I feel like I should let you catch up on what’s up with me in a while.

Birthday

Yes, I turn a new age barely 24hrs ago. My new age – twenty-eight – is unreal. What do you mean I have been here for this long while? I can’t be this old. Nooo. That’s not me. I feel eighteen; okay, maybe eighteen is too extreme but I shouldn’t be more than twenty-two. My Grandmother called me yesterday and her first line of prayer was a good wife. I am literally in the phase of my life where my family is praying for a good wife for me. Damn! My twenties are two strikes from being over and I feel like a goat on its way to an abattoir called ‘marriage’.

I can’t remember much from my last birthday but I remember I spent a good part of that morning on my prayer mat where I was languaging my thoughts into prayers. I asked my Lord for the simple blessings and the joys of living. I wanted HIM to not only make me see a new age but the bliss of existence too. Yes, all my prayers got answered. Yes, I got everything I wanted.

I couldn’t leave my apartment since Monday evening when I got back from the hospital. It started mid clinic, by the way. It got worse later that night and I couldn’t sleep at all. I placed myself on medication the following morning with several bed rest. I missed the pharmacy induction I already made so much plans to attend. I am getting better by the way and should be able to resume academic activities next Monday.

This year’s birthday was quiet the way I wanted it. No unnecessary posts – I didn’t post at all about it on any of my social media pages. My family and friends called in, visited. I cooked a nice meal and streamed the induction. I worked – yes, capitalism is making me work – for a couple of hours and slept due to the drugs I was on. It wasn’t until the next day before I started responding to messages and other conversations. The beauty of quietude is the fact that you have a luxury of time to sit with your own thoughts, undisturbed.

Academics

I am now in my fifth year of medical school. Academically, the coursework ahead of me is Paediatrics, Obstetrics & Gynaecology. I’ll also do some clinical rotations in Pulmonology & Infectious Diseases, General Surgery, and Plastics Surgery. Academically, I am not scared. I think Year 5 will be an extremely soft year for me.

I survived Pathology, Pharmacology and Medical Microbiology; I definitely can survive anything this school throws at me. I will write a different piece detailing my 4th year properly. You can read the previous documentation of my 3rd year, 2nd year, and the period I almost dropped out.

I don’t think I’ll practice medicine in its traditional sense. The funds I initially saved up for USMLE, I had to use it to survive after the unfortune fire incident that left me empty. I do not like to think about it, but the event of that day and the several weeks that followed changed something in me. Something died in me that day but several other things regenerated.

People & Places

My university is currently under accreditation scrutiny and I have decided that should be one week of academic-free period for me. The next time I’ll be stepping foot into those hallowed halls, they’d be done with the whole process. I hope we retain the accreditation.

Eniola got me new glasses last month when my old one broke into irreparable pieces. Dr Chics connected me with an optician who charged me a fraction of what my university ophthalmology department was billing. Saved me a lot of money during that period and I ended up getting four pairs instead of one.

Asiwaju went to Yankari Game Reserve and I get to live vicariously through her. She went to Jos, visited Bauchi and several other fun places. This is my cue to go out more and visit places. I can’t believe I have spent five years in Sokoto and I don’t even know where the Sultan’s Palace is located. It is why I find it funny when people think I am an extrovert. I live most in my head.

Okikiola is trying new things and I am here cheering from the side-line. My friend is pivoting through multiple fields. He worked in academia, then oil & gas, and is currently in banking & finance. I like people who are not static, maybe because I see them as a mirror & I see myself in the people I surround myself with. I am here for all

Opeyemi is always complaining about medical schools and his relationship woes. I think the two of us will stay long on the bachelor’s list. What is that Yoruba proverb on something something that loves company. But I am in no doubt he’d make a name for himself in med school. My guy is just naturally gifted.

Febilola, Muneerah, Taofeeq, Ofime were my guys who inducted into the pharmacy profession yesterday. Febilola finished as BGS male and 2nd best overall graduating student with several prizes. Muneerah also finished with a First Class. Taofeeq & Ofime graduated with sterling results too.

