By WITH the pain worsening and the sore creating distress at home, we resumed medical consultations. The professor advised that the tumour be removed surgically before continuing with the alternative treatment. So, one Sunday in September 2023, we spent nearly one million naira to have the entire affected organ removed. We had no other choice. Perhaps if we had cried out more loudly, better assistance might have reached us.
After a few days in a serene private hospital in Samonda, she was discharged. The UCH doctor who performed the surgery advised that chemotherapy begin two or three weeks later. Meanwhile, a histochemistry test conducted in a laboratory in Mokola described the condition as triple-negative breast cancer — deadly and notoriously difficult to reverse.
My wife remained afraid of chemotherapy. She had seen and heard too much about its harsh effects and did not want it. Because of her fear, I agreed to continue with the alternative therapy. The surgeon himself seemed quite the “guy man” — often mocking believers who sought prayer solutions rather than relying solely on medicine. “I believe in God too o. I’m not an atheist,” he would say loudly, laughing. “But let mummy follow the medical plan.” He was one of those hardworking doctors who took private calls across different hospitals to earn more, despite being employed at UCH.
READ ALSO: https://stonixnews.com/the-fear-of-chemo/
This brings me to a broader issue. One of the major problems crippling Nigeria’s health sector is the lack of commitment and full dedication to duty. After housemanship, doctors eagerly struggle to secure placements in public hospitals. But once they are accepted, many immediately begin searching for private hospital shifts to earn extra income. This clearly indicates they are underpaid by their primary employers — the government.
Across the country, it is hard to find a medical practitioner in a government hospital who does not also work privately. This is despite the already heavy workload in their official posts. They can earn their government salary in a few days, or even a single day, working privately. Do we not see similar patterns in our higher-institution lecturers? Do members of our armed forces not run private security outfits remotely? I once met an army officer on the Lagos–Ibadan Expressway who asked me to help publicise his private security firm when he learnt I was a journalist.
Did you recently read the story of a Nigerian medical doctor in the UK who feigned sickness and was given a sick leave only to be caught months later for answering calls from other hospitals thereby defrauding the system? He’s in jail as we speak. We call it “hustle” in Nigeria that’s why it’s not deemed a crime and well encouraged!
This, unfortunately, is the reality in our country today.
To be continued….
NB: Today marks 365 days Princess Denise Yetunde Adurokiya passed in my alms in our home in Ibadan. The incident occurred a few minutes to 9:00a.m. Can you offer a word of prayer those she left behind?
Ebenezer writes from Warri, Delta State, to mark One-Year immemorial of his wife, Princess Denise Yetunde Adurokiya.
What's your reaction?
