There is a Pot Hole on my Street

THE EDGE

There is a pot hole on my street, its been there for a while and every morning as I drive to work I ask my colleague ” who is responsible for fixing this pothole?” He asks me to speak to the Governor.

For this particular governor, governance is a business transaction, you vote for him, he does something for you in return

I don’t think that’s a good answer though because I’ve actually spoken to the Governor. Yes I did, so no need to roll your eyes at me, he was having a town hall session around the area to tell us how wonderful his government has done and how he needs to increase taxes by another 2%. So I asked him, when he’s going to fix the pot hole on my street. He told me he had no idea there was any pot hole on my street, he also told…

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Embracing truth in a changing society. How to respond to systemic injustice

In a speech by Ruth Bader-Ginsburg in 1993 (Speaking in a Judicial voice), she highlighted that “Courts enabled the laws catch up with a changed society” by forcing legislature to re-examine gender based laws. This is an interesting point noted by justice Ginsburg and premise on which I will try to draw some lessons. The first crucial point for me in the above statement is the awareness of Justice Ginsburg that there are pervasive injustices and marginalization against varying groups of people – minorities, people of color, gender, religion or other indices in our society embedded in social norms and because legislation is made by members of society who are themselves flawed, these injustices are enacted into laws which then give force to these injustices to be further entrenched.

San Francisco 49ers safety Eric Reid (35) and quarterback Colin Kaepernick (7) kneel during the national anthem before an NFL football game against the Los Angeles Rams in Santa Clara, Calif. Source: AP

“Courts enabled the laws catch up with a changed society” by forcing legislature to re-examine gender based laws.

The second crucial point is that in time and through multiple agitations the society changes. How do I know that society eventually changes? I watched a video clip of Oprah’s visit in 1987 to interview a county where no black person has lived for 75 years and the residents confidently gave reasons why this was okay and should be kept that way using extremely racists and demeaning words against African-Americans. They made statements which to any right thinking human being would be considered totally unacceptable and I would say if the clip was played back to them today, they would be totally ashamed of themselves. Another evidence of how our society has changed is the story of Ruby Nell Bridges Hall. On 14 November 1960 she became the first African-American child to attend an all white school in Louisiana in an attempt to enforce the landmark judgement Brown v Board of Education in 1954 which declared the segregation of school children based on race as unconstitutional. She is just 65 years old.

However, while the society changes rapidly, there is a significant lag between when the society has changed and the ability of the “system” to adapt and accommodate these changes. The task before everyone who would be part of building a progressive society therefore is to push the system towards these progressive ideals we now value.

This then brings me to the issue of systemic racism and the current agitations in the United States. What is clear and obvious to many black people in America and in many other countries across the world is the systemic racism which they have had to endure for decades on end and against which they have continually pushed. Many societies have however ignored these agitations, rationalizing it, explaining it away and refusing to deal with it. In fact, overt police aggression against black men often resulting in extrajudicial killings is nothing new, the statistics of incarceration of black men bears witness to this. And many people across the divide who today are at the forefront of the protests, wouldn’t have cared one bit a few years ago. In fact, the court refused to convict the killer of Trayvon Martin, with the press running over themselves to criminalize the 17 year old teenager. So what changed? I guess in the eternal words of the song from Sam Cook, The change has simply come, the society has changed and the system which we have all carried with pride has now been exposed as racist and unjust.

We must chose to stand together and not apart One World, One Race

With these understanding of a fast changing society, often times as individuals we become lost in the noise and wonder how we can play a positive part in this future and avoid being on the wrong side of progress. I make a few suggestions. The first bit is to fight ignorance, especially your own ignorance of how systemic racism works and it’s impact on black people. Also don’t be afraid to own up to past failures, while today you may be a campaigner for equal rights and justice it doesn’t erase the periods of your past where you may have contributed to the systemic racism or taken advantage of the privilege of your race. Thirdly use your privilege and position to call out racism wherever you see it. Finally, we must realize that the lag will be there in the system, our laws, rules, regulations, norms have been designed to keep people out, we will all need to put in the effort to dismantle these laws and move the system towards the direction our society has shifted to.

The destiny of everyone on this globe is collective, and no amount of segregation or apartness can shield you from the effect of detrimental practices across the globe. We must chose to stand together and not apart One World, One Race.

GREATER TOGETHER THAN APART

Full text of the speech delivered by Prof Yemi Osinbajo (Ag President, Federal Republic of Nigeria) at the colloquium on “Biafra: 50 years after’’ organized by the Yar’adua Foundation at the Shehu Musa Yar’adua Centre, Abuja on 25th May, 2017.

The conveners of this event, the Yar’ Adua Memorial Centre, the Ford foundation and the Open Society initiative West Africa, have done us an enormous favour by offering us the platform for this profoundly important conversation. They deserve our deep gratitude for this opportunity for individual and collective introspection.

Prof Yemi Osinbajo

Introspection is probably what separates us from beasts. That ability to learn from history is perhaps the greatest defense from the avoidable pain of learning from experience, when history is a much gentler and kinder teacher. Indeed, the saying experience is the best teacher, is incomplete, the full statement of that Welsh adage is that experience is the best teacher for a fool. History is a kinder and gentler teacher.
I was ten years old when my friend in primary school then, Emeka, left school one afternoon. He said his parents said they had to go back to East, war was about to start. I never saw Emeka again. My aunty Bunmi was married to a gentleman from Enugu, I cannot recall his name. But I recall the evening when my parents tried to persuade her and her husband not to leave for the East. She did, we never saw her again.
I recall distinctly how in 1967, passing in front of my home on Ikorodu road almost every hour were trucks carrying passengers and furniture in an endless stream heading east. Many Ibos who left various parts of Nigeria, left friends, families and businesses, schools and jobs. Like my friend and aunty some never returned! But many died. The reasons for this tragic separation of brothers and sisters were deep and profound. So much has been said and written already about the “why’s and wherefores’’ and that analyses will probably never end.

“what if we had spent all the resources, time and sacrifice we put into the war, into trying to forge unity? What if we had decided not to seek to avenge a wrong done to us? What if we had chosen to overcome evil with good?’’

This is why I would rather not spend this few minutes on whether there was or was not sufficient justification for secession and the war that followed. The issue is whether the terrible suffering, massive loss of lives, of hopes and fortunes of so many can ever be justified.
As we reflect on this event today, we must ask ourselves the same question that many who have fought or been victims in civil wars, wars between brothers and sisters ask in moments of reflection…. “what if we had spent all the resources, time and sacrifice we put into the war, into trying to forge unity? What if we had decided not to seek to avenge a wrong done to us? What if we had chosen to overcome evil with good?’’
The truth is that the spilling of blood in dispute is hardly ever worth the losses. Of the fallouts of bitter wars is the anger that can so easily be rekindled by those who for good or ill want to resuscitate the fire. Today some are suggesting that we must go back to the ethnic nationalities from which Nigeria was formed. They say that secession is the answer to the charges of marginalization. They argue that separation from the Nigerian State will ultimately result in successful smaller States. They argue eloquently, I might add that Nigeria is a colonial contraption that cannot endure.
This is also the sum and substance of the agitation for Biafra. The campaign is often bitter and vitriolic, and has sometimes degenerated to fatal violence. Brothers and sisters permit me to differ and to suggest that we’re greater together than apart.