To-Do List

I want to go out more this year. I want to enjoy the subtle pleasures of being outside. I’d decline less invitations this year.

I want to read more books. I read a lot less last year, especially since I lost my library. I need books.

I want to pass my Part 1 Final and my Lord will do that once again. I want to be USMLE-prepared by the time I’m done with this class.

I want to be a better friend. A better sibling. I want to be there for my people. I am a beneficiary of the goodwill of a thousand wonderful souls; I want the ability to reciprocate goodwill.

I want a stronger deen; I’ve always been tethered to my God. I want to be closer.

Cheers!

This debate union organizes several competitions amongst its members and within the university community. We have the inter-chamber, the intra-chamber, and the most anticipated Interfaculty Championship that is tagged UDC.

Two years ago, my faculty (CHS) produced the winners of the UDC 1.0 in 2023.

On the 1st of October 2024, I was crowned the Top 1 Best Debater and Debate Champion of the UDC 2.0 in my university. The competition was tagged Grand Odyssey. I and my wonderful debate partner, Joseph Rosemary, had debated 8 rounds of British Parliamentary debates before breaking into the grand finale. We had accumulated 21 points out of 24 with 135/200 team speaks. The second best team had 18 points and 128.8 team speaks.

I would later on the day of the grand finale be declared the Top 1, my teammate was the Top 2. In that same competition, my chamber’s head, Abubakar Muizzat, was awarded Most Inspiring Debater. My chamber produced the several top medallists, finalists, and winners in UDC 2.0

This year, the duty to train debaters and public speakers for UDC 3.0 fell on my laps. It didn’t help that I was rounding up my service as the Editor in Chief of UDUMSA or that the Vice Chancellor was sponsoring the event, hence, it was tagged VCDC. I started by scouting for talents across all the faculties and departments; I reached out to departmental presidents and friends and other well-meaning people within my university debating circuit. The head, deputy head, and some old members of my chamber would assist me on this task and we gathered more than 50 interested students.

Training began. Due to our academic schedules, we’d have no choice but to meet at ungodly hours to train. We had fun while doing it; we laughed and argued and bantered each other like our lives depended on it. Hippocrates Chamber is to compete in all three categories of the competition: debating, public speaking, and adjudication. A big eligibility criteria (those who broke to last year’s finals cannot compete in the same competition) took out two of our best debating candidates. Of course, Hippocrates chamber is not without excess talents, so we reshuffled and submitted our final participants list.

After five intense preliminary rounds that lasted for four days, a Grand Finale that took place on the 1st of September, 2025, I am pleased to tell you all how we performed.

In the debating category, we produced top debaters, and best teams. In the public speaking category, we emerged with several top public speakers. In the adjudication category, we had the 2nd Best Adjudicator. In the competition, all the top 15 debaters out of 40, top 10 public speakers out of 20, and top 3 adjudicators out of 7 received a medal.

In the grand finale of UDC 3.0, we produced the Debate Champion and 2nd Runner Up in the debate category. We also emerged as the 1st and 2nd Runner Up Public Speaking Champion, losing the Public Speaking Champion title by 1 point difference.

At the end of the day, the participants from my chamber (Hippocrates) went home with 1 of 2 trophies, 2 of 2 awards, and 14 out of 28 medals. Indeed, we had dominated the Vice Chancellor Debate Championship (VCDC).

I, Ololade Edun, would like to thank all the sponsors of my chamber: Toyin Abiodun Edun, Simeon Okikiola, Israel Winlade, Agunbiade Kehinde, Hassan Khadija, Umar Aliyu, and Abifarin Seyi Fadlullah. These are all people whom I reached out to on the eve of the grand finale and they all responded positively. These wins would not have been possible without your financial assistance, goodwill, and I am forever grateful for your kindness.

Behind the wins are hours of relentless physical training, strict adjudication, and virtual practice sessions. We enjoyed encouragements from far and near, best wishes from the several faculty leaders in UDUTH. The tireless efforts of the Head and Deputy Head of the Hippocrates Chamber: Abubakar Muizzat and Sebiotimo Abdullateef. The invaluable contributions of pro debaters and public speakers of the chamber in person of Abdulhakeem Fatima, Joseph Rosemary, Afeez Galadinma, Yahya Zakariya and Joseph Joshua (Empire J).

