MY ORDEAL IN THE HANDS OF HEALTH WORKERS IN UYO, AKWA-IBOM STATE

Until yesterday, the last time I visited a hospital for medical attention was in 2008 in Kaduna. I had attended the recruitment exercise to be enlisted into the Nigerian Army. I and other graduates seeking to be recruited as cadets of the 37^th Short-Service Course were conveyed to the Nigeria Military 44 Reference Hospital in Kaduna where a thorough medical test was conducted on us to ascertain our suitability or otherwise of becoming combatants. We had undergone different kinds of medical test in the foremost military hospital ranging from dental, blood to visual tests. Since then, I have not had any serious health issues that warrant me to seek for medical attention in a hospital, until yesterday.

Two days ago, my wife felt ill. It was serious. She had severe fever and headache, and also suffered nausea. She had no appetite. Like every other Nigerian would do, I had gone to buy her over-the-counter drugs hoping that they will palliate her pains and suffering. I bought her quinine and analgesic since she was showing symptoms of malaria. That evening, she got better and bounced back to her normal self. I was happy. However, my happiness was truncated the next morning, which was yesterday, when she relapsed. This time around, it was very serious; her body temperature was as hot as a burning furnace, and she was trembling like an earthquake. I thought of rushing her to the hospital. I dressed her up and carried her to the car as she was much debilitated to even stand up. I rushed her to the nearby Medical Centre: the University of Uyo Medical Centre. This was around 6:15am. 

It was difficult reaching the University’s medical centre because the access road from the burnt Vice-Chancellor’s office was dilapidated. The students had razed the Vice-Chancellor’s office and other property on the 12^th of June due to an irreconcilable difference that arose between them and the school authority. The main campus, which is somewhat a glorified High School, was deserted as we drove past the charred remains of the main gate.  Except for the school’s security guards, the policemen stationed at the front of the charred main gate and a couple of people who dawdled about, the university campus looked like a deserted war scene. The campus is suffering from double jeopardy: it was closed down indefinitely following the June 12 students’ unrest and the nationwide ASUU strike. I drove slowly through the Vice-chancellor’s office, through the Onyema Ugochukwu hall, through the University Senate’s chamber, and at last the Medical Centre. I parked, alighted and turned round to assist my wife down from the car. I supported her as we walked towards the hospital’s Reception with the sole aim of seeing a doctor. By then, it was 6:50am or thereabout.

To my greatest dismay, we were asked to wait for the doctor. The doctor on night duty had abandoned his/her duty post to God-knows-where. We waited, waited, waited, and waited for the doctor who did not show up. The Nurse on duty, certain that the doctor on night duty wouldn’t come, had urged us to wait for another doctor who is supposed to come and take over. Again, we waited. By this time, my wife was almost giving up the ghost. I got annoyed and we left the medical centre around 9:15am. We were driving toward the St. Luke’s Hospital, Anua, Uyo. The St. Luke’s Hospital is one of the good hospitals in Uyo, so I use to think. It is owned by the Catholic Church and is located at the outskirt of Uyo along Nwaniba road. We got there in fifteen minutes, and we were obliged to buy the hospital’s card before we could see a doctor. I was directed to where I can pay for the card. I walked pass some patients and nurses who were seated along a corridor, looking for where I can buy the card from. I got there finally, and alas, the person issuing the card was not on seat. I waited, waited and waited for the person. By then, I was beginning to lose patience because my wife was in the verge of kicking the bucket. After waiting endlessly, I had no alternative than to take my ailing wife elsewhere. 

We left St. Luke’s hospital headed to the University of Uyo Teaching Hospital (UUTH). By this time, I was bottled up with anger. If I had seen the Minister of Health at this time, I would have shattered his head like Hon. Chidi Llyod did to his fellow Lawmaker sometimes ago with a mace. As I was driving towards UUTH, eventually, I had my wife making a phone call which turned out to be the solution to our debacle. She was talking to her brother who had studied pharmacy. She had narrated our ordeal and had told him the symptoms she suffered. He prescribed some drugs for her. We aborted our journey and headed to a reliable drugstore at Oron road to buy the drugs he prescribed. After getting the drugs, we drove home; she ate and swallowed the drugs as prescribed. Thank God the drugs are working. She is getting better as at the time I am writing this article.