Indeed, not many Nigerians seem to know that the oft-quoted line about Nigeria being a “mere geographical expression” originally applied to Italy. It was the German statesman Klemens von Metternich who dismissively summed up Italy as a mere geographical expression exactly a century before Nigeria came into being as a country.

No country is perfect; around the world we have seen and continue to see expressions of intra-national discontent. Indeed, not many Nigerians seem to know that the oft-quoted line about Nigeria being a “mere geographical expression” originally applied to Italy. It was the German statesman Klemens von Metternich who dismissively summed up Italy as a mere geographical expression exactly a century before Nigeria came into being as a country. From Spain to Belgium to the United Kingdom and even the United States of America, you will find many today who will venture to make similar arguments about their countries. But they have remained together.
The truth is that many, if not most nations of the world are made up of different peoples and cultures and beliefs and religions, who find themselves thrown together by circumstance. Nations are indeed made up of many nations. The most successful of the nations of the world are those who do not fall into the lure of secession. But who through thick and thin forge unity in diversity.
Nigeria is no different; we are, not three, but more like three hundred or so ethnic groups within the same geographical space, presented with a great opportunity to combine all our strengths into a nation that is truly, to borrow an expression, more than the sum of its parts.

there is a solid body of research that shows that groups that score high on diversity turn out to be more innovative than less diverse ones. There’s also research showing that companies that place a premium on creating diverse workplaces do better financially than those who do not. This applies to countries just as much as it does to companies.

Let me say that there is a solid body of research that shows that groups that score high on diversity turn out to be more innovative than less diverse ones. There’s also research showing that companies that place a premium on creating diverse workplaces do better financially than those who do not. This applies to countries just as much as it does to companies. The United States is a great example, bringing together an impressively diverse cast of people together to consistently accomplish world-conquering economic, military and scientific feats.
It is possible in Nigeria as well. Instead of trying to flee into the lazy comfort of homogeneity every time we’re faced with the frustrations of living together as countrymen and women, the more beneficial way for us individually and collectively is actually to apply the effort and the patience to understand one another and to progressively aspire to create one nation bound in freedom, in peace and in unity.
That, in a sense, should be the Nigerian Dream – the enthusiasm to create a country that provides reasons for its citizens to believe in it, a country that does not discriminate, or marginalize in any way. We are not there yet, but I believe we have a strong chance to advance in that direction. But that will not happen if we allow our frustrations and grievances to transmute into hatred. It will not happen if we see the media – television and radio and print and especially social media – as platforms for the propagation of hateful and divisive rhetoric. No one stands to benefit from a stance like that; we will all emerge as losers.
Clearly our strength is in our diversity, that we are greater together than apart. Imagine for a moment that an enterprising young man from Aba had to apply for a visa to travel to Kano to pursue his entrepreneurial dreams, or that a young woman from Abeokuta had to fill immigration forms and await a verdict in order to attend her best friend’s wedding in Umuahia. Nigeria would be a much less colourful, much less interesting space, were that the case. Our frustrations with some who speak a different dialect or belong to a different religion must not drive us to forget many of the same tribe and faith of our adversaries who have shown true affection for us.
My God-son is Somkele Awakalu, his father Awa Kalu, SAN, and I taught at the University of Lagos. My first book was dedicated to Somkele and my two other God-children. Chief Emmanuel Dimike is almost 80, he was my father’s friend and business associate in his sawmills in Lagos. Chief has been like a father. I see him most Sundays, he worships with me at the chapel.
The individual affections and friendships we forge some even deeper than family ties, must remind us that unity is possible, that brotherhood across tribes and faiths is possible.
Let me make it clear that I fully believe that Nigerians should exercise to the fullest extent the right to discuss or debate the terms of our existence. Debate and disagreement are fundamental aspects of democracy. We recognize and acknowledge that necessity. And today’s event is along those lines – an opportunity not merely to commemorate the past, but also to dissect and debate it. Let’s ask ourselves tough questions about the path that has led us here, and how we might transform yesterday’s actions into tomorrow’s wisdom.

the late Dim Chukwuemeka Ojukwu, explaining why he didn’t think a second Biafran War should happen, said: “We should have learnt from that first one, otherwise the deaths would have been to no avail; it would all have been in vain.”

Indeed, our argument is not and will never be that we should ‘f

Prof Chinua Achebe

orget the past’, or ‘let bygones be bygones’, as some have suggested. Chinua Achebe repeatedly reminded us of the Igbo saying that a man who cannot tell where the rain began to beat him cannot know where he dried his body. If we lose the past, we will inevitably lose the opportunity to make the best of the present and the future.
In an interview years ago, the late Dim Chukwuemeka Ojukwu, explaining why he didn’t think a second Biafran War should happen, said: “We should have learnt from that first one, otherwise the deaths would have been to no avail; it would all have been in vain.”
We should

Dim Chukwuemeka Ojukwu

also be careful that we do not focus exclusively on the narratives of division, at the expense of the uplifting and inspiring ones. The same social media that has come under much censure for its propensity to propagate division, has also allowed multitudes of young Nigerians to see more of the sights and sounds of their country than ever before.
And for every young Nigerian who sees the Internet as an avenue for spewing ethnic hatred, there is another young Nigerian who is falling in love or doing business across ethnic and cultural lines; a young Nigerian who looks back on his or her NYSC year in unfamiliar territory as one of the valued highlights of their lifetime. These stories need to be told as well. They are the stories that remind us that the journey to nationhood is not an event but a process, filled as with life itself with experiences some bitter, some sweet. The most remarkable attribute of that process is that a succeeding generation does not need to bear the prejudices and failures of the past.
Every new generation can take a different and more ennobling route than its predecessors. But the greatest responsibility today lies on the leadership of our country. Especially but not only political leadership.

 

We must not permit our leaders the easy but dangerous rhetoric of blaming our social and economic conditions on our coming together. It is their duty to give us a vision a pathway to make our unity in diversity even more perfect

The promise of our constitution which we have sworn to uphold is that we would ensure a secure, and safe environment for our people to live, and work in peace, that we would provide just and fair institutions of justice. That we would not permit or encourage discrimination on the grounds of race, gender, beliefs or other parochial considerations. That we would build a nation where no one is oppressed and none is left behind.
These are the standards to which we must hold our leadership. We must not permit our leaders the easy but dangerous rhetoric of blaming our social and economic conditions on our coming together. It is their duty to give us a vision a pathway to make our unity in diversity even more perfect

THE LEGACY OF OUR GENERATION

THE LEGACY OF OUR GENERATION

By Prof Yemi Osinbajo (SAN)

Western sociologists have generally speaking grouped persons born within twenty year brackets as belonging to the same generation. So we have the so called lost generation those born between 1883 and 1900.

Greatest generation (1901-1924) who fought in the 1st world war.

Baby boom generation – born between 1946-1964 (who fought in the 2nd world war).

Generation X – (also known as 13th generation or baby busters born during all or part of the 1960s) to which (Ituah Ighodalo and other youngsters in our midst belong).