Indeed, success has many fathers and mothers, and we are grateful to them all. Beyond the prizes and medals and trophies, I am most proud of every debater and public speaker from UDUTH. You all are testaments to the fact that you can be in the healthcare sector, studying the most difficult courses in this university and still excel in extracurricular activities. Thank you all for being WINNERS!

HIPPOCRATES CHAMBER STATISTICS

- Champion, UDC 1.0

- Champion, UDC 2.0 (Grand Odyssey)

- Champion, UDC Inter-Chamber 2.0 (virtual)

- Champion, UDC Inter-Chamber 3.0

- Champion, UDC 3.0 (Vice Chancellor Debate Championship).

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

UDC 1.0

1. Debate Champion - CHS (Nuwaira Abdullahi + Abubakar Muizzah)

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨✨

UDC 2.0 (Grand Odyssey)

1. Debate Champion - CHS (Ololade Edun + Joseph Rosemary)

2. 2nd Runner Up (Debate) - AHS (Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Abdulhakeem Fatima)

3. 1st Runner Up (Public Speaking) - CHS (Yahaya Zakariya)

4. 2nd Runner Up (Public Speaking) - PHS (Fatima Aminu Pai)

Best Debate Teams

Top 1 – (CHS A: Ololade + Joseph Rosemary).

Top 4 – (AHS A: Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Abdulhakeem Fatima).

Top 5 – (PHS A: Precious Ugwuanyi + Emmanuel Triumph).

Top 9 – (CHS B: Safwan Shuaibu + Aliyu Ibrahim).

Best Debaters

Top 1 - Ololade Edun.

Top 2 - Joseph Rosemary.

Top 6 - Sebiotimo Abdullateef.

Top 9 - Emmanuel Triumph.

Best Public Speakers

Top 2 - Yahaya Zakariya.

Top 3 - Fatima Aminu Pai.

Top 4 - Abdulrahman Ibrahim.

Top 5 - Afeez Galadima.

Most Inspiring Debater - Abubakar Muizzat (Head of Hippocrates Chamber).

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨✨

UDC 3.0 (Vice Chancellor Debate Championship)

1. Debate Champion - MLS (Olurode Radiyah + Mukthar Anoze)

2. 2nd Runner Up (Debate) - PHS (Usman Aliyu + Emmanuel Triumph)

3. 1st Runner Up (Public Speaking) - AHS (Shuaib Fatima)

4. 2nd Runner Up (Public Speaking) - PHS (Fatima Aminu Pai)

5. 2nd Best Adjudicator

Best Debate Teams

Top 1 – (PHS B: Usman Aliyu + Emmanuel Triumph).

Top 2 – (MLS: Olurode Radiyah + Mukthar Anoze).

Top 6 – (CHS A: Bayero Sulaiman + Bello Abdulmalik).

Top 8 – (PHS A: Abdulhamid Hurain Onyisa + Oluwatoyin Ibrahim Ololade).

Top 10 – (AHS: Abdulrasaq Haneefat + Sulaiman Raheemat).

Top 11 – (CHS B: Aliyu Ibrahim + Abdullahi Y.F).

Best Debaters

Top 1 - Emmanuel Triumph.

Top 2 - Olurode Radiyah.

Top 4 - Mukthar Anoze.

Top 5 - Usmanu Aliyu.

Top 8 - Abdullahi Y.F.

Top 10 - Abdulhamid Hurain Onyisa.

Top 11 - Sulaiman Raheemat.

Top 15 - Bayero Sulaiman.

Best Public Speakers

Top 1 - MuhammadKabir Yusuf.

Top 3 - Shuaib Fatima.

Top 4 - Fatima Aminu Pai.

Top 6 - Udeh Favour Jane.

