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Sunday, 22 November 2020

WHY I WRITE: OBEYING THE DIVINE



Why i write


I write to complete creation; to lend my hands to the moulding of this temporal space I am made to dwell in. 

I make sentences because my father left me with a head pan of letters and a shovel of words. He named me a builder and asked me to draw light from darkness, to invent and cement a storyline. He threatened to throw my birthright to the dogs if I do not create a soft landing, a base, an accessible megaphone to allow for koinonia among my brethren.

 I write with the audacity of a god, an heir to an empire the king left at foundation level and ascended into divine space. I write because I carry a yoke on my fingertips, a light burden that unearths itself in a form devoid of emptiness and ready to give the world shape. 

When I write, I am obeying the last wishes of my grandfather, a gentle spirit and king in a small village in southeastern Nigeria. I like to believe divinity sent him as my forerunner to deepen and uproot languages with his tongue, to travel across dynasties, and baptize royalties with moonlight stories so that I can be worthy enough to unbuckle the straps of people who have walked through timelessness. 

They say writing flows in my ancestry; that my mother and the mothers before her wrote on sands, that they registered shivers down the spines of men and scrawled threats into the palm wine keg of the drunkard who dared to beat them even before paper was invented. I write because I want to summon them, to make them have breath in this new world they are not accustomed to; to continue their legacy.

In this world full of limitations, writing is my escape route, my oxygen of confrontation, and my freedom lounge. When I write, I embody the temerity to call things that be not as though they are. Like a true daughter of a royal father, I give breath to clay and dare them to turn to dust.

I have the power to create life and take it, to transport bodies across continents from my favourite armchair and sprinkle diverse traits over the characters I have formed.

 When I put my pen to blank paper, I feel like a god with the bravado to build anthills in the savannah, to come out boldly and declare that the beautiful ones are not yet born, to look at the yellow sun and slice it in half, to behold the severity of chaos and still declare that everything good will come. 

I evade prosecution with my words. How I can boldly declare my sister a serial killer without facing the full wrath of the law or look the future in the eye and tell it that tomorrow died yesterday. I write because I can reinvent, alter time, build up, and tear down.

I write to remove the thorns of misogyny for daughters like me who will walk through tough paths on their journey to becoming unbreakable. I want to give them a weapon to bruise society when it tries to shrink them; to make them reject the suffering type of comfort that keeps them in anxiety with its claws around their necks.

I write to squeeze the necessity out of darkness until it is drained to comprehend the light. I write because, in a country clouded by bad judgment where I can be stoned to silence or death by anything that dares to fall apart, it is not my time to die. 


Writing workshops

I wrote this essay as a student at SprinNG & it was edited by my Mentor Ìbùkún

Wednesday, 4 November 2020

ON SARCASM AND SATIRE, WHAT DO I REALLY THINK?

 

What do you think about sarcasm and satire



Sarcasm and satire are my nosy neighbors and sassy best friends. When Chizaram, my overbearingly intrusive neighbor sees me struggling with my doorknob, a doorknob I spoilt and lazily forgot to call the carpenter to fix, she says, “hey! can I help?” and with relief in my heart I say, “yes please, I’d like that.” She looks at me, shrugs with indifference, and then walks away smirking, leaving me at the mercy and disappointment of a request I did not make. 

Chizaram once asked me whether the doctors were in need of more patients to fill up the empty hospital beds in the emergency ward because I left my gas cooker on and dozed off.

When I sang Blackbird by Nina Simone in my cracked rat-like pitch, she told me that Nina would be quaking at the awesomeness of my sonority. I do not know if I like Chizaram or not; maybe I like her a little because she made fun of our landlord’s big belly in front of everyone after he increased our rent. Or maybe not, but Chizaram is a necessary evil. 

When Ada sees me struggling with the doorknob, she tells me that the carpenter is not disabled, and the last time she checked, I didn’t have a degree in carpentry. When I doze off with my gas on, she tells me that crying is not my mother's favorite pastime, and my apartment will not mourn my departure to the great beyond. 

 When I sing Blackbird, Ada tells me to reduce my voice before Nina Simone loses her fan base; she says that she hopes the landlord’s bulgy belly is for charity. 