Generation Y – the millennial generation (birth dates mid 70s

Generation Z – or internet generation, generation text or digital natives born early 1990s.

These groupings are not particularly useful for our analysis because by and large history and events occur across generations.
Consequently ‘responsibility’ for the occurrences and events in history cut across generations. For me therefore, it is easier to identify at any point in time an ‘elite’ in society. A group cutting across generations defined by its privileged access to good education, capital or political power.

In other words, an elite is a class which has special advantages, rights or benefits on account of birth, social position, effort or concession.

It is my thesis, that the privileged, or the elite both individually and collectively have a responsibility an obligation to society to plan it, organize it, order or reorder it and above all to make sacrifices for it, for the maximum benefit of all.

In the context of a nation such as ours where the vast majority are poor and illiterate the educated, the accomplished, the wealthy and those in position of authority, leadership, in government, religion academia, the legislative or judiciary belong to this privileged class.

They need not physically congregate or even recognize their status as such, indeed many may even reject that ‘status’ and consider themselves ‘victims’ of society as much as the vast poor, but it is evident that by the good fortune of birth, social position, concession or even personal effort they are better off than the vast majority of their peers.

In many ways in their individual or collective capacities they determine not only formal rules but also informal rules or vogues. What they respect is what is respected, what they say it is, is what it is.

In sum, they shape in many profound ways the state of their communities and ultimately their destinies.

In this room today is seated a cross section of that elite. The educated, the leaders of commerce, academia, religion, and government, age is not an important factor here. That might be misleading, it might get us into a fruitless inquiry into whether it is an older generation that is responsible for the current mess, when in fact the generations converge and interface at many levels, Dr. Kolade is chairman of a board of which I am a director, yet we are 20 years at least apart in age. I am on a board with Kola Oyeneyin who is at least 15 years younger than me. Pastor Wale sits on a board with Yemi Adamolekun who is at least 20 years younger. Yet each and everyone of us mentioned belong to a privileged class – the elite in the society.

It is my submission Mr. Chairman, that attaching to the privileged status of the elite in society is a responsibility. Responsibility on the other hand simply refers to that social or moral force which binds a person or group to their obligations and the courses of action or conduct demanded by that force.

It is my thesis, that the privileged, or the elite both individually and collectively have a responsibility an obligation to society to plan it, organize it, order or reorder it and above all to make sacrifices for it, for the maximum benefit of all. This is the burden of privilege. It is their obligation individually and collectively to chart the course for the millions, they define and house the ethos and the public sense of the people. It is their expected role to find common cause across profession, vocations, ethnicities and faiths defining the minimum terms and conditions for the safety, security, growth and prosperity of the community. They define clearly what is lofty, what is noble, what is deserving of honour and how these values can be sustained, preserved and enforced. This is the burden of privilege. “Noblese oblige” nobility obligates or perhaps more correctly for our purpose, privilege obligates.

Put better there is such a thing as the “Responsibility of Privilege”. This is the obligation or burden which privilege places on an individual, group or indeed a generation.

It is the faithful discharge of the responsibility of privilege that results in legacy –while the consequence of delinquency in its discharge is “waste” and regression of society.

How has the Nigerian Elite discharged the responsibility of its privilege? And what legacies will be left?

There are many who take the view that many of Nigeria’s intellectual, professional or religious elite are individual successes- but the collective is a failure. Unfortunately it is the failure or success of the group as a group that ultimately determines the successes of the community or nation. It is the ability to come together to reason clearly, with a view to finding enduring answers to difficult community questions that characterise a responsible elite. Invariably, the elite may proffer self serving ideas, but ultimately they would be wise enough to recognise that it is only where the policy seeks the ultimate good of the majority that it will stand.

The framers of the American constitution and other great statements and charters of liberty were such an elite. Not all were noble men , not all were of great learning, some broke laws, some cheated on their wives, some were outright outlaws, but all agreed on minimum conditions for efficient and just government and how these could be preserved. These documents which have endured centuries are some of the most eloquent testimonies to man’s ability for high thought and behaviour.
Over the years despite travails of every kind the core of the American elite defended their constitution and insisted on its central values.

But even earlier it was the Barons, the English elite at the time, sword in hand who forced King John, the then English monarch, to sign the Magna Carta Libertatum, The Great Charter Of Freedoms from which almost every other charter of freedom in the history of man has borrowed. From which also in later years the concepts of enforcement of rights such as the Petition of Rights, and the Writ of Habeas Corpus were birthed. Britain’s representative institutions and its modern judicial processes derive from that charter. This was the work of land owning barons in 1215AD. Hear some of the great thoughts written by these men so many centuries ago:
39. No freeman shall be taken, or imprisoned, or disseized, or outlawed, or exiled, or in any way harmed–nor will we go upon or send upon him–save by the lawful judgment of his peers or by the law of the land.
40. To none will we sell, to none deny or delay, right or justice.

Now these elites whose great works we have described so glowingly were men and not spirits. They still frequently fell short of the high standards they set, they fought brutal wars, and killed millions, they perpetrated slave trade, genocide and institutionalised racism but the gravity of the core values to which they subscribed, inexorably returned them or those after them to repair and restore, to make right what had gone wrong. And so slave trade, official racial discrimination, genocides and much later Apartheid were, challenged and defeated by the very same principles established by those elite groups so long ago. Again even the whole concept of orderly society, under law was the product of elite consensus in many societies.

The recognition of the primacy of order itself led to founding of governments and the donation of powers to them. By order, we mean security, law enforcement, and even such matters as landscaping, communal provision of water, power, control of traffic, mass transportation, and services that raise men and women from a brutish lifestyle.

The rule of law was a logical piece in setting the ‘order’ puzzle. Judges, juries, arbitrators who could be trusted with the responsibility of arbitrating disputes, imposing penalties and declaring laws without fear or favour were appointed. The rule of Law also ensured that the power of state through its agencies was governed by law as espoused or declared by judges. And laws were not arbitrary or ad hominem. Yes, there were corrupt judges even then, and perverse application of laws, but the elite kept the focus on the core values of society. The scholars, publicists, men of faith and politicians forcefully reminded, prodded and harassed all to towards the ‘core values’, so that corruption , arbitrariness, and impunity were not the norm. Why? The reasons were both self-serving and high- minded. The failure of order was dangerous for all, especially the elite themselves, all could be lost! Even all they had acquired.

Taxation was also the product an elite consensus. Taxation especially progressive, incremental taxation was a concession of the elite to the fact that the government to whom the responsibility for order had been given had to have the resources to do so. Without it, society was back to the chaos of might is right. The principle, that those who earn more should pay more, also had to be accepted, even if hurt them. Order is not merely an altruistic aspiration – it is self preservation.

So today, the reason a highly placed British citizen will balk at speaking to a judge or police about his case with a view to ‘seeking help’ is because he is part of an elite that has come to terms with the importance of judicial fairness, and integrity. He understands that his life and livelihood which may come up for adjudication someday are not worth much if the judge can be bought. But more importantly he realizes that if he can buy the judge someone else can. The reason why all over the world many trust the English judicial system is because it has consistently maintained its integrity and independence. So the choice of judges, again an elite consensus, is amongst the best legal minds in the profession, men of proven integrity, through a rigorous process of selection. Why do they not favour a nepotistic or quota system? It is clearly for the reason that the elite recognizes that justice upholds our system of order. Once the system is unreliable, society is at risk, everyone’s life and livelihood is potentially at risk.