Top 9 - Yahaya Zakariya.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨✨

UDC Inter-Chamber 2.0 Virtual

1. Debate Champion - (Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Abdulhakeem Fatima)

Best Debate Team

Top 4 - (Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Abdulhakeem Fatima)

Best Speaker

Top 7 - (Sebiotimo Abdullateef)

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨✨

UDC Inter-Chamber 3.0

1. Debate Champion - (Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Nuwaira Abdullahi)

2. Best Speaker in the Grand Finale - Nuwaira Abdullahi

Best Team

Top 2 (Sebiotimo Abdullateef + Nuwaira Abdullahi)

Top 3 (Abdulhakeem Fateema + Joseph Rosemary)

Best Speakers

Top 4 - Abdulhakeem Fatima. Top 5 - Nuwaira Abdullahi

Adjudication

2nd Best Adjudicator (Ololade Edun)

3rd Best Adjudicator (Joseph Joshua - Empire J).

The big question is: what's next for Hipocrates Chamber?

Yesterday (September 07, 2025), I had two events to attend: a debate club dinner and a state association congress. My plan: I'd go to UDUTH, attend the congress then leave from UDUTH with the other dinner attendees. That was the plan; nothing grand or overly ambitious. The whole day itself wasn't memorable — I had been indoors from Friday evening till Sunday.

When it was 4:20PM, I started preparing to leave. I'd take my bath and do dress up in a new sweatshirt I won from Agbowo, a new shoe and all that. I checked the time again, it was 4:45PM. I was ready. I switched off my bulb, fan, laptop, and since I had not cooked since last night my gas or hotplate wasn't connected. I announced to my neighbours that I'm about to go out and they teased me for looking nice. I took a bike right from outside my compound to UDUTH. I got to school and it was already 4:55PM. It seemed too late to go to the congress since the dinner starts by 5PM and the other attendees were already in UDUTH waiting for me and two others. We decided to wait until 5:10PM and we would leave for the dinner venue.

At exactly 5:14PM, about to board Keke to the venue, I received a distress call from my next-door neighbour that the compound is on fire. It took a few seconds for my brain to comprehend because I thought it was a joke & since I did not leave anything that could catch fire unattended to. I took a motorbike and rushed back home. I got home less than 5 minutes later & the damage was catastrophic.

This is the architecture of the area: In my compound were 3 room and in the next one, 3 other rooms. All 6 rooms should be a single compound of rooms that are side-by-side in a single line but was divided by a fence. We shared the same roof and wall.

In Room A, B, C (which makes up my own compound), we were all medical students studying medicine, nursing, radiography and MLS. 5 students in 3 rooms as I was the only one without a roommate. In Room D, E, F (which makes up the other compound), it was different family homes with kids and working parents and housewives and all that.

The fire started from the adjoining compound, room D, specifically. Two theories: faulty electrical connections since we've had uninterrupted electricity for 5 days straight. The second theory, which is the most plausible and was confirmed, the kids of the family in room D were playing with their gas cooker and somehow fire started. I wasn't at home, I can't ascertain.

In room C which I lived alone, I was not at home. In room B, one of the occupants was asleep and the other was at the mosque 4 blocks away from our house. In room A, the two occupants were as home reading. They were the ones who heard the screams and noise from the other compound but they thought it was the regular one we were used to. Parents beating their kids and other kind of drama you'd expect in a compound of different Nigerian families. One of the guys in Room A came out saw the heavy smoke, called his roommate and were about to go to the other compound to help, when they saw that the fire had already engulf the roof from that side. The roof started burning from Room D to Room C to room B.

They quickly woke up the occupant of Room B who was sleeping and that one was only able to come out with a laptop at first, before he could run back into the fire to get other things, the smoke was too much. People who came to help were only successful in breaking my room (Room C) padlock before it became too dangerous to even enter the room

.

Nothing was saved from my room. Not a single pin. In the other rooms, nothing much survived too. As I got home, I wanted to enter but I saw the smoke and my limbic system shut down immediately. It was the thickest smoke I've ever seen and I just couldn't dare entwr into it. The roof burnt and everything in the room burnt within. Same in other rooms. It took hundreds of initial water rescue and 3 firefighters truck to quech the fire.

