Things Fall Apart; the Centre Cannot Hold
by Ofofonono Umoren
For expediency sake, I have become a strong advocate for a more unlikely restructured Nigeria or a more likely seceded state off Nigeria; either of which I believe could be the magic wand that solves the messy puzzle called Nigeria.
Today, I'd take you on a personal journey that reiterates my earliest statement. Last weekend, I alongside my family and friends laid to rest the remains of my Mother who died of breast cancer; and like they say - no amount of statistics can beat personal experience, so I tell with all amount of confidence the woes of Nigeria's health sector.
Sometime in November 2018, my late mother felt a lump in her right breast and almost immediately reported for medical check-up where she was diagnosed with the dreaded breast cancer; unknown to us and like everything wretched, the deadly jaws of Nigeria had just got its hold over the poor woman's life.
Nigeria didn't waste a second from the moment of diagnosis to take its toll, right there in the Government hospital where my mother was diagnosed, she was advised to return home and wait for about 6 months till the singular oncologist in the entire facility returned from a career training abroad or opt for an ordinary mastectomy that would be performed by any regular surgeon. So if I were with Ngige when he ranted about the country having sufficient and even surplus medical personnel in 2019, there would certainly be a rumble. In a country of about 200 million citizens with only about 70 oncologists and just around 45,000 Medical Doctors, Ngige's statement should be regarded as egregiously insensitive and dishonourable.
If you agree with the Igbo proverb that translates into - It is he who owns the corpse that carries it at the head; you might understand why none of these medically proffered options were reasonable to my mother or her family. In the quest for life and in the absence of government's capacity, my mother left Uyo for a private cancer facility in Niger State where she was placed on all sorts of therapy that only sucked her finances dry for the while she spent there.
Early in 2019, my late mother disappointedly returned from Niger state to the hospital where she was first diagnosed and met with this singular oncologist, the Oncologist who is employed by the government advised my mother to enrol in his private hospital in town for better care and treatment, citing the usual excuses of unstable power and low professionalism. He convinced my late mother and she enrolled at his private facility where he administered several doses of chemotherapy before revealing that the cancer had already festered and could not be managed without a mastectomy. He pulled this surgery through but not successfully since he admitted to his cluelessness as to why the incision had not covered up after 4 months.
They say in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is King. Our one eyed King still steered the wheel with loads of post-mastectomy chemotherapy and then advised my mother to do radiotherapy. Well, a lot of things are better understood when experienced. Before now, it was just an op-ed I read many years ago, and I'm quite sure this could mean the same to you; but, just so you are better prepared for a possibly regretful rejoinder, Nigeria has seven radiation oncology centres owned by the government and one private centre. 90% of these centres are not functional and operate without a treatment planning system (i.e. only about 1-2 inconsistent functional centres). These functional centres are very much underequipped, so that one could wait for up to 12 weeks before his/her turn in the radiotherapy machine.
The country annually losses about 500 Billion Naira (1.3 Billion USD) to Ghana, Kenya, India and some first world countries on account of medical export tourism, so I'd like to believe that above all else, the elites don't even trust Nigeria with their health and that to me feels legitimate, cause the available survival statistics don't inspire hope in the country's health system. According to Runcie Chidiebe, a popular cancer control advocate; about 70% of Nigerians living with cancer die in less than 5 years and from my personal experience, watching my mother go from Mrs to Late (Mrs) in just about two years, I couldn't agree more with Runcie's postulation. Further buttressing this postulation is the 2017 statistics from the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation suggesting that the cancer death rate in Nigeria was 113.7 per 100,000 people.
Penultimately, I'd like you to agree to the fact that the health of a nation's citizenry is top responsibility of its government, and is not entirely disconnected from its primary duty of protection /preservation of lives and property; hence any government that fails in this regard should be deservingly recognised as a failed one. As this article attempts to insinuate, Nigeria is falling apart, the centre (which should be the government) cannot hold. With very insufficient budgetary allocation to its health sector, a broken insurance scheme that excludes terminal illnesses like cancers, non functional health facilities and a dearth of medical personnel, Nigeria is sincerely and disappointingly incapacitated to handle the health of its citizens and if we we're all blunt and politically incorrect, we would ask this assembly of resource grabbers cloaked as a government to give way to a more useful entity.
I'd end by sharing a paragraph from my mother's eulogy manuscript. It reads, "Here's a little satire, if you have cancer in Nigeria, you're wretched. No apologies, you're wretched and your only saviour is a miracle from a spiritual God!, but please on your blame list, place Nigerian politicians miles ahead of the witches and wizards who you believe have a hand in your predicament. I so submit."