I have taken the time of this distinguished audience to consider a few examples of the way in which the privileged, the elite in a society must attend to the obligations of their status. It is evident from the examples I have given, that if the “elite” in the societies considered, had not come together to act in the common good when they did, their civilisations would have either failed or been irreparably damaged.
It follows therefore, that the present state of our nation- the poverty and misery of the people, the failure of law and order, the corruption of the electoral system, the legitimization of corruption etc, are consequences of the failure of the privileged to discharge the obligations of their status. If the Nigerian elite were even sensitive enough to save itself as a collective not as individuals, that consensus will probably save the entire national project. Unfortunately coming together for the common good appears far too onerous a distraction from the chronic selfishness that defines those of us who constitute that elite.

But the self-centeredness of our elite is greatly compounded by a seeming lack of deep reflection. That ability to think deeply, not about self-alone, but about community.

In any event, self is endangered or at risk if community is disorganized or prone to arbitrariness. What best serves all is what makes sense, so that our lives may be lived in some measure of peace and happiness. Introspection helps us all, it helps to remove selfishness.

Take a simple issue, the availability of power. If power is so crucial to the livelihoods of all, if it affects livelihoods of the lowest, the carpenters, tailors, battery chargers, hairdressers and the highest, professionals, industry, services ,why is it not so high a priority that all effort is geared daily towards solving it? Why for example did the Obasanjo regime so vehemently oppose the Lagos private power initiative?

Introspection may help answer the question – so if I have all the money and I have all the facilities but I cannot prevent robbers from plundering my house (some of who are my purported bodyguards) or kidnapping me or my children, what then is the point? As I ride around in my jeep, it is not to the adulation but the resentment of my immediate neighbours in all the slums around me, all believing that they too can become like me, rich anyhow, selfish and uncaring about the rest.

Introspection might help move us from the childish one upmanship that manifests itself in more money, more jewellery, and more cars, so that I can show off to my neighbours and I oppress them with my wealth. In a society without power, water, healthcare, one which has the highest rates of malaria, tuberculosis and infant mortality, how can the conversation of our elite be : “”when are you going for mid-term? (Mid-term holidays of the children abroad) Or why do you prefer Virgin Atlantic when BA has the best first class seats? How can those of us who went to good schools here in this country now see how our schools now believe that they must have the token white headmaster or mistress regardless of real qualification, to answer our childish desire for the foreign.

Introspection might help us to reflect on the state of education. An open sore. What to do about cheating in exams, fake results, and the desperately poor quality of teaching and teachers. We know of course that knowledge will determine the place of any community in the coming years. Where is the big investment in education? Who are the educators and policy makers? Are they thinkers, planners who know what needs to be done? Are we engaging the best minds to plan and plot or most significant resource – human capital? If not, then how do we get out of this educational rot? What sort of teachers do we need? How long will it take? How much will it cost? Surely we cannot afford the proliferation of fake graduates in every discipline emerging from our campuses and especially the so called satellite campuses – themselves, victims of a failed school system.

I will not risk my life on a plane flown by a pilot from Ikenne, (my hometown) if I was told that the reason why he was hired pilot was not because he was the best but because the management of the airline was in search of an Ikenne man to fly the plane.

Reflection will probably show why the insistence of our elite on “quotas” and ethnic balancing in public service appointments is usually not for altruistic or nationalistic reasons. Why would the advocates of ethnic balancing not apply the same principle in the choice of doctors who treat them when they are ill? I will not risk my life on a plane flown by a pilot from Ikenne, (my hometown) if I was told that the reason why he was hired pilot was not because he was the best but because the management of the airline was in search of an Ikenne man to fly the plane. But our public services, our vital government ministries have been known to be run by appointees whose main qualification for the particular assignment was “state of origin”.
Why would anyone insist as is the case in state universities across the country- that their vice chancellors and heads of departments must be indigenes? Yet the same decision makers- dispatch their own children to foreign universities built on principles of universalism of knowledge and where the smartest men and women are sought to head their institutions regardless of race, colour or creed.
“Some reflection might help the privileged to insist as other civilisations have done, on the sanctity of the orders of courts and the rule of law. Unfortunately ,our elite, like the motley crowd, gets carried away in their thirst for the blood of the next victim in their class , they look away and even hail, when an overzealous agency of government in the name of overriding public interest, ignore the orders of a court and violate the tenets of the rule of law.

But soon enough, the wheels turn full cycle to hurt those who cheered when their guarantee of liberty and fairness was contemptuously ignored. For example I do not have to be a great friend of a Bank MD in detention or approve of Lamido Sanusi, to object strenuously to the Central Bank Nigeria or EFCC refusing to obey the orders of a court!

Why are we innovative but unable to sustain innovation? Many of the countries even in Africa, are not nearly as creative as Nigerians can be but they outlast us in their capacity to keep what they have working. Maintenance. Thus what must be celebrated as a core principle is ‘sustaining innovation’ not necessarily innovation, the sheer number of abandoned projects clearly shows that innovation is not the problem.

Must we not establish integrity as a core principle? How does integrity become a national ethic? What will it cost to appropriate honesty to our national ethos and how? Integrity of course here refers to basic honesty, commitment to one’s word, trustworthiness. Can we develop a system that rewards transparency, honest service and sanctions misbehaviour, a society based on cheating is rotten at its heart and will ultimately self destruct.

An ‘elite’ consensus to destroy 419 before it ruined our image as a nation could have prevented or reduced the now phenomenal cost of winning back the confidence of the world. No nation in the world would watch itself destroyed without taking action, witness US and 9/11 and how nations react to threats against their livelihoods. Somehow we have not reacted in the same way to the 419 scourge or at least in the way that demonstrates our recognition of the fact that this vocation of obtaining by false pretences now defines us everywhere and threatens to ruin access to credit internationally and eligibility to do business with the rest of the world. An elite consensus could get everyone, including children, searching out 419ers and exposing them. At least making the enterprise extremely unattractive.
A failure of our criminal justice system to apprehend and punish offenders has legitimized stealing at every level. The pilfering in homes, offices, frauds in banks, stealing by drivers, to white collar criminality, all are hardly ever punished. Despite all the pilfering that goes on and on daily.

How many times in recent years has anyone been jailed for simple stealing? Despite the acknowledged high level of petty and grand criminality in our large population, Lagos alone, 16 -17 million, we have one of the lowest convicts per capita, in the world. The criminal justice system fails because we pretend not to know that it is not functioning right.

Can we not have state/community police and a federal police to deal with federal offenses, elections, etc as do other federal systems. Can we not set national minimum standards for police officers e.g. at least first degree or HND for entry level policemen.