I am yet to document my loss. I don't even know where to start from. I don't think I can successfully name all my losses. In the midst of it all, I am grateful. I'm grateful for my medical students association, my state association, my classmates, the debate club members, my family and friends, my neighbours and people who live in this area. Indeed, we are our own best resources.

Despite not starting the fire, despite living cautiously, despite being a security conscious group of students living together, we suffered the most of the damages.

Since the unfortunate incident happened, people have been throbbing into the compound to help, encourage, and offer their condolences. The landlord was here last night to take stock. This morning I was the ruins to take stock too but there was literally nothing salvageble. Not a single piece of clothing or my credentials or my laptop of 5 years with 3 terabytes harddrives or the hundreds of books that I owned or any of my property.

I've accepted my fate. Something that if I had been home just 30 minutes later, I'd most likely have witnessed it start, and I may be sleeping too when it started. I'm going to focus on rebuilding from the scratch. Focus on my urology posting exams on Friday. Focus on recovering one step at a time. Amidst it all, I am grateful for the gift of life and that no human being was hurt or lives lost. That is the most important part. Being alive.

There is a fundraising being done on my behalf. If you'd love to donate 9063957289 (Opay). I need all the help I can get to survive this. I have been the type to publicly ask for help but this time, I need it and I'll accept all forms of donations.

Several weeks ago, AMS told me about his accomodation ordeals on a lighter note, and as expected, I told him how to go about it. Fast-forwarded to about three weeks ago, this same person told me that on his quest to getting accomodation, another classmate defrauded him. AMS explained the whole situation to me in details, showed me screenshots, and I understood his predicament.

Again, contrary to public opinion, I am not an activist. Activists die for a course - I can't; I like to call myself an advocate. This same fraudster has a long rap sheet of fraudulent activities, cold cases of shady deals he was involved in, and he is someone I am repulsed to. I have also clashed with him twice where I called out his fraudulent activities on the class group.

When we were in first year, this fraud dude scammed two persons close to me which I wasn't aware of untill our second year. It wasn't until one of them visited me in my apartment off campus that he told me about the scam. In that second year, Fraudie paid back one of them towards our exam period. At least, that I was absolutely aware of. The others were classmates and other students whom he played a fast one with and I wasn't aware until recently.

Back to the main story, when AMS told me about the issue, I was enraged. A part of me was angry with him for falling into Fraudie's traps. Another contrary opinion here: while most of the people involved would argue that my aversion for Fraudie made me not to listen to his own side on the story, hence, the reason I did what I did. The honest truth is that I wasn't after a vendetta, I was the vendetta.

That evening, I called Fraudie out on the class group, promised to have his picture and atrocities on the front page of the university newsletter which I am the Editor in chief. A couple of classmates joined in, including someone that he once scammed of his dollars. That one posted Fraudie's pictures and attached unprintable names to it. I encouraged AMS to report the issue to the Deputy Dean of Students Affairs. The Deputy Dean settled the issue, gave AMS a rightful allocation, and it was in that course I was privy to the other shenanigans that accompanies the process of getting an accomodation in an overcrowded school hostel.

Here are the facts of the matter: indeed, Fraudie pulled a fast one on AMS; Fraudie wasn't the only one involved; Fraudie was just the rag boys and his long list of scandalous activities really makes it hard for him to be clean. He is like a local dog, even when fed with bone meal, have a natural dispensation to get into the gutter and eat shit.

Two days later, Fraudie reported me to the university security for defamation. I went, wrote a statement, and the security officer said I should delete what I wrote about Fraudie. Here was where my OAU aluta spirit kicked in. First, I never lied about Fraudie; none of what I said or wrote about him was a lie. Everyone knows this. The hostel official who helped my friend secure a new space was at the meeting, and while I do not know what transpired between him and Fraudie, he was also adamant that I delete what I wrote about Fraudie.

