The Nigerian Patient (I)

One of the best books I read last year was titled: Be(com)ing Nigerian: A guide, by Elnathan John. It is a satirical approach to all things Nigerian; religion, politics, marriage, down to the way we treat our house helps! I laughed and cringed so many times, I thought I had a Bipolar Disorder. In his […]

The Nigerian Patient (I)

One of the best books I read last year was titled: Be(com)ing Nigerian: A guide, by Elnathan John. It is a satirical approach to all things Nigerian; religion, politics, marriage, down to the way we treat our house helps! I laughed and cringed so many times, I thought I had a Bipolar Disorder.

In his book, he mentions, in different chapters, how to be a Nigerian Mechanic (yes, you better believe it), journalist, policeman and even a Nigerian kidnapper. But what he neglected to include and perhaps a very crucial part of being Nigerian, is how to be a Nigerian Patient. However, I forgive him; it is not easy to be a famous writer. Besides, nobody understands a Nigerian patient better than a Nigerian doctor.  The physiology of the Nigerian patient is unique and differs from that of other patients the world over and therefore I your trusted doctor, out of the magnanimity of my heart, will tell you why. Stay with me.

First things first, the average Nigerian patient despises hospitals. They have already been told that hospitals are bad places where people go only after they have consulted various herbalists. Or when they are about to die. Thereafter, they go to the clinics, with long faces expecting a miracle. Even the enlightened ones amongst them will consume all kind of Aloe vera, Moringa and Chinese concoction before eventually visiting the hospital for that blood pressure that has refused to come down. Never mind that, the patient’s, cousin’s father’s sister had breast cancer and went to one mallam in the village, who of course disclosed that it was her wicked stepmother or co-wife (whichever is applicable) that caused it and so by the time she presented to the hospital, the cancer had spread to her lungs. All that matters is, she died in a hospital. And for that, they despise the hospital and take everything the doctor says with a pinch of salt.

Occasionally, this anger boils into rage causing them to shout at the nurses, record personnel and doctors in order to prove their point. They come into the emergency wards, screaming and in some cases attacking staff, because they have not been attended to. They do not know that in Emergencies, patients are triaged and seen according to the most urgent (therefore needing resuscitation). No, their only concern is that, the patient brought in, who suffered a stroke three days ago (of course they had to visit their marabout/mallam/pastor first) has not been attended to, after two hours of waiting in a government hospital.

This description, however, only applies to the lower- and middle-class Nigerian patient. As for the crème de la crème of Nigeria, they only subject their delicate bodies to doctors in the UK, US or even faraway Asia, never Nigerian doctors. It does not matter that they sometimes end up seeing a certain Dr Balogun in the UK; what matters most is, that they travelled abroad to treat their earache. Like I said earlier, the Nigerian patient loathes Nigerian hospitals.

Secondly, the Nigerian patient is always in denial. They have perfected the act of denial so well that they deserve Oscar Awards! A simple question like ‘Madam, do you have Diabetes?’ is answered with: ‘Me, Diabetes? God forbid!’ A quick glance at her records will show that she has been diagnosed several times but refuses to accept her diagnosis. Another very common scenario is when the doctor says: ‘Oga, your wife needs a Caesarean Section to deliver her baby safely’. This is often met with: ‘I reject it! It is not my portion! Let me take her home jare!’ I often wonder: Then, whose portion is it? All those people that have caesarean sections, is it that God does not like them?

The pregnant woman is then taken to church where anointing oil is lathered all over her belly. Later, she goes into labour. After several hours of pushing with no baby, they bring the exhausted mother back to the hospital. Ultrasound scan reveals the baby has died. When you inform them, they reply: ‘It is God’s will’. God has suffered in the hands of Nigerian patients!

On that rare occasion when you do get a patient who concedes and you ask: ‘Hajia, do you have Asthma?’ she usually replies with -‘Yes, but only a little bit. It does not bother me at all’. Kai! Which one is a little bit of Asthma? The Nigerian patient would rather suffer than admit openly that he or she has an illness. Therefore, instead of joining the race to create a vaccine like other countries, Government will continue to channel money into the National Orientation Agency (NOA) just so that Nigerians actually believe that COVID-19 exists.

Like I said, the Nigerian patient has a unique perspective. Sickle cell? Lai lai. HIV? Deny it. Cancer? Reject it. COVID-19? It does not exist!