Policing is a joke. The desire to feather individual nests makes it impossible to review our policing options. Every IG dishonestly claims that he would reduce crimes and protect the public. But is soon reduced to helping the government harass its perceived enemies. It is obvious of course that you cannot run a federal system of the size of Nigeria without community police. Posting a policeman of Sokoto origin to Anambra where he does not speak or understand the language and certainly does not know the neighbourhood is at best a cynical approach to law enforcement. Effective policing must be local.
Can we not have state/community police and a federal police to deal with federal offenses, elections, etc as do other federal systems. Can we not set national minimum standards for police officers e.g. at least first degree or HND for entry level policemen.

Today, different state judiciaries can compete in justice delivery innovations and performance and best practices can be copied across jurisdictions. A national judiciary may have been attractive to some, but it certainly cannot beat a system where each state depending on its work load determines the number of its courts and judges such as is largely the case now..Just before the 2011 elections the National Assembly passed an amendment to the Constitution which set a time limit of 180 days from the date of filing of an Election Petition to its conclusion. 60 days was also set for conclusion of appeals. The impression that most had was that if during the course of trial a party went on appeal the 180 days would be frozen to enable the 60 day period of appeal to run and not to jeopardise the petition because one party chose to appeal. However much to the surprise and anguish of many Petitioners the Supreme Court took the view that even while an appeal is going on the 180 day period also continues to run ! in the result most election petitions were struck out on the time technicality alone. Unfortunately the Supreme Court adopted an unnecessarily technical interpretation of a Constitutional provision which affected the basic structure of the Constitution. Let me explain. The clear effect of the amendment constricted the power of the Courts to do justice, a gross violation of the plenitude of judicial power in Section 6(6)(b). Besides the provision again supports a violation of the Fair Hearing provisions in Section 36. If this provision were in force before the 2007 elections the rigged elections in Osun, Ondo , Edo and Ekiti would never have been reversed. Each took at least 18 months to reverse. Now as the next set of elections approach we may see the bloodiest contest for power yet in our nation. Every one now knows the rules if you manage to get your name announced as Governor even by holding a gun to the head of the returning officer you will remain Governor because the courts can not help the petitioner. There are too many ways of making 180 days run out! How can any Presidential contestant prove electoral malpractices in 36 States and Abuja in 6 months including appeals when to even prove malpractices in one state and 30 LGS is impossible in that same time. So here we are with a disaster looming and our Elite remain calm. Where is our legacy ? fortunately history is still in the making. There is time to seize the initiative and recognise that the responsibility of nation building lies on men and women not spirits and that we are those men and women. That is the responsibility of privilege.

CONCLUSION

I leave you with a story. In 1994 I served as a United Nations justice sector expert in Mogadishu, Somalia. The country had failed then, after several years of misrule, corruption, neglect of social justice and disregard for the rule of law. The nation was now managed by war lords. (Area boys to use a more familiar expression) every part of the city and country had its own reigning war lord. There was hardly any food, chaos everywhere.

In one of the camps where hungry men, women and children queued up for food in a long line with their bowls. On the line were former university professors, former senior public servants, former Supreme Court justices, former journalists, all hungry, waiting in line with their little bowls for food from the World Food Programme.

Ebola Update: The Story of Dr. Ada Igonoh – A Survivor

As Nigeria battles with the outbreak of Ebola, we consistently commend the dedication and selflessness of the doctors, nurses and other healthcare professionals.

Lives have been lost, and families have had to undergo the trauma of isolation. The fear of the unknown even very crippling. We read about the numbers in the news, but when we put a face to the news reports, it brings it home. Dr. Ada Igonoh of First Consultants Hospital is one of the doctors who attended to Patrick Sawyer. She was infected by the virus and miraculously, she survives to share her story with BellaNaija.

It is a long read but definitely worth reading as Dr. Ada details her experience. It’s a really gripping read which shows the story of strength, faith and dedication. We are grateful to Ada for sharing her story with us.

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On the night of Sunday July 20, 2014, Patrick Sawyer was wheeled into the Emergency Room at First Consultants Medical Centre, Obalende, Lagos, with complaints of fever and body weakness. The male doctor on call admitted him as a case of malaria and took a full history. Knowing that Mr Sawyer had recently arrived from Liberia, the doctor asked if he had been in contact with an Ebola patient in the last couple of weeks, and Mr. Sawyer denied any such contact. He also denied attending any funeral ceremony recently. Blood samples were taken for full blood count, malaria parasites, liver function test and other baseline investigations. He was admitted into a private room and started on antimalarial drugs and analgesics. That night, the full blood count result came back as normal and not indicative of infection.

The following day however, his condition worsened. He barely ate any of his meals. His liver function test result showed his liver enzymes were markedly elevated. We then took samples for HIV and hepatitis screening.

At about 5.00pm, he requested to see a doctor. I was the doctor on call that night so I went in to see him. He was lying in bed with his intravenous (I.V.) fluid bag removed from its metal stand and placed beside him. He complained that he had stooled about five times that evening and that he wanted to use the bathroom again. I picked up the I.V. bag from his bed and hung it back on the stand. I told him I would inform a nurse to come and disconnect the I.V. so he could conveniently go to the bathroom. I walked out of his room and went straight to the nurses’ station where I told the nurse on duty to disconnect his I.V. I then informed my Consultant, Dr. Ameyo Adadevoh about the patient’s condition and she asked that he be placed on some medications.

The following day, the results for HIV and hepatitis screening came out negative. As we were preparing for the early morning ward rounds, I was approached by an ECOWAS official who informed me that Patrick Sawyer had to catch an 11 o’clock flight to Calabar for a retreat that morning. He wanted to know if it would be possible. I told him it wasn’t, as he was acutely ill. Dr. Adadevoh also told him the patient could certainly not leave the hospital in his condition. She then instructed me to write very boldly on his chart that on no account should Patrick Sawyer be allowed out of the hospital premises without the permission of Dr. Ohiaeri, our Chief Medical Consultant. All nurses and doctors were duly informed.

During our early morning ward round with Dr. Adadevoh, we concluded that this was not malaria and that the patient needed to be screened for Ebola Viral Disease. She immediately started calling laboratories to find out where the test could be carried out. She was eventually referred to Professor Omilabu of the LUTH Virology Reference Lab in Idi-Araba whom she called immediately. Prof. Omilabu told her to send blood and urine samples to LUTH straight away. She tried to reach the Lagos State Commissioner for Health but was unable to contact him at the time. She also put calls across to officials of the Federal Ministry of Health and National Centre for Disease Control.

Dr. Adadevoh at this time was in a pensive mood. Patrick Sawyer was now a suspected case of Ebola, perhaps the first in the country. He was quarantined, and strict barrier nursing was applied with all the precautionary measures we could muster. Dr. Adadevoh went online, downloaded information on Ebola and printed copies which were distributed to the nurses, doctors and ward maids. Blood and urine samples were sent to LUTH that morning. Protective gear, gloves, shoe covers and facemasks were provided for the staff. A wooden barricade was placed at the entrance of the door to keep visitors and unauthorized personnel away from the patient.

Despite the medications prescribed earlier, the vomiting and diarrhea persisted. The fever escalated from 38c to 40c.