For almost one hour, we were at it. I was threatened, the security officer said I wanted to escalate the whole issue and that my admission was at stake. They threatened, and made more threats while I did not bulge. Again, I told them that I am the Editor in Chief of the University Medical Students association, I come from a family of people who can talk our way out of the most difficult situations, and most importantly, I haven't done anything that would require I apologize or delete what I wrote. They called me stubborn, asked where I came from, wanted to know how much backings I have in this school — which, to be candid wasn't a lot.

I was firm on two things: I won't apologise to Fraudie because I haven't offended him; I won't delete what I wrote because it was the truth. When the impasses had gone on for a while and I wouldn’t be intimidated, the hostel official calmly narrated some things to me and at that point, if the matter went further, it won't be Fraudie I was fighting against but superior powers because, like I said above, he was just a rag boy and the big guns are who must not be named. He showed me messages and for the first time, I realized how messy the whole issue was and that these people were indeed, the most unscrupulous people to be involved with.

So, I told them that while I still won't delete what I posted, I would inform the public that this particular issue has been resolved and this particular fraud allegation is now false. The security officer and the hostel were okay with that. Fraudie wanted an open apology on the same group that I was called him out but he was told to manage with the offer on ground. I did write the announcement.

For the next three hours afterwards, all of Fraudie's friends in my class came for me. Here's the thing: if you are as experienced in debating as I am, then you must be used to a 1 vs 100 people intellectual battle. I decimated each one of them and how they wanted to whitewash Fraudie. None of them could make a coherent defense for him and their resolution was that they'd wait for when I'll slip up too and my vulnerability would be televised.

In the class, in groups, the issue was being discussed and I was shocked with some of the things my classmates said. Some people justified frauds; people blamed the victim who was defrauded as not being smart; one person clearly said he wouldn't speak up because Fraudie had been good to him in the past and they while he and Fraudie are no more tight people, he'd still not get involved in the issue. Again, I was presented with the shittiness of humans in public glare.

Two days later, when IM, another classmate saw me, he dragged me to a corner, sat me down and we spoke for nearly one hour. It was the most honest conversation I've had in weeks and that was what really necessitated this piece. IM made so much sense that for a second I never thought he’d have the capacity to engage me. I realized two things from our conversation: when I chase excellence, I can be overbearing; when I also commit to a cause, I do not know how to meter things. I was always operating from two extremes. Icarus' curse.

From my conversation with IM, I learnt that majority of my classmates already knew about Fraudie's ways but none of them had the boldness to call him out because they don't want to offend people. I learnt that Fraudie's cliques were unhappy with what I did, and that while none of them could walk up and confront me, they don't mind spreading salacious news about me and waiting for any misstep from me. I learnt that while it is necessary to speak up on issues, most often it is wiser to pick one's battles carefully. I wasn't the victim but I took the issue too personally that people who learnt secondhand and third-hand versions of the story knew my name more than they knew who was potentially defrauded. Again, talk about operating from extremes.

That day, I re-evaluated my parts in the issue. Why was my part the only one people remembered? Why were there people in my DMs telling me about what Fraudie did to them but they were silent in public? Why was I being threatened? Why did the security official clearly say that I should forget about Fraudie's previous crimes and that I shouldn't have called him out publicly on this issue. Why were people I thought were upstanding defending a criminal publicly? Why was I involved in the first place? Why are humans this terrible, selfish, and most noticeably pretentious cowards?

PS: Fraudie's name is Abdullahi. I only replaced it with Fraudie because it is actually one of the most beautiful Islamic names and I don't want to soil it.

I resumed back to school after an incredibly short break. For someone who had not gone home for the last three years, I told myself I’d spend nothing less than eight weeks with my family and friends. Hmm, I only spent two weeks. The surgery posting list and schedule were released a week into the 3-week break and once my family learnt about my resumption, they were the ones literally dragging my bag back to the bus stop. My Grandpa’s reason was “he can’t be paying tuition with others learning and I at home sleeping”. My Grandma wanted me to stay longer but she finally agreed with my Grandpa and was literally in tears when I was about to leave again. “To ba ma padawa sinu ile yii, oti ma di doctor. Won o kuku ni fi’oku e ranse si mi. Alaye lo fi sile n’ile, alaye naa lo ma pada wa ba”. I hate goodbyes, I seriously do. Nonetheless, guess who is back to school doing real doctor stuff?