I decided to write this article to expose the irresponsible attitude of most, if not all, of our health workers; and also to bring to fore, the poor state of healthcare services in Nigeria. Before now, I use to think it was easy to see a doctor in hospitals. I use to think that one can go to the hospital at anytime and get medical attention. I didn’t know I was soliloquizing. 

In Uyo as a whole, there are only two good public hospitals: the St. Luke’s Hospital, which is a secondary healthcare facility, and the UUTH, the only tertiary health facility in the Akwa-Ibom state. I stand to be corrected. Apart from these two, there are no other reliable secondary or tertiary health facilities available. Moreso, the aforementioned hospitals are not up to standard as compared to their counterparts elsewhere. For example, a visit to St. Luke’s hospital will reveal dilapidated and antiquated structures that are as old as Aristotle’s grandfather; same goes for the teaching hospital. Suffice me to say that this is not just an Akwa-Ibom state debacle alone, it is a national conundrum.

The health sector of Nigeria, like every other sector, is riddled with problems and challenges. It is faced with bothersome challenges such as lack of adequate facilities, dearth of trained medical workers, corruption and other teething problems. The health sector has been abandoned by the government, owing to the fact that our leaders do not seek medical attention locally. At the slightest headache, they are flown abroad to receive medical attention at the expense of the taxpayer. What a shame! Even the Minister of Health is flown to receive medical attention abroad, while the health sector he superintends over is caving in. The health sector in Nigeria is amiss and meant only for the helpless masses who cannot afford to seek healthcare abroad.

The government needs to wake up from slumber and bring basic needs of life to its masses. Health, education, water, electricity and so on must be provided to the common people. Nigerians are tired of the whimsical mien of the government. The hoi polloi in Nigeria live under excruciating circumstances; on the other hand, those who are saddled with the responsibilities of catering for them live like kings. This has got to stop! A law should be put in place to compel every public office holder in Nigeria to seek medical services locally when they fall ill. Their children should also be made to attend schools in Nigeria. By so doing, they would sit up and redress some of these issues. We are tired of the lackadaisical pose of government towards the provision of basic facilities to the masses.

If the government should continue to pay lip service to the crumbling health sector as well as other sectors of the Nigerian economy, then they are asking for trouble. Our leaders are pushing us to the wall. We will not hesitate to revolt if we are pushed to do so. To be fore warned is to be fore armed.

THE MOTORPARK REPUBLIC

Embarking on a journey could be very exasperating and mentally enervating. The thought of the encounter with the rowdy atmosphere in Motor Park leaves an intending traveler apprehensive and demoralized. This is because a typical motor park in Nigeria is like a madhouse. Motor Parks are characterized by ear-splitting yells and befuddling movements. The situation can best be described as bedlam: yells from touts who are shouting on top their voices trying to convince passengers to patronize them, bellows from passengers running helter-skelter with their luggage trying to board their preferred vehicle to their destination, and deafening bawls from hawkers and itinerant traders who are utilizing the best of the opportunity to make brisk sales of their goods or services. Also in this survivalist gridlock are pick-pockets who are trying to eke out a living from stealing from their victims. Illicit drug peddlers are also citizens of motor parks, they deal in all sorts of psychoactive drugs which includes marijuana and gin. There are sex workers who provide sex services for the motor park citizens. Union officials are also not left out. They are the political maestros of the Motor park republic. They are members of the popular but dreaded group: National Union of Road Transport Workers (NURTW). Other citizens that make up the Motor park republic are the full-blown schizophrenics who walk aimlessly around the motor parks in tattered, dirty cloths. Pastors and Evangelists are not left behind. They adorn suit jackets and trade prayers for money. 