On the morning of Wednesday 23rd July, the tests carried out in LUTH showed a signal for Ebola. Samples were then sent to Dakar, Senegal for a confirmatory test. Dr. Adadevoh went for several meetings with the Lagos State Ministry of Health. Thereafter, officials from Lagos State came to inspect the hospital and the protective measures we had put in place.

The following day, Thursday 24th July, I was again on call. At about 10.00pm Mr. Sawyer requested to see me. I went into the newly created dressing room, donned my protective gear and went in to see him. He had not been cooperating with the nurses and had refused any additional treatment. He sounded confused and said he received a call from Liberia asking for a detailed medical report to be sent to them. He also said he had to travel back to Liberia on a 5.00am flight the following morning and that he didn’t want to miss his flight. I told him that I would inform Dr. Adadevoh. As I was leaving the room, I met Dr. Adadevoh dressed in her protective gear along with a nurse and another doctor. They went into his room to have a discussion with him and as I heard later to reset his I.V. line which he had deliberately removed after my visit to his room.

At 6:30am, Friday 25th July, I got a call from the nurse that Patrick Sawyer was completely unresponsive. Again I put on the protective gear and headed to his room. I found him slumped in the bathroom. I examined him and observed that there was no respiratory movement. I felt for his pulse; it was absent. We had lost him. It was I who certified Patrick Sawyer dead. I informed Dr. Adadevoh immediately and she instructed that no one was to be allowed to go into his room for any reason at all. Later that day, officials from W.H.O came and took his body away. The test in Dakar later came out positive for Zaire strain of the Ebola virus. We now had the first official case of Ebola virus disease in Nigeria.

It was a sobering day. We all began to go over all that happened in the last few days, wondering just how much physical contact we had individually made with Patrick Sawyer. Every patient on admission was discharged that day and decontamination began in the hospital. We were now managing a crisis situation. The next day, Saturday 26th July, all staff of First Consultants attended a meeting with Prof. Nasidi of the National Centre for Disease Control, Prof Omilabu of LUTH Virology Reference Lab, and some officials of W.H.O. They congratulated us on the actions we had taken and enlightened us further about the Ebola Virus Disease. They said we were going to be grouped into high risk and low risk categories based on our individual level of exposure to Patrick Sawyer, the “index” case. Each person would receive a temperature chart and a thermometer to record temperatures in the morning and night for the next 21 days. We were all officially under surveillance. We were asked to report to them at the first sign of a fever for further blood tests to be done. We were reassured that we would all be given adequate care. The anxiety in the air was palpable.

The frenetic pace of life in Lagos, coupled with the demanding nature of my job as a doctor, means that I occasionally need a change of environment. As such, one week before Patrick Sawyer died, I had gone to my parents’ home for a retreat. I was still staying with them when I received my temperature chart and thermometer on Tuesday 29th of July. I could not contain my anxiety. People were talking Ebola everywhere – on television, online, everywhere. I soon started experiencing joint and muscle aches and a sore throat, which I quickly attributed to stress and anxiety. I decided to take malaria tablets. I also started taking antibiotics for the sore throat. The first couple of temperature readings were normal. Every day I would attempt to recall the period Patrick Sawyer was on admission – just how much direct and indirect contact did I have with him? I reassured myself that my contact with him was quite minimal. I completed the anti-malarials but the aches and pains persisted. I had loss of appetite and felt very tired.

On Friday 1st of August, my temperature read a high 38.7c. As I type this, I recall the anxiety I felt that morning. I could not believe what I saw on the thermometer. I ran to my mother’s room and told her. I did not go to work that day. I cautiously started using a separate set of utensils and cups from the ones my family members were using.

On Saturday 2nd of August, the fever worsened. It was now at 39c and would not be reduced by taking paracetamol. This was now my second day of fever. I couldn’t eat. The sore throat was getting worse. That was when I called the helpline and an ambulance was sent with W.H.O doctors who came and took a sample of my blood. Later that day, I started stooling and vomiting. I stayed away from my family. I started washing my plates and spoons myself. My parents meanwhile, were convinced that I could not have Ebola.

The following day, Sunday 3rd of August, I got a call from one of the doctors who came to take my sample the day before. He told me that the sample which was they had taken was not confirmatory, and that they needed another sample. He did not sound very coherent and I became worried. They came with the ambulance that afternoon and told me that I had to go with them to Yaba. I was confused. Couldn’t the second sample be taken in the ambulance like the previous one? He said a better-qualified person at the Yaba centre would take the sample. I asked if they would bring me back. He said “yes.” Even with the symptoms I did not believe I had Ebola. After all, my contact with Sawyer was minimal. I only touched his I.V. fluid bag just that once without gloves. The only time I actually touched him was when I checked his pulse and confirmed him dead, and I wore double gloves and felt adequately protected.

I told my parents I had to go with the officials to Yaba and that I would be back that evening. I wore a white top and a pair of jeans, and I put my iPad and phones in my bag.

A man opened the ambulance door for me and moved away from me rather swiftly. Strange behavior, I thought. They were friendly with me the day before, but that day, not so. No pleasantries, no smiles. I looked up and saw my mother watching through her bedroom window.

We soon got to Yaba. I really had no clue where I was. I knew it was a hospital. I was left alone in the back of the ambulance for over four hours. My mind was in a whirl. I didn’t know what to think. I was offered food to eat but I could barely eat the rice.

The ambulance door opened and a Caucasian gentleman approached me but kept a little distance. He said to me, “I have to inform you that your blood tested positive for Ebola. I am sorry.” I had no reaction. I think I must have been in shock. He then told me to open my mouth and he looked at my tongue. He said it was the typical Ebola tongue. I took out my mirror from my bag and took a look and I was shocked at what I saw. My whole tongue had a white coating, looked furry and had a long, deep ridge right in the middle. I then started to look at my whole body, searching for Ebola rashes and other signs as we had been recently instructed. I called my mother immediately and said, “Mummy, they said I have Ebola, but don’t worry, I will survive it. Please, go and lock my room now; don’t let anyone inside and don’t touch anything.” She was silent. I cut the line.

I was taken to the female ward. I was shocked at the environment. It looked like an abandoned building. I suspected it had not been in use for quite a while. As I walked in, I immediately recognized one of the ward maids from our hospital. She always had a smile for me but not this time. She was ill and she looked it. She had been stooling a lot too. I soon settled into my corner and looked around the room. It smelled of faeces and vomit. It also had a characteristic Ebola smell to which I became accustomed. Dinner was served – rice and stew. The pepper stung my mouth and tongue. I dropped the spoon. No dinner that night.

Dr. David, the Caucasian man who had met me at the ambulance on my arrival, came in wearing his full protective ‘hazmat’ suit and goggles. It was fascinating seeing one live. I had only seen them online. He brought bottles of water and ORS, the oral fluid therapy which he dropped by my bedside. He told me that 90 percent of the treatment depended on me. He said I had to drink at least 4.5 litres of ORS daily to replace fluids lost in stooling and vomiting. I told him I had stooled three times earlier and taken Imodium tablets to stop the stooling. He said it was not advisable, as the virus would replicate the more inside of me. It was better he said to let it out. He said good night and left.

My parents called. My uncle called. My husband called crying. He could not believe the news. My parents had informed him, as I didn’t even know how to break the news to him.

