an·ec·dote 3

Soon after I finished putting up a post about the fuel scarcity that made mention of black market fuel sales on the street, I left the library and luckily found a ride home with a house officer (medical intern). The coincidence of the timing, makes this story even the more hilarious. anecdote 3!

an·ec·dote 3: "THAT'S HOW WE DO BABY!!"

As I set out with the house officer to his car, he notes, his gas tank is on E (empty) but he knows where he can get some fuel. So we enter the car and head out into the streets, there is a gas station right opposite the hospital, so of course we saw the craziness of people hustling to buy fuel at the station. The house officer cockily says, "I don't have to do such." I gave him a look of "Oh ok, no need to impress here," and we sped off opposite the vicinity of fuel scarcity mania. A little less than 2 minutes later we get to a side street where a small crowd is gathered, many people are carrying jerricans. He excuses himself and hops out the car, he goes to his trunk and grabs his jerrican and disappears.

The house officer reappears maybe like 5 minutes later, and proceeds to open his gas tank. I had recently had a discussion with my friend, who says he doesn't mess with black market fuel, the most he can do is put it in his generator, he doesn't trust it in his car. As a result, I quickly shout to the house officer, "ARE YOU GOING TO PUT THAT IN YOUR CAR?!" he responds with a smug look, like "of course" and proceeds to pour the black market fuel into his gas tank. So I turned back around in my seat and waited for him to finish. He finally finishes up, hops back in the car and he exclaims "THAT'S HOW WE DO BABY!!" and before you know it we are back out on the road zipping through the streets.

Where I stay is no more than 3-4 miles from the hospital. While waiting at the light, the house officer's car starts to make a weird noise, sort of like a sputter. I ignore it at first, but then alarmingly look up at the house officer to get confirmation that the sounds the car is making is familiar to him. However, when I look up at his face, his facial expression, told a story of confusion. When the light turned green, and we moved the engine made a knocking sound, and the first thing that came to mind was BLACK MARKET FUEL!!! I wanted to say "boy I warned you about putting that mess in your car", but instead I remained quiet.

Maybe less than 24 feet from the turning into the estate I stay in, the car slows down to a complete stop. The house officer went from quiet to irrate and I did not know what to say or do, so I remained mute! In my mind I was thinking why couldn't this have happened AFTER I got home?! A little while after making a few phone calls to his mechanic, we sat in the car in complete silence, it was so awkward, so I decided to cut the tension and yelled "THAT'S HOW WE DO BABY!!" However, instead of my outburst serving as some comic relief, the house officer shot me a cold glare of annoyance. So I remained quiet until his mechanic came. I wanted to leave him behind and walk my butt home, but I waited to be nice.  We remained outside for another 2 hours, before the mechanic was able to do some magic and get the car moving again, the ride home was most definitely awkward!


I think that's the first and last time the house officer will be giving me a ride home, but it will also be last time he EVER puts black market fuel into his car tank. I never had the nerve to tell him "I told you so", so I will say it now: I TOLD YOU...THAT'S HOW WE DO BABY!! :-P

It is what it is!

SIDENOTE
The black market sellers are making a killing, fuel is sold for 97naira per liter, the house officer bought 3 liters of fuel for 1,500naira, making it 500naira per liter!!!!!

FUEL MATTER

Reporting live from Lagos! Nigeria is currently facing its first fuel scarcity of the year, and I am here to live through it YAY (sikeeee). The fear buying started early last week, however the actual shortage did not start until this past Thursday and it is still ongoing. It appears as though the fuel that has been purchased by various oil business people have failed to be released at respective sea-ports as a result, FUEL NO DEY for Nigeria. A variety of things have come about as a result of the fuel shortage, including:

•  PRICE INCREASES: my taxi fare has gone up 500naira!!! Even the keke-napeps (tricycles) have gone up 50-70naira! Costs of fruit (it is mango season by the way) etc.  the overall gist is, scarcity of fuel = higher prices. Transportation has been throwing my budget out of whack, so I’ve been taking more tricycles and taking more walks of life, it is what it is :-P 

• TRAFFIC OF LIFE: Due to the absurd number of people crowding up and cars lining up for fuel at gas stations, traffic of epic proportions have resulted. The traffic has gotten so bad that this past Saturday, it took me a whole 43 mins to move less than a mile.