The touts are the pawns in the motor parks. Many of them are street urchins popularly called area boys. They hustle for commuters, and are paid according to the number of passengers they are able to garner. They use all forms of strategies to convince passengers to join their vehicles. They even go to the extent of using bluff passengers to hoodwink unsuspecting passengers into boarding their vehicles. They would get travelers bags and stuff them with used cloths and get their fellow touts to sit in the vehicle pretending to be passengers. Many intending passengers would normally choose to join vehicles which have more passengers because it indicates that the vehicle would move soon. Once the unsuspecting passenger falls to the bait, the bluffers would disembark one after the other and disappear. The touts are tipped after they had loaded full a vehicle with passengers. They also extort money from commuters who carry luggage. They wouldn’t load a commuter’s luggage until they are tipped. Most touts are drug addicts. Their daily income is spent in beer parlors and brothels after the day’s hassle. Some of them also double as conductors. They would travel with the vehicles to their destinations and aid the driver to fix the vehicle when it breaks down. Many of them, also, are spare drivers. They would take over from the driver when he is fatigued. A tout or bus conductor is the worst of receptionists.  An encounter with one will leave you thinking if you’ve hitherto had unsettled issues with him. Their facial expressions are intimidating. They are not receptive at all. Their voices are baritone and their mouths stink. Often times, acrid smells of sweat ooze out from their dirty cloths. They are mostly school drop outs who could not complete their education due to the inability of their parent to afford tuition fees; others could not cope with the mental task of subjects like mathematics while in school and had to drop out. Many others are truants who after a thousand and one reprimands from the school authority, were expelled to protect school mates from being contaminated by their misbehavior. They are always livid, and burst up at the slightest provocation. They are quick to engage in a fisticuff with anyone who crossed their path. Many of them have no homes; therefore, they make do of the garage as their bedrooms at nights. Others would also pass the night in brothels with sex workers.

Commuters thronged from all directions to the motor park. They intend to travel to their various destinations safely and on time too. They come in carrying different sizes of traveler’s bags. A trend in the motor park is that female passengers most often conveyed larger traveler’s bags than the men travelers. A passenger on arrival would have to contend with the deafening yell from the touts who will use every available method to convince the passenger to board their vehicles. Often times, the passenger would like to board a vehicle which has much passengers seated in it, but they would soon discover that the people they thought were fellow commuters are actually fake. Once a passenger agrees to board a particular vehicle, he or she would be asked to pay the fare and a ticket will be issued him or her. He or she would board and wait for the arrival of other passengers. If the spaces in the vehicle are exhausted, the touts would come with the manifest and urge the passengers to fill. Thereafter, loading of luggage would commence. The touts would only load the luggage after they must have been tipped. If a passenger does not tip the tout, an argument may ensue, and may metamorphose into a brawl. Male passengers would prefer to sit close to a beautiful looking lassie.

Illicit drug peddlers provide the motor park with assorted kinds of drugs. Some of them, who are mostly female, deal in cigarette and herbal concoctions called paraga in local parlance. These herbal concoctions, a mixture of herbs and alcoholic gin, are believed to serve medicinal purpose; while others are aphrodisiacs. The male traffickers, who are less visible and operate in the underworld, deal in Indian hemp and other psychedelics. Their main patrons are the drivers, touts, union officials, sex workers and some commuters. The drivers consume these substances before hit the road; they report that they see the road clearer after consuming Indian hemp and paraga (gin). The conductors on the other hand would shout and tout better after having a breakfast of these psychoactive drugs. 

The sex workers are very important members of the motor park republic. They provide coital services to the of the motor park citizenry. They are usually in different sizes and shapes and complexion. They live in shanties somewhere at the outskirt of the park, where they sell their bodies to anyone that can afford it. They are mostly patronized by union officials, drivers, conductors and some randy commuters. They hawk their goods at motor parks and are usually in the habit of taking dangerous drugs alongside their patrons. They offer different classes of services ranging from short time, where the patrons are allowed one bout of sex; to daybreak services, where the licentious patrons spend the night with the sex workers in their shanties or in hotels.

The union officials are the gaffers of the motor park republic. They control the day-to-day activities of the motor park. They keep inventory of all the vehicles coming in or going out of the motor park. They are the branch officials of the National Union of Road Transport Workers (NURTW) which has become synonymous with mugging, conflict and fracas. Many of them hide in the guise of unionism to spit mayhem and cause the breakdown of law and order. They own different types of dangerous arms and ammunition including guns, machetes, axes and other weapons. They also carry charms which they claim would protect them from getting into trouble or being harmed in a situation of crises. Sometimes, their activities are so nefarious that even the police cannot quell their wanton destruction of lives and property. Most at times, politicians who are contesting in elections would come to hire their services. They would be provided with cash, arms, charms and logistics to cause mayhem and intimidate opponents in the other political parties. The union officials usually converge in a makeshift office in the motor parks, from where they extort money from drivers, and other people therein. They also patronize illicit drug dealers and would drink to stupor before resuming the day’s work. They treat passengers with scorn and are feared in the park because they posses political and spiritual powers. They would not hesitate to beat up any passenger or driver who would not follow their dictates. Sometimes, they are factionalize; there would be tussle for power between the factions and this would cause a serious breakdown of law and order in the motor park republic, characterized by wanton destruction of lives and property. 