One time I flouted the traffic rules and I drove on the double lane. I was apprehended by the Police, and Ada came to bail me. I told her that a Public officer defaulted too, but the Policeman greeted him with a grin and flagged me down instead. She looked at me with tired eyes and said,  “all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.” 

I like Chizaram a lot. Some people don’t get her, but I do. I guess that’s why we are besties after all. 


Sarcasm and satire

I feel that both sarcasm and satire are important parts of humor and is necessary to spice up any form of writing, but I don’t always like to explain myself, and you have to explain sarcasm sometimes. You have to define your intention, you must explain sometimes that it is not out of spite, that you do not mean to be rude. Sometimes, you have to say to the person to whom you are being sarcastic, “can't you take a joke?” This happens a lot with sarcasm, but with satire, it's like bleach. It washes off the dirt from the surfaces, it enables the scales to fall from many eyes; it is a wakeup call – quite unexplainable. And like Elnathan John says, “never ever explain satire. 





Friday, 30 October 2020

IN CONVERSATION WITH A FRIEND: GENDER EQUITY V GENDER EQUALITY

Gender Equality v gender equality

This is a conversation I had with my friend on WhatsApp on gender equality. We had a little back and forth until we got to the equity part. I consider it an interesting conversation to share outside WhatsApp so I put it up here. What you are about to read is his message to me and my response to him. I'd love to read your opinions on this. What are your reservations, what feels true to you? What do you agree or disagree with? 


HIS MESSAGE 

You can go on and on... 

But you're still missing where I'm coming from. 

I told you I don't support gender equality. I support Gender equity.

Why? Simple. We're not the same. 

No matter how we try to paint it, with sentiments and stuffs,

No matter the injustice that may be deduced in it, 

The fact still remains. 

Male and Female are two different species altogether. Even God had to be particular in making the differences down to the minute physical attributes. 

We're different emotionally, psychologically, physically, mentally. Although the mental part vastly majors of individual differences than Gender differences.

If the two homo sapien species are this different, 

why advocate for equality? 

That will be wrong.

We are not equal, and therefore, can't be treated equally.

I'm not saying men are greater than women,

I'm saying that males are superior to females. It's a well known historical fact. 

But the real problem is that the males tend to be superior and take advantage of the females even in their little right... Just like the proverbial rich man who had many cattle yet went to kill that one Lamb of the poor man for his visitor.

That's why I advocate Equity. Fairness.

Even down to our homes, your parents probably won't treat you the way they treat your brother. 

Historic facts even uphold that. 

You Feminists turn away from the ills that befall men because they are men and focus more on the marginalization of women which actually isn't as intense as you all posit it to be. You also forget about certain privileges you guys automatically get just because you are women. 

Over history, men are the one that get whipped, women aren't (just because they are women). Most times, if they do something that warrant whipping or something, it's a male from her family that will be called upon to bear the pains. You also forget that it is the men that go to war and die fighting to protect the women. If you wanted Equality, why not the women fight alongside the men too? But no, they stay at home tending to the children... and chickens.

Over the times I go camping, the best places are always reserved for the females. Just because they are females. There were many times we had to sleep on the floor of a windowless class and bathe in the open wgile enduring the chilling cold while the girls sleep in warm beds and bathe in good bathrooms with steamed water! 

Yet, did we complain? No. Because we get to have certain compensations and privileges. It's like a balance of power.


Naturally, women are weak physically (there are few exceptions tho). 

So hard works and jobs are reserved for the men. If you all want equality, let's start there. Do what we do.

"What a man can do, a woman can do better" is one of the most ridiculous statements I've heard in this century. It's absurd. Fallacy of false generalization. I actually know there are some things a woman can do better than a man like childbirth for example😂🔥.

So my dear,

If we begin to unravel the ills men face and the privileges women get even when it is at the detriment of a man, you'll believe that what you should be advocating for is Equity. Your rights shouldn't be trampled upon and stuff. Like the voting part. It should be for everyone. Women should have a say in the government. 

But when it gets to women getting the same privileges reserved for Men, 

Don't go there. 

We don't get to have those privileges reserved for women.


MY RESPONSE 

You can not support gender equity and be against gender equality.

Gender equity is the process of being fair to women and men. To ensure fairness, strategies and measures must often be available to compensate for the historical and social disadvantages that prevent women and men from otherwise operating on a level playing field. 