As I lay on my bed in that isolation ward, strangely, I did not fear for my life. I was confident that I would leave that ward some day. There was an inner sense of calm. I did not for a second think I would be consumed by the disease. That evening, the symptoms fully kicked in. I was stooling almost every two hours. The toilets did not flush so I had to fetch water in a bucket from the bathroom each time I used the toilet. I then placed another bucket beneath my bed for the vomiting.

On occasion I would run to the toilet with a bottle of ORS, so that as I was stooling, I was drinking.

The next day Monday 4th of August, I began to notice red rashes on my skin particularly on my arms. I had developed sores all over my mouth. My head was pounding so badly. The sore throat was so severe I could not eat. I could only drink the ORS. I took paracetamol for the pain. The ward maid across from me wasn’t doing so well. She had stopped speaking. I couldn’t even brush my teeth; the sores in my mouth were so bad. This was a battle for my life but I was determined I would not die.

Every morning, I began the day with reading and meditating on Psalm 91. The sanitary condition in the ward left much to be desired. The whole Ebola thing had caught everyone by surprise. Lagos State Ministry of Health was doing its best to contain the situation but competent hands were few. The sheets were not changed for days. The floor was stained with greenish vomitus and excrement. Dr. David would come in once or twice a day and help clean up the ward after chatting with us. He was the only doctor who attended to us. There was no one else at that time. The matrons would leave our food outside the door; we had to go get the food ourselves. They hardly entered in the initial days. Everyone was being careful. This was all so new. I could understand, was this not how we ourselves had contracted the disease? Mosquitoes were our roommates until they brought us mosquito nets.

Later that evening, Dr. David brought another lady into the ward. I recognized her immediately as Justina Ejelonu, a nurse who had started working at First Consultants on the 21st of July, a day after Patrick Saywer was admitted. She was on duty on the day Patrick reported that he was stooling. While she was attending to him that night, he had yanked off his drip, letting his blood flow almost like a tap onto her hands. Justina was pregnant and was brought into our ward bleeding from a suspected miscarriage. She had been told she was there only on observation. The news that she had contracted Ebola was broken to her the following day after results of her blood test came out positive. Justina was devastated and wept profusely – she had contracted Ebola on her first day at work.

My husband started visiting but was not allowed to come close to me. He could only see me from a window at a distance. He visited so many times. It was he who brought me a change of clothes and toiletries and other things I needed because I had not even packed a bag. I was grateful I was not with him at home when I fell ill or he would most certainly have contracted the disease. My retreat at my parents’ home turned out to be the instrumentality God used to shield and save him.

I drank the ORS fluid like my life depended on it. Then I got a call from my pastor. He had been informed about my predicament. He called me every single day morning and night and would pray with me over the phone. He later sent me a CD player, CDs of messages on faith and healing, and Holy Communion packs through my husband. My pastor, who also happens to be a medical doctor, encouraged me to monitor how many times I had stooled and vomited each day and how many bottles of ORS I had consumed. We would then discuss the disease and pray together. He asked me to do my research on Ebola since I had my iPad with me and told me that he was also doing his study. He wanted us to use all relevant information on Ebola to our advantage. So I researched and found out all I could about the strange disease that has been in existence for 38 years. My research, my faith, my positive view of life, the extended times of prayer, study and listening to encouraging messages boosted my belief that I would survive the Ebola scourge.

There are five strains of the virus and the deadliest of them is the Zaire strain, which was what I had. But that did not matter. I believed I would overcome even the deadliest of strains. Infected patients who succumb to the disease usually die between 6 to 16 days after the onset of the disease from multiple organ failure and shock caused by dehydration. I was counting the days and keeping myself well hydrated. I didn’t intend to die in that ward.

My research gave me ammunition. I read that as soon as the virus gets into the body, it begins to replicate really fast. It enters the blood cells, destroys them and uses those same blood cells to aggressively invade other organs where they further multiply. Ideally, the body’s immune system should immediately mount up a response by producing antibodies to fight the virus. If the person is strong enough, and that strength is sustained long enough for the immune system to kill off the viruses, the patient is likely to survive. If the virus replicates faster than the antibodies can handle however, further damage is done to the organs. Ebola can be likened to a multi-level, multi-organ attack but I had no intention of letting the deadly virus destroy my system. I drank more ORS. I remember saying to myself repeatedly, “I am a survivor, I am a survivor.”

I also found out that a patient with Ebola cannot be re-infected and they cannot relapse back into the disease as there is some immunity conferred on survivors. My pastor and I would discuss these findings, interpret them as it related to my situation and pray together. I looked forward to his calls. They were times of encouragement and strengthening. I continued to meditate on the Word of God. It was my daily bread.

Shortly after Justina came into the ward, the ward maid, Mrs Ukoh passed on. The disease had gotten into her central nervous system. We stared at her lifeless body in shock. It was a whole 12 hours before officials of W.H.O came and took her body away. The ward had become the house of death. The whole area surrounding her bed was disinfected with bleach. Her mattress was taken and burned.

To contain the frequent diarrhea, I had started wearing adult diapers, as running to the toilet was no longer convenient for me. The indignity was quite overwhelming, but I did not have a choice. My faith was being severely tested. The situation was desperate enough to break anyone psychologically. Dr. Ohiaeri also called us day and night, enquiring about our health and the progress we were making. He sent provisions, extra drugs, vitamins, Lucozade, towels, tissue paper; everything we needed to be more comfortable in that dark hole we found ourselves. Some of my male colleagues had also been admitted to the male ward two rooms away, but there was no interaction with them.

We were saddened by the news that Jato, the ECOWAS protocol officer to Patrick Sawyer who had also tested positive, had passed on days after he was admitted.

Two more females joined us in the ward; a nurse from our hospital and a patient from another hospital. The mood in the ward was solemn. There were times we would be awakened by the sudden, loud cry from one of the women. It was either from fear, pain mixed with the distress or just the sheer oppression of our isolation.

I kept encouraging myself. This could not be the end for me. Five days after I was admitted, the vomiting stopped. A day after that, the diarrhea ceased. I was overwhelmed with joy. It happened at a time I thought I could no longer stand the ORS. Drinking that fluid had stretched my endurance greatly.

I knew countless numbers of people were praying for me. Prayer meetings were being held on my behalf. My family was praying day and night. Text messages of prayers flooded my phones from family members and friends. I was encouraged to press on. With the encouragement I was receiving I began to encourage the others in the ward. We decided to speak life and focus on the positive. I then graduated from drinking only the ORS fluid to eating only bananas, to drinking pap and then bland foods. Just when I thought I had the victory, I suddenly developed a severe fever. The initial fever had subsided four days after I was admitted, and then suddenly it showed up again. I thought it was the Ebola. I enquired from Dr. David who said fever was sometimes the last thing to go, but he expressed surprise that it had stopped only to come back on again. I was perplexed.

I discussed it with my pastor who said it could be a separate pathology and possibly a symptom of malaria. He promised he would research if indeed this was Ebola or something else. That night as I stared at the dirty ceiling, I felt a strong impression that the new fever I had developed was not as a result of Ebola but malaria. I was relieved. The following morning, Dr. Ohiaeri sent me antimalarial medication which I took for three days. Before the end of the treatment, the fever had disappeared.