• FIGHTING!!!: At some of these fueling stations there are many sights to behold. Dozens of people crowd around with there Jerri-cans (containers gas is stored in) to get a chance to purchase some gas. Some people wait for hours in the heat, understandably some people grow impatient and tempers flare, Jerri-cans are busted over fellow citizens heads, pushing and shoving and the like as people battle for their share of fuel.

•  ILLEGAL INCREMENTS OF GAS PRICES: Nigeria is an oil-producing nation, and like many other countries around the world who also produce oil, there is a subsidy on the price of fuel. It was increased to 97naira per liter two years ago. However during times of fuel scarcity some fueling stations will illegally increase the price and sell their gas for 110naira and upwards. Not to mention BLACK MARKET FUEL. Only God knows what is in it, a mix of water, antifreeze, and whatever else they can add to reduce the amount of actual fuel they sale to customers on the black market. 

Electricity/Power is not constant in Nigeria; as a result many citizens depend heavily on the expensive use of generators. In order to use generators you need fuel! So without fuel, and no constant power, the average Nigerian remains in the dark, without electricity in their house. I have grown accustom to adjusting to the situation, when there is power I make sure to: 

• charge my phone and laptop
• blast the A/C in my room (even if I'm cold, so that the room can remain cool after the power goes out) 
• after having my bath, I immediately fetch water for my next shower (Water is pumped with the use of electricity in Nigeria, as a result, when there is no power, you can’t get water to run from your tap. It can be the worst if you wake up in the morning and you have somewhere important to go, but you can’t take your bath, because there is no water because there is no electricity!)

Usually when the electricity goes out, in about 3-5 mins you will hear the buzzing of generators that have been turned on by various residents in the neighborhood, but recently due to the fuel scarcity, when the power goes out, silence remains because people have been unable to get fuel.

Living through my first Nigerian fuel scarcity hasn’t been terrible, in the sense that I am blessed to manage through the ordeal, however it has been a bit disheartening to see the extra strife many citizens have to go through in an already hectic city due to the fuel scarcity wahala (problems). Altogether it has been a sober reminder of how the quality of life in cities like Lagos is in need of much improvement for the average Nigerian.

It is what it is. 

ARMY FATIGUE FOR FUN?!

Today while heading to the hospital, I saw the craziest sight. There was a young man in a shirt and light blue boxers frog-jumping while holding his ears as a soldier looked on holding army fatigue shorts in one hand, and a koboko (A long flexible whip made of cow skin or horse tail) in the other hand shouting at the young man. 

A group of people had gathered to look on at the spectacle happening before us. When I got to the hospital I ran and told a doctor what I had saw, and she just started laughing hysterically.

The doctor informed me that the young man must’ve been wearing army fatigue and was clearly not a part of a military unit, as a result he was reprimanded by the army soldier. She then ended by saying “YOU DO NOT WEAR ARMY FATIGUE FOR FASHION PURPOSES IN THIS COUNTRY, THAT IS A NO GO AREA.” The first thing that came to my mind was my own army fatigue shorts that are neatly folded in my dresser at home. I made a mental note then and there to NEVER EVER wear those shorts out while in Nigeria.

Though Nigeria is no longer under military rule, it has been made very apparent to me that they still have some power and it must be recognized or one will have to face their day of reckoning. I’ve witnessed on two other separate occasions while riding in a car, people who have been parked my military men by either knowingly or unknowingly doing something that offended the military men while on the road (ie. Cutting off a soldier while driving, or not allowing a soldier pass them). They were then subjected to very embarrassing acts by the soldiers such as “dirty slaps” (slaps so hard you can hear a mile away :-p) to the face, being whipped with a koboko through their car windows and doors while begging for forgiveness!!!