Equity leads to equality. Equity is simply ensuring that women reach the heights their male counterparts have reached just because they have a penis. Equity Is a means to an end.

Why are you trying to be fair only to come back and relegate the same people you are claiming fairness for? What is the point? To feel in charge? To feel in control? That you have the power to give and take?

Saying that because men and women are different, they cannot be treated equally is about the most ridiculous assumption I have heard. Equality between men and women does not mean that women and men have to become the same, but that their rights, responsibilities and opportunities will not depend on whether they were born male or female.

This may include equal treatment or treatment that is different but which is considered equivalent in terms of rights, benefits, obligations, and opportunities. Women have over time being denied basic human rights,  so to say they cannot have those rights because the men are going war and moving mountains is a bit of a reach.

There is this tone I perceived while reading what you sent, in some places you used "little rights" and you even went on to give an analogy about the proverbial rich man, taking from the poor as a metaphor for men oppressing women. lol... To use these types of analogies when referring to the injustices done to women is demeaning, it is also to ignorantly suggest that

1. women are a minority group which is false because statistics show that the population is 50/50. 

2. That we are the weak underprivileged folk looking for help or protection from men. And sorry to break it to you but there is more than male benevolence as the basis for a woman's well-being.

3. women are not saying save us, we are saying don't harm us. Don't domesticate us. We want equal access. Don't rape us, among other vile things.

And you keep saying fact lol. Fact is simply, in my opinion, information used as evidence. A widely accepted version of what people perceive to be their truth. That something is a fact does not mean it cannot be unjust. And for context in my house, I and my brother are treated differently largely because of the age difference, not gender.

You are talking about women tending to chickens while men went to war in society. Are you kidding me? Men have silenced women, took their power to vote, societally misconstrued them into believing they are made to pleasure men and when it is time for war, you want them to pick up a rifle. Humour me!

Plus do you know that even to this day women pass tests required to enter the navy and army and majority of them are denied simply because they have a vagina?

It's happening even to this day, now imagine the backlash women of the old would have received had they declared interest in going to war and even then, in the harsh conditions some of them still persevered.


Feminism


For context,  Women in World War I( this is just one instance out of many) were mobilized in unprecedented numbers on all sides. The vast majority of these women were drafted into the civilian workforce to replace conscripted men or work in greatly expanded munitions factories. Thousands served in the military in support roles, e.g. as nurses, but in Russia, some saw combat as well. Google their names by yourself.

Also, this is another argument I very much understand. Some Feminists argue that ‘women were not warriors’ their job was not to ‘bear arms’ but ‘bear armies.' Engaging in combat would undermine the argument that it was not only those who fought for their nation (men) who had a right to the ultimate gift of citizenship and right to vote.

Another proof that all men have is audacity. Did you hear about the Alabama Abortion ban? Most of the US state laws banning or severely restricting access to abortions have been voted on by male politicians. Do you realize how wild it is that this decision about an issue concerning women so intimately is being made almost entirely by men? 51% of women make up their population yet it's law makers are 85% male. Should men have the right to rule on an issue that impacts women so intimately? And this is just one example !!!!

And as for your camping experience of men being treated more harshly, that is a sad thing and one idea of feminism is to show that being emotional and vulnerable is not a sign of weakness and boys too should be allowed to show that side. "Be a man! be a man!" is the reason suicide rate is higher for men.

And you said you people camped under harsh conditions as boys and you people did not complain because you knew you have other privileges...my dear, that is not balance of power and it is sad that you will use the inconveniences men suffer on some occasions to compare to the injustices that have shaped women's existence over centuries.

It's ludicrous to me that men, never complain that they are oppressed or maltreated until women start talking about the injustices done to them.  I have not seen a men's right movement existing on its own for its own sake. Or to help and encourage men to be the best version of themselves. It is always done to belittle women's experiences or as a response to women's push back against injustice, a twisted, untrue and selfish kind of #metoo movement. If men only shout about their "issues" when women are expressing their grievances and disgust over the discrimination and injustices done to them then this goes to show that men are simply privileged and benefit more from society than women. And that in itself is sheer injustice.