A senior colleague once told me that there are distinct days a medical student is extremely happy: the day he gains admission to study medicine – finally, the dream is coming to life; the day he resumes into the university – c’mon everyone is happy on this day; the first day of preclinicals – the euphoria of being done with pre-med, wearing labcoats and cutting into dead bodies and studying big textbooks; the first day of clinicals – the joy of finally seeing real patients and getting into theatres and patient’s family calling you doctors and actually diagnosing conditions; the day you see the result of your last exam as a medical student – well, this one is self-explanatory.

Dec 9, 2024.

The schedule says class starts by 8AM till 9:30AM. Then rounds starts. The time is 7:40AM and I am yet to take my bath. In all fairness, this one is not my fault. I got to Sokoto around 7PM on Sunday and I was too exhausted to prepare for the next day. I woke up late, took a hurried cold bath despite the harmattan, and just threw any cloth I could find on. I couldn’t find one of my new beanies so I wore an old one. I couldn’t find my ties and the shoe I liked was unpolished. Basically, again, I looked like someone thrown into clothes and dragged to the hospital.

The class was an introductory one. Sweet and nice. I like the consultant who took it. He looked so young, accomplished, so “I am not the kind of teacher who’d stress you” like. Later on, I learnt he is the head of his unit and I just knew it – this is the kind of doctor I’d want to be if at all I practice. To make things nice, I found out it was his unit I was posted to. Hmm, is that a sign from heavens?

I got to cardiothoracic surgery unit for rounds and we met another consultant who is also very nice. Haa. They are really breeding all the good ones in cardio. I was selected as the unit rep. the conso talked about dress code and he gave us the rundowns of dos and don’ts. Our classes were from Mon – Sat but rounds were daily. What that meant is that I’d be spending literally every day of my life for the next few years inside the hospital.

Mondays were consultant rounds in which the conso lead everyone as we go check up on all the patients, assess their treatments, and other conso stuff. Tuesdays were clinic days so we only stayed in the clinic to see outpatients – these are people whose conditions don’t need immediate admission into the hospital such as patients that have been treated before or new patients. Wednesdays were general rounds. Thursdays were theatre days which is the only day we get to cut except if it is an emergency surgery which can happen on any day. Fridays were senior registrar rounds. Saturdays were registrar rounds. Sundays were house officer rounds.

I like rounds. I get to learn a lot during rounds. On Monday alone, I saw 9 cases. A 30-day old baby with necrotizing fasciitis in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). The condition was caused by a group of flesh-eating bacteria and depending on the location and severity, it is a fatal condition. To think that babies do not have strong immune system in the first place, it was a long shot to recovery. I saw patients with gunshot wounds (GSW) admitted to the trauma center, an old man presented with Beck’s triad. Another with empyema thoracis, a young lady with lung cancer, two babies with pleural effusion, an adolescent with difficulty in swallowing.

Dec 10, 2024

Clinic day. Nothing spectacular happened. There were about 27 outpatients that day but because they were not new cases, it was a bit difficult to catch up. The consultant looks at new scans or requests for one; titrate their medication; offer advice and dictate notes for the house officer. He also asks the medical students random questions but mostly about the case on ground. For example when a young mother brought her son for check-up, the consultant after attending to her asked the students about fetal circulation. It turned out the young boy had Tetralogy of Fallot.

Dec 12, 2024

First surgery. It was a vascular exploration and repair on a popliteal aneurysm. Like all exploratory surgeries, it was a case of wandering into the unknown. One thing I love about Cardiothoracic surgery is that we have our own complete suite. Everything related to cardio is within a particular building so we don’t have to be running from pillar to post. The ICU, the theatres, cath lab, cardio ward, anything you could think of are all there.