After witnessing this last display, I have advice for anyone visiting Nigeria, DON’T annoy a military man or prepare for EMBARASSMENT, dirty slaps, and maybe even some frog jumping!

I was too much of a punk to get close to the scene and take a picture of the frog jumping individual in light blue boxers, so this pic from the web will have to do!

HE'S DEFINITELY 21!

While the doctors were on strike my friend and classmate from Drexel Med, Ruby informed me of an awesome opportunity allowing me to participate in a medical mission trip in Oyo State, Nigeria with LABAKCARE Organization. (I will put up a post about the trip later.)

Today while on the ward, I met an individual who was 22 years old but appeared to be 13 or 14 years old. This case reminded me of a particular case I saw while in Oyo state and decided to share it with you guys!

While volunteering in Oyo State, Ruby and I encountered a mother and her son that approached our station. When we asked the age of her child, she said he was 21 years old, we looked at each other and assumed she did not understand the question, as a result, we asked again in Yoruba. Once the young man spoke, with assertiveness I may add, we were most definitely certain he was truly 21 years old.

Below are pictures of the young man, and a picture of myself to have something to compare the height and development of the young man. (use the white arrow/red background as a height reference)

After discussion with the mother and the son, it was ascertained that the young man was a 

(has sickle cell disease. Though I’ve read that the disease can cause delays in growth, I was floored by how dramatic the underdevelopment could be.

Sickle cell disease is one hell of a disease, it can effect almost every organ of the body; heart, brain, lungs, muscles, etc. The complications occur as a result of the blockage of the small blood vessels and the breakdown of red blood cells.

In this particular case, delay in proper growth resulted, because his body was unable to get red blood cells, which normally provide the body with oxygen and nutrients needed for growth. As a result, the shortage of healthy red blood cells led to his slow growth.

SIDENOTE

After dispensing his medications to him, he left with his mother. However, a few minutes later he returned to ask me for my number. After which I noted to myself, “he’s definitely 21!” All this happened while his mother stood a distance away looking on assiduously HAHA!  I kindly declined and told him I’m too old for him :-p

This showed that his mind is fully developed even if his body is not! 

RESEARCH UPDATE

Happy New Year Everyone! I hope the year is starting off with a bang! Now, for a quick update on my research progress.

The end of December 2013 was full of surprises. First the ASUU strike (public universities strike) was called off after SIX long months, YAY!  

Then the doctors initiated a 5-day “WARNING STRIKE,” but thankfully it was called off after the five days.

After an eventful ending of the year, school sessions all over the nation have started, including the medical school associated with the hospital I am working out of. The once deserted medical campus and library are now full bustling with students. It’s a refreshing site to see medical students like myself! Nevertheless I digress, my research proposal has yet to be approved, but I am hoping by the end of January I will have received approval and will officially start my research project.

I am getting a bit nervous because time is flying by and before I know it, May will have arrived and it will be the end of my fellowship. Nevertheless, I am remaining positive and active.

Until then I will continue to attend sickle cell clinic and now that medical school is back in session, I will be rotating with the third year med students.

Hopefully the next time I write about my research it will be in full swing!

Take care.

PIQUED INTERESTS- GENOTYPING ERRORS

The strike was called off about 2 weeks ago now. whoop whoop! So everything has been happening so fast, I’ve been keeping busy with going to clinics while trying to complete all the paperwork that needs to be submitted for the approval of my research study.

Sickle cell disease and trait is very prevalent in Nigeria, thus my selection of the country to conduct my research. The country has made great pushes towards an initiative promoting the knowing of your genotype, as a result many people before they get married, test to decide whether or not they have the trait, the goal is to prevent or at least reduce the number of sickle cell disease births in the country. Knowing your genotype allows people to understand the risks and likelihood of having a child with the disease. Whether a couple decides to proceed with a relationship/marriage after they know they both have the trait is up to them, however armed with the information, they are able to plan for the best and worst case scenarios.