Lastly, In the words of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. "Gender is not an easy conversation to have. It makes people uncomfortable, sometimes even irritable. Both men and women are resistant to talk about gender, or are quick to dismiss the problems of gender. Because thinking of changing the status quo is always uncomfortable.

Some people ask: "Why the word feminist? Why not just say you are a believer in human rights or something like that?" Because that would be dishonest. Feminism is, of course, part of human rights in general - but to choose to use the vague expression of human rights is to deny the specific and particular problem of gender. It would be a way of pretending that it was not women who have, for centuries, been excluded. It would be a way of denying that the problem of gender targets women. That the problem was not about being human, but specifically about being a female human. For centuries, the world divided human beings into two groups and then proceeded to exclude and oppress one group. It is only fair that the solution to the problem acknowledges that.
Some men feel threatened by the idea of feminism. This comes, I think, from the insecurity triggered by how boys are brought up, how their sense of self-worth is diminished if they are not "naturally" in charge as men." 



NB: I see this image circulating as a perfect explanation of gender equity over equality...well 

Gender equity

You see this image, please stop using it to justify your gender equity argument. This is simply a picture of a man and a child. Women are not children or small human beings that need male benevolence to thrive. They can stand tall or twice as tall. & yes I am interpreting this literally because with this photo you are saying women are weaklings who need help to see far. That's all I see in this photo when it is used in the context of gender. Maybe use it to explain poverty or economic margins or something else, just not gender. Cheers! 


Sunday, 11 October 2020

On protests: we are made for a different kind of revolution


I had this post written since the whole sars thing started but my thoughts were all over the place. I wanted to just forget about posting this but I am sure it is and will still be relevant considering the type of society we live in, plus I have friends who asked me to #justdoit.

I didn’t think that I will come back from my blogging hiatus with a post like this but here we are. The past few months have been clouded with gloom. We have moved from the black lives matter movement to seeking justice for women who have been continually raped and sexually assaulted, #justice for this #justice for that, and now it is police brutality. It is not as if racism or rape has stopped because it hasn’t. I don't think abuse of power and infringement of rights ever really stops here. 


Maybe it can be curbed to the barest minimum but it doesn't help that in Nigeria chaos, injustice and insurgency Is the order of the day. Right before we see to the end of one problem the system throws us even worse issues to manage by ourselves.

Nigerian youths protest
Photo by @buchwithlenses

I am not here to rant about the plethora of problems in Nigeria or the silent incompetence that is our government because time and time again they have proven to us that their pockets take precedence over the people and Abraham Lincoln was only speaking English when he defined democracy. We are clearly on our own.


It took the awareness and motivation on twitter to organize a protest and cater to youths who have been killed and assaulted repeatedly by officers who have no regard for humanity and the law. I see now more than ever the reason those old people in the corridors of power want to pass the social media bill. They cannot believe the backlash they are receiving.


I am most proud to identify as Nigerian because of the resilience of the people and the way we can break our backs in solidarity for something we believe in. They have successfully tried to shut down our voices in many ways including compromising the local media, some media outlets have a bias to the government, they don’t report anything until they are asked to and when they do, it is a creatively written sugar-coated headline that exempts the government from liability and paints them in a good light.


END SARS
Photo by @buchwithlenses

It is no news that our leaders are either waking up from sleep or claiming shock at the audacity and success of the protest; it is also hurting their impetus that they cannot control the streets of twitter. 


The special Anti-robbery squad (SARS) decided to use Nigerian Youth to practice BDSM, yes BDSM because there is no other way to rationalise the killing and arresting of Innocent people for dressing a certain way or carrying gadgets like laptops and iPhones. These people kill for pleasure. Dreadlocks, tattoos and piercings are a metaphor for shoot on sight for the power-drunk officers A.K.A SARS.

The protest is ongoing and women have proven that they are more than formidable by supporting and raising funds to end a system that predominantly affects men, maybe after this people who use indecent dressing to justify rape will receive sense. I want to say that I have grown a special type of fondness and respect for the likes of Fk Abudu, Rinu Oduala and Aisha Yesufu, their selfless contribution to the #EndSARS protest is both inspirational and commendable.

Aisha Yesufu

I want to speak to the attitude of people during protests. Sad as it is, we might still embark on more protests because our government have no regard for Due process. They don't hear until the people take to the streets.