The motor park is a republic of rubbish. The environment is filthy and smells of urine, feces and other dirt. Inhabitants of motor parks are used to cohabiting with these filths. They cook on it, eat on it and even sleep on it. A visitor to a typical motor park would be welcomed by the disgusting smell of urine and dirt. This, however, takes a toll on the mentality and general well-being of a typical motor park worker.  The motor park republic is a lawless republic which can be likened to the biblical Sodom and Gomorrah because of the abominable activities which go on in it. 

When next you are journeying, pay attention and identify the different citizens that make up the motor park republic.

AN OPEN LETTER TO HON. PATRICK OBAHIAGBON

I am writing this letter to you from a sick bed. Last week, I stumbled on your reaction to the ASUU strike on your facebook wall.  After reading the first sentence, I felt groggy. I muscled up energy to read the second sentence, and guess what, I went blank. I later woke up to discover that I am in a hospital bed. I had been in comma for three day as a result of an ailment the doctor referred to as “acute igodomigodo syndrome.” On coming out of comma, I discovered that other patients in the ward I am admitted had also fallen ill as a result of thesame ordeal: the acute igodomigodo syndrome. This ailment, I learnt, is caused by your overweening and plethoric use of big words, some of which are English and others you coin from languages like Latin, Greek, German, Igbo, Bini, et al. According to the doctor, this ailment is one of the leading causes of death in Nigeria today. This implies that anytime you, Hon. Patrick Obahiagbon, open your verbose mouth to prattle on national issues, a great number of Nigerians like me either suffer the Acute Igodomigodo malady, or in extreme cases, some of them kick the bucket.

This letter is not to dissuade you from your grandiloquence; far from it. Infact I admire your finesse of the English language, and your grammatical sagacity. I respect and appreciate the consistency with which you lend your voice to address critical national issues. It shows the patriotism that runs in your blood. Personally, everytime a national discourse arise, I yearn to hear your views on them. However, sir, your hyper-flamboyant use of the English language is uncalled for. It is suicidal. Some of the words you use are extremely jaw-breaking. Not only that they are jaw-breaking, but even the dictionaries and thesauruses available today are helpless. Not even the bests of world lexicographers can understand you. As a matter of fact, Noble Laureates in English literature cannot comprehend what you say. What you say makes no meaning to the average Nigerian. Suffice me to say that your grandiose expressions add salt to the wounds of many Nigerians. Instead of being a solution to our dilemma, it turns out to be a conundrum and an enigma that increase our anguish.

I heard with one ear that you are a lawyer. Thank God you don’t practice; I wonder the vicissitudes your clients would have gone through in order to fathom your high-sounding and florid expressions, that is if you would have any clients that would patronize you. No serious client who loves his or her life would think of hiring you because the Judge or Magistrate may misconstrue your lingo and perpetuate injustice. I begin to think of how a Magistrate or Judge would comprehend what you say in court when representing your clients. That aside, when you were an Honorable Member of the House of Representative, nobody understands you when you contribute to debates. Even your fellow colleagues in the hallowed green chamber were bamboozled by your mystified misuse of the English language.  They saw you as a comic character instead of a serious-minded legislator. Your represented a caricature and your contributions to debates caused huge mirth amongst your fellow honourables as well as amongst many well meaning Nigerians. You were considered a comedian rather than a law-maker. This is because you addle us with a language that is a conglomerate of English, Latin and Arabic. No wonder your people of Oredo federal constituency refused to return you for another term in the National Assembly. Perhaps, they felt your rants were not helping matters.

Presently, you are the chief of staff in the Edo state government house. I wonder what Governor Adams Oshiomole would be going through in your hands. I wonder the mental torture you subject him when you write or present submissions for his consideration. I also pity the staff of the Edo state government house and other people you work with; they must be going through a lot of stress and Igodomigodo syndrome on a daily basis. They must be asking the same question that many Nigerians ask: how do you coin your expressions? How do you manufacture some of the words you speak? We need answers, sir.

This is not to belittle your person, but to tell you in clear terms that we do not comprehend your expressions. Please sir, I implore you to make your expressions as simple as possible to enable the hoi polloi decipher what you mean. Your continued use of jaw-breaking words makes matters worse for us. What is the essence of communication if the person you are communicating with does not comprehend what you mean? I hope this will make you turn a new leaf, sir. Send my warmest regards to the comrade Governor, your boss.