AfroDescent
5.4K posts

AfroDescent
@ItsDoktari
recovering idealist
gated community Katılım Mayıs 2017
879 Takip Edilen1K Takipçiler
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This was written from the bottom of my heart. A long read. We are all guilty.
RIP to all the doctors who have died.
Everyone screams negligence.
Everyone screams incompetence.
“Nigerian doctors this.”
“Nigerian doctors that.”
An error happens and the outrage is instant.
Retweets. Threads. Hashtags. Public trials.
But when doctors cry out for help, the room goes quiet.
Very quiet.
I have spoken, over and over again, about the inhumane nature of being a doctor in Nigeria. Not in theory. Not from textbooks. From lived experience.
Working 120 hours a week.
Working 36 to 40 hours at a stretch. No sleep. No real rest. No reset. And yet, you are expected to think clearly, act flawlessly, save lives, and somehow avoid “medical negligence.”
You work until you almost die.
Sometimes, you work until you do die.
Late Dr Femi was not an exception. He was a warning. One we conveniently ignored.
What exactly do you expect from a system like this?
There are days I have seen close to 70 patients. Alone. One doctor. Seventy human beings. Seventy stories. Seventy risks. In the Emergency and Primary Unit, during peak call hours, when everything is loud and urgent and collapsing at once.
I have done it before.
And I am not special.
Yet you feel this is normal?
You feel this is acceptable?
You still expect error-free healthcare from a system built on exhaustion?
There are times I work until I cannot think again. Not “tired.” Not “sleepy.” I mean cognitively empty. Too exhausted to process thoughts properly. Too drained to trust my own mental speed.
And if an error happens in that state, we are prosecuted.
Dragged. Shamed. Criminalised.
But if you speak up, you are called lazy.
If you complain, you are told others have it worse.
If you demand humane conditions, you are told to resign.
Doctors are paid ₦600 to ₦750 per hour when broken down monthly. That is the value placed on decision-making that can save or end a life.
And you expect them to always be on their A-game?
There is a reason doctors are paid well in functioning systems. Not luxury. Not greed. Stability. So that survival is not competing with clinical judgment. So that the doctor can worry about the patient, not rent, not transport, not feeding, not exhaustion.
I have checked my blood pressure multiple times during working hours. It has been elevated. With symptoms.
147/100 mmHg.
In a doctor in his mid-20s.
Let that sit for a moment.
If I collapse tomorrow, the system will keep moving. Another name will fill the rota. Another body will absorb the workload. No pause. No reflection.
JOHESU has been on strike for almost two months. Silence.
NARD is about to go on strike. Again, silence.
Thousands of people will die. Quietly. They will become numbers. Poorly kept numbers at that.
Statistics that do not trend.
Deaths that do not outrage.
The truth about this system will shock you if you ever truly see it.
Nigeria is eating her doctors.
Eating their health.
Eating their youth.
Eating their passion.
Eating their dreams.
Slowly. Methodically. Without guilt.
Yet no one seems to care.
Until the day you have money, but no time.
Until the day the emergency is so sudden, so severe, that you cannot fly out.
Until the day you must depend on the very “failed system”.
And then you realise. Too late.
Selah.
RIP to all the doctors who have died due to the state of healthcare in Nigeria.

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A railway system across Africa could:
-Make living in Nairobi while working in Kampala possible.
-Let students from Kisumu study in Dodoma without relocating permanently.
-Enable doctors in Lusaka to work daily with Nairobi hospitals via fast rail links.
Enable doctors from South Africa to conveniently support patients in Kampala.
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