In the fight for our voices to be heard, it is important to acknowledge that there are many ways to support a protest. The fact that you are not outside marching is not a crime or a mark of cowardice.  I have seen all sorts of call outs and insults on people who have chosen not to come out and march. I think we need to realize that not everybody was made for that type of revolution. Eg The end goal in the protest against police brutality is to #EndSARS and to do that all hands must be on deck, every voice matters. 


SARS ENDED
📷 @Tobijamescandids


I believe it is insensitive to be apathetic when there is civil unrest. Everybody has a role to play if we want to end the dangerous frolicking of SARS or any form of injustice in general but we will not make headway if some of us keep downplaying each other’s efforts. Some people think they are the next big thing after martin Luther king because they came out to protest. The fact that you risked being killed, raped or beaten to protest doesn’t make the average person who is unable to do so a subject of ridicule.


Stop police brutality
 @Tobijamescandids

We can all contribute by doing different things. If you are a writer write, if it's photos you can take, take it, if it's editing videos for awareness, do it. Don't let nobody make you feel bad for staying home (Kindly, remove some of your audio revolutionary celebrities from this classification) those ones have been shouting and pointing out all the cowardice and problems of the Nigerian people whilst selling themselves with our struggles, but when it is time to live up to their Audio Activism, shalaye!  I think it is safe to say that Fela is Fela and no matter how anybody burns or increases in tallness, that person can never measure up cheers. 


Photo by @buchwithlenses


Here are diverse ways to support a protest without  joining the march

This is what you should do

  1. DONATE: People are getting shot and arrested for no just cause, the protesters have to sleep on the floor, some of them have little or no food to eat and they need all the energy. Since we are learning that we need to rely on Twitter for serious updates, protesters need power banks and generators to charge their phones, Data too. You can Donate tents, food, blankets, footwear, change of clothes etc, it must not be money. Nothing is too small.

  1. CREATE AWARENESS:  Using #endsars as case study, most of our parents or the older generation are not very social media savvy and have no clue what is going on. You can engage your uncles and aunties in a conversation about Sars. Tell them about your experiences or the experiences of others, show them videos. Let them know that it could be anybody. You need to enlighten them, give them broadcasts messages to share on their Whatsapp. The media will not equip them with relevant information, I was watching the news with my dad and they showed the End Sarzs protest like it was a one-minute power point class presentation. So you need to speak up! While you at it, don’t forget to tweet, retweet and share information about it on all social media platforms. The #endsars became a global hashtag because of the passion we used to push it. Our leaders only respond to public embarrassment. You are not useless because you are not carrying a placard, you have a role to play.




  1. CREATE CONTENT / OFFER YOUR SERVICES:  Whatever you can create to help facilitate or help a protest or movement create it. Design placards for people, make skits, write poetry, create a blog post, write letters to brands and international agencies, sign petitions etc. If you know anyone who might be of help, please recommend. Eg a lawyer, an unbiased government official, a doctor. They system goes as far as arresting protesters and charging them for murder when the only thing they are trying to kill is a system that has continually buried all their  efforts to survive.  Be at alert! 


  1. Ready your PvC’s for the next election. You need to turn up o because Nigeria is on fire and our leaders are at the centre of it all expressing shock and looking for what to reform or micromanage to suit them.


  1. Pray. A good number of us agree prayer works, so do it. Ask divinity to set this country right. Let’s ask that no more lives would be lost, let's ask that conscience be redistributed because SARS and a number of corrupt organizations didn’t get enough when it was shared the first time.


Now here is what you will not do during any protest or match. 


  1. Turn #EndSars or any protest  into a gender war or call women out for not going out to march. Some women are being sexually assaulted there at the protest. Men are grabbing buts and groping breast instead of carrying placard. Not everyone can survive getting raped or beaten to a pulp

  1. Bring up conspiracy theories about the idea of protests; I have seen a couple of them on the internet. Instead of sounding like a frustrated psychologist just keep shut. 

  1. Don’t make anyone feel like a sinner for going out to protest or posting about it, my friend got a call to pull down her end sars post because according to the caller it was unchristian to post about injustice and oppression. Let's not say what Jesus did not say.

  1. Stay silent. If you are not outside, then do your part from the comfort of your home. Don’t just keep quiet. In Desmond Tutu’s voice, if you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.


