Good Bye Dr. Your Country Failed You.

Dr dies from Lassa

 

You would have woken up that day, energetic, looking to contribute your quota to the hallowed profession and your country

Or you may not have slept seeing as it was a weekend

Sunday January 21, a day your family will never forget

Probably you’d beenĀ  working right from Saturday

WEEKEND CALL, WEEKEND CALL.

 

You would have spent the weekend clerking new patients, taking blood samples from old patients

Doing ward rounds and still reading about the cases just so your consultant would not embarass you

In between being sent on house boy errands by your senior colleagues

In between looking for a few minutes to catch up on sleep

In between Nurses calling you from various wards to re set IV lines that have tissued.

In between wondering where your next meal would come from.

 

“Doctor there’s a new patient for you to see”

The nurse’s work is done, she has told you

You pick your stethoscope. You ask for gloves

“Borrow from the patients.” The matron advices

You find a pair of latex gloves

gloves that have not passed regular quality checks

half bread is better than none.

“Nurse this patient is hot!”

there and then your life begins to change

No. Your life starts to end.

 

Lassa Fever!

“Call the consultant!”

” Young man, you are the doctor on duty, you’re in charge”

“Call the state epidemiologist!”

“Are you for real?”

“Call the ministry of health!”

“Young man, this is a weekend. Wait till monday morning maybe around 10am.”

 

I promised you mummy, I promised you daddy

The sleepless nights would not be in vain

The books you bought would not be in vain

All the money spent would not be in vain

I said I would make you proud.

“I don’t want to die! What is being done to stop this?”

“We will isolate you”

“Just lie on that couch there, watch out for that jutting spring”

 

“Where are my senior colleagues?”

“They’re still deciding what to do.”

“Where’s the commissioner?”

“Don’t worry he’s ontop of the situation.”

“Where’s my State Governor?”

“He just moved into his new home, don’t bother him”

“Where’s my President?”

“He’s flagging off his campaign”

“There are cows we have to find colonies for.”

 

(RIP DR AHMED VICTOR IDOWU, FMC. LOKOJA)

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2 Comments

  1. A harrowing account of institutional (and criminal) neglect and couldn’t care less attitudes, from your ‘superiors’ and too throughout the echelons of your political masters Dr E.
    RIP Dr Idowu.
    Anna

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