While at the sickle cell clinic I have noticed an alarming trend among some of the mothers that presented with their child. Incorrect genotyping! Out of the approximately forty patients seen thus far with Dr. Ojo in clinic, four people have said that they were tested as AA (you do not have sickle cell trait) earlier in their lifetime, and so it was a shock when they had their child present with sickle cell pain crisis. Four out of forty is a rate of 10%!!! A lab error rate of 10% is horrendous and unreal! A resounding theme among the four women was that the issue initially brought on marital problems, and accusations of infidelity.
It wasn’t until a lot of persuasion and counseling

their husbands agreed to do another genotyping exam along with the mothers and in some cases paternity tests. In these four cases after their genotypes were tested again, they were found to be AS (Sickle cell trait carriers). 

Due to this revelation, I have decided to somewhat change the focus of my research, because I believe this topic is an important story to tell. The hope is to shed light on the growing issue of lab error/genotype inaccuracy most notably in private hospitals, and hopefully propose solutions to this issue. This change in my research, will now prolong the already never ending paper work, but I think it’s well worth the hassle.

an·ec·dote 2

I have officially been in Nigeria for over a month now, it is the longest I have ever stayed in the country! It’s a major mark for me :-). While I’ve been here though, I am reminded more and more how “un-African” I am. However I am currently making a conscious effort to blend in better into the community. That brings me to anecdote 2!

an·ec·dote 2: See yo mouth jus formin’ phonay! You are not in London o!

Since I’ve been in Nigeria I have noticed a lot of people do not understand me when I talk. There have been several instances where I want to order something and they just look at me or shout, “WE NO HAVE AM” (For my non-pigeon English readers: WE DON’T HAVE IT). Funny enough if I have a friend nearby that is a native they will ask of the same item and they will magically get the server to bring out what they just said they didn’t have! I would think to myself, what kind of juju (voodoo) does my friend have to make them bring out what they just denied me????!!! What ever it was, I too wanted the juice (the it factor that made them do what they said)

It wasn’t until last week at the hospital that I found my own juice via a random encounter. I went to the small corner store located at the pediatric ward to buy a coke. When I get there, two older ladies meet me, and before I open my mouth, I remember, and tell myself “they don’t call it soda, Seyi, they call it mineral,” so I go to the lady and proudly ask for “mineral.” The face the lady made after I asked for the mineral was out of this world, her face was twisted up, then she replied “MINERULL? WHAT’S A MINERULL? U MEAN Mee-NAY-RAL!!! SEE YO MOUTH JUS FORMIN’ PHONAY, YOU ARE NOT IN LONDON O!” I proceeded to burst out laughing while thinking to myself "LONDON??? I've never been to London *side note-unless flight layovers count haha*." The old lady went on to explain, my phonay (phonetics) was not accepted here, and that I needed to talk like a Nigerian. LOL.

That following day, I was out in a mini market and wanted to buy bottled water, I initially forgot my “juice,” and simply asked for a “bottle of water,” the store attendant replied with a loud “henh???” I then remembered what the old lady told me the previous day, and then replied “BOTTLE WARTAAAAAAA,” the store attendant then smiled, walked away and returned with an ice-cold bottle of water. I calmly paid for the item and left, BUT inside I was screaming YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, I finally figured it out, I was so ecstatic I wanted to burst out into skelewu (a dance song)!

Funny enough, my time spent in Nigeria has shown me, that when in Rome (you all heard of the saying)…I was so scared of coming off as patronizing that I was missing the opportunity to assimilate into a culture that is welcoming and open. I was initially afraid to speak in accent, but through my many funny encounters, I am learning that Nigeria is open to me trying to speak in accent, so I should be open to it too, it’s not patronizing instead it’s showing my effort in absorbing the culture!