Aisha Yesufu leads protect


PIN THIS 

End SARS






Tuesday, 8 September 2020

BODY LINGUA FEATURING JAMILLA OKUBO'S ART

Disclaimer: The poetry is not an attempt to explain the artwork. This will just be me writing whatever poetry came to me when I looked at the artwork.



Today we will be exploring the awesomeness that is Jamilla Okubo. I saw her Art on Pinterest and I was in absolute awe. Her art, in my opinion, is a raw and defined mix of Afro, colour and culture. Her painting calls you, mirrors your thoughts and leaves you wondering. It gives you a feel-good sense of adventure and wishes you into resonation. I want to say maybe it's just my eyes, but I know it's not. Jamilla is simply amazing.


Jamilla Okubo's Bio


Jamilla Okubo is a mixed-media and interdisciplinary artist exploring the intricacies of belonging to an American, Kenyan, and Trinidadian identity. Combining figurative painting, pattern/textile design, fashion, and storytelling, she celebrates the Black body in relation to movement, expression, ideology, and culture. Inspired by kanga cloth, which communicates messages derived from Swahili proverbs, quotes from the Qur’an, African folklore and popular culture, Okubo creates her own patterns in reference to the history, mythology, and vernacular of the African diaspora. 


A fusion of Jamilla Okubo's Artwork and my Poetry


Jamilla okubo



Body lingua


I soak my loneliness in wetness 

And it is unable to dry,

 I knock my knees together 

To silence the lips in between my legs.

I pretend not to understand its language 

When our bodies scrape past each other in the lobby.


Jamilla Okubo art


Last supper


Many hands to one bowl

That was my home,

Was how I knew that 

Boiling grain long enough 

Will let it swell into satisfaction.


Was how I knew eating meat was funeral,

Our mouths could not suck on marrows 

Or chew flesh

Unless God struck something dead

And left it decaying in the backyard.


Was how I knew my mother to be a starving woman 

Calculating & observing, 

Marinating the meal in her saliva 

Until my father swallowed his piece. 


Jamilla okubo x dior


The cycle


You will understand

Your mother's Night vigils, 

Her paranoia 

Her annoying dotting & scolding 

Her firmness

Her unsolicited advice & everything

When you watch your daughter

Becoming herself

By reliving episodes of your past mistakes. 


You will call her at your feet

With confusion & anger,

You will ask questions you already know the answers to

You will try to fix unfixable things 

Make calls to whatever is trying to

Turn your child into a bone of loss,

You, this same you 

Will take a page from your mother's book 

To close a chapter of your daughter's vacuum. 





This is us


Maybe we are a brainwashed generation

Maybe we have become too fizzy & unorthodox for regular reasoning

Maybe we are all the things they say we are

Crazy - rebel - doomed!

We have vomited status quo

Trampled conformity underfoot

Decided to live happy and free

On our own risky terms.


We have apologised to our parents

Forced them to bury their expectations

Because we would rather parent plants & cats

Than produce people who will inherit our problems

Maybe this is us

Wanting to relax and be taken care of

Wanting everything in the bag secure

Wanting the table, the seat and the whole room

If this is us

Is it really such a bad thing?



Let my body burn


I want the type 

Of love

that feels 

Like voodoo 

Something enchanting

that will make me fall 

Head over heels 

In touch with my emotions

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I want to be bent 

In positions 

that break my 

Bones into rainbows

Twist my nerves 

Into gummy bears 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I want the type of love 

that calls me home 

raises my moans 

Above pitches & 

Let's it go up like incense 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I want this love that 

Lights up my soul

With a match 

Of sensation 

And doesn't care if 

My body Burns 

In ecstasy

⠀⠀⠀

Did you know that Jamilla designed the book cover for An American Marriage  by Tayari Jones

An American marriage by Tayari jones

Read my review of the book here


What was your favourite poem/artwork from this post?

Friday, 4 September 2020

MEDICAL STUDENTS HAVE NO BUSINESS TREATING PATIENTS

My very painful experience with a Medical student


Medical student


I spent the better half of yesterday wondering if this was the perfect new month post but I have realized that if I don’t unpack my irritation I will be doing all of us a disservice. The later part of August was not good for me at all. A lot happened that has changed the trajectory of my life, maybe one day I will tell the full story, anyway, I fell ill and it wasn’t funny.


