Odunayo Ejire shares his story, urging Nigeria to embrace a better system rather than pretending the current one works.
I just want to share my story so you can understand why I’m shouting for at least a system that is making effort to be better for Nigeria. They say “to live in Nigeria is better.”
But I want to share my own story. Because it is only a wicked person that will be enjoying a working system and not wish the same for his people.
I won’t be enjoying a functioning system abroad and then lie to you that the one you are living in Nigeria is better.
When I landed in the UK, I did what every new immigrant is advised to do I registered for the NHS.
Back home in Nigeria, I had compiled my medical history in a large file, because there was no reliable system of sending it electronically. I physically carried my health records across borders.
The moment I handed the file over, the information was input into the NHS system. Just like that organized, traceable, and accessible. It struck me: here, my health information had a home.
Immediately after registering, I was booked for a hepatitis test. At that time, I didn’t go.
Fast forward to 2024 the system reminded me. This time, the tests went beyond hepatitis. My liver and kidneys were examined, and I had multiple scans.
These were not ordinary scans. They were thorough, accurate, and immediate procedures (MRi and CT) that would’ve cost me a fortune in Nigeria and might not even be conclusive. Here, it was routine, efficient, and delivered with urgency.
The results came back: a 2cm spot was discovered in my liver.
The doctors suspected it might be a tumor.
Without wasting time, they arranged me for specialized cancer care. Imagine that no delay, no begging, no “come back next month.” Immediate action.
They even prepared me for the possibility that treatment could affect my fertility. I was instructed to store my sperm in the sperm bank.
This was a heavy moment. Depression set in. I was scared. But even in my fear, I found comfort in one thing: I was in capable hands, in a system that valued my life.
From there, I was scheduled for regular checkups. Every 3 months, I went back for scans to monitor the size of this “tumor.”
Six scans later, the growth hadn’t increased. The doctors decided on a biopsy.
And here’s the difference between a system that works and one that doesn’t: they refused to begin treatment until they were sure.
They would not waste resources treating what wasn’t there, nor risk my body unnecessarily. Precision, not guesswork.
The biopsy was a delicate procedure. A robotic system was used to extract part of the 2cm mass for testing.
It was slightly painful, and I had to lie still for 6 hours afterward to prevent internal bleeding.
The results came back: it wasn’t cancer. It was just a blood clot. One in ten people develop clots in the liver it’s harmless.
Imagine the relief. But imagine also the gratitude.
Because of the system I was in, I was spared months of unnecessary cancer treatment and given peace of mind that many Nigerians may never know in their lifetime.
Now let me make this clear: yes, I pay NHS fees as an immigrant. But the quality of care I received is the same quality any UK citizen would receive for free.
This is the power of a working public health system.
In Nigeria, only a handful of private hospitals can dream of matching this level of care and those are out of reach for the average citizen.
So I am not telling anyone to “run away” from Nigeria. That’s not the point of this story.
The point is: we deserve better. Every Nigerian deserves the dignity of reliable healthcare.
Some people ask, “Why is your voice loud? Why do you keep shouting online?”
Because I’ve experienced both worlds. I’ve lived through dysfunction, and I’ve tasted what it means to be in a system that works.
As my friend said today: Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it was built every day.
Progress is slow, but it’s constant. Countries that rebuild themselves Japan (look at Hiroshima & Nagasaki before-and-after), Dubai, Egypt, Botswana, Kenya, South Africa don’t wait for perfection. They keep building, step by step.
We are not shouting for the sake of shouting.
We are shouting because we want a Nigeria where every life matters.
A Nigeria where being young or old, rich or poor, doesn’t decide whether you live or die.
A Nigeria where you can do even the lowest-paying job and still live with dignity.
This is not too much to ask for.
This is the Nigeria we deserve.
Source: Read more at premiumtimesng.com
