—all three had been alive. Yet the clinic reported only two survivors. The sudden disappearance of the third baby baffled David. How had the cry of three reduced to two? And why?

By morning, the story had shifted again. The father called his relatives, who arrived to comfort the grieving mother. Dr. Kojoro explained the medical complications that supposedly led to the loss of the third child. The family, though heartbroken, reluctantly accepted his words and took the two surviving babies home.

David, however, couldn’t let it go.

Where had the third baby gone? Had the child truly died, or was something more sinister at play? The timeline didn’t add up. He suspected foul play but lacked proof. He worried about being unknowingly dragged into something illegal.

Then, another disturbing detail surfaced.

Dr. Kojoro had an unusual habit—he often ate what looked like raw meat while on duty. He kept it locked away in a private, constantly powered freezer that only he could access. No one else in the clinic was allowed near it. David decided to bide his time, determined to uncover the truth.

One hour before his shift ended, he flipped through the mysterious “Customer” file. What he found was shocking. The speculative midwife—whom he had overheard earlier—was running cryptic pregnancies, essentially buying babies from Dr. Kojoro. She would call ahead to check for availability, placing orders like they were commodities.

Now, David knew too much.

No one else in the clinic suspected that he was onto something. He considered exposing what he had found, but money was a powerful motivator. If he played his cards right, he could sell this information for a hefty sum. However, he also realized that he was in danger.

Soon after, David was reassigned to the reception and purchasing section. There, he gained even more insight into the illicit business his boss was running. Child trafficking was happening right under everyone’s noses, masked by the legitimacy of the clinic.

Eight weeks into his job, David received an unexpected message from Dr. Kojoro, summoning him for another interview. Panic set in. Was this routine, or was he being tested? Did his colleagues go through this same process before securing their jobs?

At the meeting, Dr. Kojoro made his intentions clear—he needed to protect his business. And the best way to do that was to ensure that his employees were compromised.

He studied David carefully. He knew about his struggling background, his sick mother, and his desperate need for money. That made him the perfect candidate. Someone who could be bribed, someone who would keep quiet.

“You want to earn more, don’t you?” Dr. Kojoro asked. “Stay focused on your duties. Ignore distractions. If I ever catch you meddling in things that don’t concern you, I will personally hand you over to the police.”

The threat was clear.

But then came the real test.

Dr. Kojoro offered David a shawarma and a dark currant drink. The meat was unusually soft, the drink oddly thick. Without thinking much, David consumed them both. It was only afterward that realization struck him—he had just participated in something he couldn’t take back.

Satisfied, Dr. Kojoro smiled.

“You’re one of us now.”

David’s weekly bonus was increased by twenty thousand naira, but the cost was his silence. His new role? A spy for the clinic.

Whether he liked it or not, he was now entangled in Dr. Kojoro’s operation.

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