The only way I knew to heal fast was to take injections. Brethren, it went smooth for the first few days, there was this petite chocolate girl that knew indeed what she was doing. I had to take three injections on that day and two subsequently, she was tender, precise and before I had the chance to feel, she was done injecting me. Let me add that I prefer Injections to tablets, I mean, who has the wherewithal to be swallowing bitter and chemical-smelling tablets, plus injections work faster. 


My injection was for five days but disaster struck on the fourth day. I will dedicate a post to talk about my immense dislike for oversabi’s, the most annoying part about these brands of people is that most times they have little or no knowledge about what they are actually saying, they just exaggerate what they think they know.


I walked into this pharmacy and I didn’t see the angel that gave me my injections previously, I sat down to wait for her and I could not help but notice this loud-mouthed dark boy. They were talking about side effects at the pharmacy and I remember his only input ( which was the most deafening)  was ‘’Side effects are more harmful than the sickness itself’’ he said it over and over in exaggerated English. To be honest, I thought he was maybe the manager or something and he came occasionally because I never saw him all the while I was taking my medication.


My petite angel came and I was relieved. I was taken aback when she called me into the injection room and the loud guy was with her. I just guessed he was there to supervise. Before I could process everything he was with my hand ready to chuck me. Apparently, he was a Medical student and he was learning. I don’t know in what world I looked like a lab rat or when I grew the type of patience I exhibited that day but God knows. She told me to calm down that he will give me the injection and she will supervise him. 


Medical student reddit


Contrary to popular belief, I have visible veins, finding my veins was not an issue. This boy inserted the scalp vein into my hands, I am talking full-fledged needle and he missed the vein. I stayed calm, the brother tried again and missed it, at this point, I am convinced It was the patience of Job that had me sitting still in that pharmacy. Like a sheep for the slaughter, I offered my other hand for him to poke( yes I have a strong threshold for pain.) He was about to start his cluelessness when he was asked to change the needle as it was already blunt from too much piercing(how did he not know that.) This boy missed my veins two more times before I started shouting.


No, I don’t think you understand, Do you know what it means to insert a scalp vein into a living breathing humans hand four consecutive times to no avail? The surface of my palm had become swollen and hard, I was sweating profusely when my so-called angel told him to move aside. I want to not dislike her right now but she stood and watched as I was prosecuted by that incompetent boy or should I blame myself for sitting down on fire and calling it cool. When he saw my swollen hands, he too started sweating and instead of keeping quiet, he looked at me and said ‘’aunty you no dey do press up, it’s like you ate too much today’’


After using me to practice, he had the temerity to spew that vile? When I tell you the Holy Spirit now dwells in me, father lord! It took divine help to suppress the rush of anger that engulfed me. I didn’t say a word to him, I just looked at him and looked back at the girl. She just took the syringe, apologized, asked me if I needed a break, then she came back about 10 minutes later to give me the injections and as expected it was hitch-free.


Injections

I don’t know what the moral of this story is, but I do know you don’t get to body shame a patient or give advice especially when you are just a confused medical student and not a dietician.

Secondly, Medical students have no business treating patients, you can cry if you want but I have had bad student doctor episodes in the hospital/pharmacy more than twice to reach this conclusion.

They should just watch, learn and practice on cadaver or rabbits. Yes, I am upset. The experience I have had, range from misdiagnosis to unnecessary poking, so you might need to see the condition of my hand before trying to defend your kind. I do understand that it is not easy to be a medical student but it is also not a joke to be human. There are actual lives in your hands and I can imagine the pressure, so my advice is, if you are unsure do not go for it. Admit you are confused and let a professional do it.

If Students must treat or touch a patient then the doctor or pharmacist should be 101 per cent sure of the person. I took it lightly, another person might not.


Medical student cv

Have you had any hospital, chemist or pharmacy experience you would like to share? Let's chat in the comments.



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Welcome!to my creative space. I am Roseline Mgbodichinma, Law student & creative writer. I created this platform to share & explore stories, lifestyle, art, issues, and the beauty of language. I believe words formed the world and with words we can fix it too. I hope this bread eating Jollof beans lover keeps you glued to your screen.

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