I began to think about my mother. She was under surveillance along with my other family members. I was worried. She had touched my sweat. I couldn’t get the thought off my mind. I prayed for her. Hours later on Twitter I came across a tweet by W.H.O saying that the sweat of an Ebola patient cannot transmit the virus at the early stage of the infection. The sweat could only transmit it at the late stage.

That settled it for me. It calmed the storms that were raging within me concerning my parents. I knew right away it was divine guidance that caused me to see that tweet. I could cope with having Ebola, but I was not prepared to deal with a member of my family contracting it from me.

Soon, volunteer doctors started coming to help Dr. David take care of us. They had learned how to protect themselves. Among the volunteer doctors was Dr. Badmus, my consultant in LUTH during my housemanship days. It was good to see a familiar face among the care-givers. I soon understood the important role these brave volunteers were playing. As they increased in number, so did the number of shifts increase and subsequently the number of times the patients could access a doctor in one day. This allowed for more frequent patient monitoring and treatment. It also reduced care-giver fatigue. It was clear that Lagos State was working hard to contain the crisis

Sadly, Justina succumbed to the disease on the 12th of August. It was a great blow and my faith was greatly shaken as a result. I commenced daily Bible study with the other two female patients and we would encourage one another to stay positive in our outlook though in the natural it was grim and very depressing. My communion sessions with the other women were very special moments for us all.

On my 10th day in the ward, the doctors having noted that I had stopped vomiting and stooling and was no longer running a fever, decided it was time to take my blood sample to test if the virus had cleared from my system. They took the sample and told me that I shouldn’t be worried if it comes out positive as the virus takes a while before it is cleared completely. I prayed that I didn’t want any more samples collected from me. I wanted that to be the first and last sample to be tested for the absence of the virus in my system. I called my pastor. He encouraged me and we prayed again about the test.

On the evening of the day Justina passed on, we were moved to the new isolation centre. We felt like we were leaving hell and going to heaven.

We were conveyed to the new place in an ambulance. It was just behind the old building. Time would not permit me to recount the drama involved with the dynamics of our relocation. It was like a script from a science fiction movie. The new building was cleaner and much better than the old building. Towels and nightwear were provided on each bed. The environment was serene.

The following night, Dr. Adadevoh was moved to our isolation ward from her private room where she had previously been receiving treatment. She had also tested positive for Ebola and was now in a coma. She was receiving I.V. fluids and oxygen support and was being monitored closely by the W.H.O doctors. We all hoped and prayed that she would come out of it. It was so difficult seeing her in that state. I could not bear it. She was my consultant, my boss, my teacher and my mentor. She was the imperial lady of First Consultants, full of passion, energy and competence. I imagined she would wake up soon and see that she was surrounded by her First Consultants family but sadly it was not to be.

I continued listening to my healing messages. They gave me life. I literarily played them hours on end. Two days later, on Saturday the 16th of August, the W.H.O doctors came with some papers. I was informed that the result of my blood test was negative for Ebola virus. If I could somersault, I would have but my joints were still slightly painful. I was free to go home after being in isolation for exactly 14 days. I was so full of thanks and praise to God. I called my mother to get fresh clothes and slippers and come pick me. My husband couldn’t stop shouting when I called him. He was completely overwhelmed with joy.

I was told however that I could not leave the ward with anything I came in with. I glanced one last time at my cd player, my valuable messages, my research assistant a.k.a my iPad, my phones and other items. I remember saying to myself, “I have life; I can always replace these items.”

I went for a chlorine bath, which was necessary to disinfect my skin from my head to my toes. It felt like I was being baptized into a new life as Dr. Carolina, a W.H.O doctor from Argentina poured the bucket of chlorinated water all over me. I wore a new set of clothes, following the strict instructions that no part of the clothes must touch the floor and the walls. Dr. Carolina looked on, making sure I did as instructed.

I was led out of the bathroom and straight to the lawn to be united with my family, but first I had to cut the red ribbon that served as a barrier. It was a symbolic expression of my freedom. Everyone cheered and clapped. It was a little but very important ceremony for me. I was free from Ebola! I hugged my family as one who had been liberated after many years of incarceration. I was like someone who had fought death face to face and come back to the land of the living.

We had to pass through several stations of disinfection before we reached the car. Bleach and chlorinated water were sprayed on everyone’s legs at each station. As we made our way to the car, we walked past the old isolation building. I could hardly recognize it. I could not believe I slept in that building for 10 days. I was free! Free of Ebola. Free to live again. Free to interact with humanity again. Free from the sentence of death.

My parents and two brothers were under surveillance for 21 days and they completed the surveillance successfully. None of them came down with a fever. The house had been disinfected by Lagos State Ministry of Health soon after I was taken to the isolation centre. I thank God for shielding them from the plague.

My recovery after discharge has been gradual but progressive. I thank God for the support of family and friends. I remember my colleagues who we lost in this battle. Dr. Adadevoh my boss, Nurse Justina Ejelonu, and the ward maid, Mrs. Ukoh were heroines who lost their lives in the cause to protect Nigeria. They will never be forgotten.

I commend the dedication of the W.H.O doctors, Dr. David from Virginia, USA, who tried several times to convince me to specialize in infectious diseases, Dr. Carolina from Argentina who spoke so calmly and encouragingly, Mr. Mauricio from Italy who always offered me apples and gave us novels to read. I especially thank the volunteer Nigerian doctors, matrons and cleaners who risked their lives to take care of us. I must also commend the Lagos State government, and the state and federal ministries of health for their swift efforts to contain the virus. To all those prayed for me, I cannot thank you enough. And to my First Consultants family, I say a heartfelt thank you for your dedication and for your support throughout this very difficult period.

I still believe in miracles. None of us in the isolation ward was given any experimental drugs or so-called immune boosters. I was full of faith yet pragmatic enough to consume as much ORS as I could even when I wanted to give up and throw the bottles away. I researched on the disease extensively and read accounts of the survivors. I believed that even if the mortality rate was 99%, I would be part of the 1% who survive.

Early detection and reporting to hospital is key to patient survival. Please do not hide yourself if you have been in contact with an Ebola patient and have developed the symptoms. Regardless of any grim stories one may have heard about the treatment of patients in the isolation centre, it is still better to be in the isolation ward with specialist care, than at home where you and others will be at risk.

I read that Dr. Kent Brantly, the American doctor who contracted Ebola in Liberia and was flown out to the United States for treatment was being criticized for attributing his healing to God when he was given the experimental drug, Zmapp. I don’t claim to have all the answers to the nagging questions of life. Why do some die and some survive? Why do bad things happen to good people? Where is God in the midst of pain and suffering? Where does science end and God begin? These are issues we may never fully comprehend on this side of eternity. All I know is that I walked through the valley of the shadow of death and came out unscathed.

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We’d like to thank Dr. Ada Igonoh for sharing her inspirational story with BellaNaija.

We’re hoping the spread of Ebola Virus is curbed soon, and we’re thankful for all the health workers and medical researchers around the world, who are working tirelessly to achieve this goal.

Culled From http://www.bellaNaija.com