I got to the suite around 10AM, the surgery did not start until 11AM. We met the chief anaesthesiologist who is a professor. One of our consultants and senior registrars were the surgeons. There were two other anaesthesiologists in the room of different ranks. Two registrars, a scrub nurse, perioperative nurse, and a circulator nurse were around. Then the house officer and the medical students too.

The first hour of the surgery was very scary because the patient was losing blood. Despite the impeccable composure of the surgeons, everyone in the room knew something was going on. Despite the air conditioning, the surgeons and those surrounding the surgical site were sweating buckets. I watched with my heart in my mouth. Of course, transfusion started and within the first two hours, the patient had taken four bags. I was told to call the house officer to bring four more bags and a cross match from the hospital blood bank.

After the first three hours, it pretty much seems like everything was under control. One of the anaesthesiologists started talking to the students, giving us lessons on surgery and telling us what each equipment does. He told us how they keep the patient sedated and asleep, how to clerk patient for surgery, textbook recommendations, monitoring vital signs, etc. the patient was a GSW victim who encountered bandits a couple of weeks prior in Zamfara state and was shot in the back of knee. This was not the first surgery as the bullet had been removed at a general hospital. He was admitted on account of his presenting complaints post initial surgery, a classmate clerked the patient a day prior to his surgery here.

When it was almost 5PM, we were allowed to leave the theatre. The surgery most likely extended for another one hour or so because they were almost rounding up when we left.

Dec 14, 2024

As the unit rep, it was my duty to assign patients to all my classmates in the unit which I did. I did a short clerking a day before which I completed on this day. It was an interactive session between the patient and I. he told me a lot, which I noted then used to form my summary. I presented my clerking on Monday to the consultants.

I attended a presentation a day earlier after the rounds and the senior registrar was kind enough and taught well. Within the weeks I spent in Cardio, I witnessed a couple of surgeries – a PDA ligation on a 14 month old baby, three gunshot-related surgeries, an artero-venous fistula repair, a gastric pull up, a couple of chest tube insertions and removals, and the one I described above.

Apart from the surgeries, I loved that cardiothoracic surgeries were broad, the surgeons were extremely good at their job of operating and teaching, and the whole unit just had this “soft-life” aura. When my classmates in other units complain of slight maltreatments like having to stand all through during clinic days, we in cardio used to sit down. We in cardio were allowed to assist in surgeries, those in other units were not even allowed close to the surgical field. Our conso gave us the permission to leave once it is 1PM even if the rounds are not over, in other unit they stayed until the end.

I loved it in cardio. The doctors were super nice and encouraging; they do not punish students; even when they told us to read up on something and not everyone did, they did not berate us unfairly. Yes, surgery posting was exhausting but damn, I enjoyed every part of it.

If there is one thing I learnt from 2024, it is that both the good and bad will happen, but I’ll still be here. A new day will come and I will rise. In fact, all my biggest fears will come to life and wallahi, I will still be kicking because I do not know how to go down without a damn fight.

2024 SUMMARY

On the first day of this year, I told God I’ll be writing two career-defining examinations and that it’ll mean a lot to me if I pass without any hitch. That was my biggest goal this year and indeed, my lord surprised me in a lot of ways. I survived a freak accident in February and my phone theft in December. Passed my exams in March and October this year. My Grandma’s surgery was successful. I was a panellist for Sokoto Books & Arts Festival. I am currently the Best Speaker (Debate Category) in my university and my debate streak remains undefeated from OAU days.

I did a lot this year. From being an integral part of running my med school association to politics and NiMSA; to solidifying my interests in research and earning certifications; to extracurricular and writing and relationships. As I write this, my Baja’s Principles of Surgery is partly opened and I am always running back to my Norman Browse. I have a patient to clerk and a presentation to make on today. I am listening to TML Vibez’s Trending and my belly is full of happiness. Indeed, I am grateful for the gift of family, friends, and an invaluable support system.

SCHOOL

I finally understood medical school to a great extent this year. In 2023, I was contemplating on dropping out because it just did not make sense to me how and why becoming a doctor was this herculean. This year, I entered my avatar state twice and I told everyone I belonged here; and that nothing save from death would take me out of here without my degree.

I wrote about my medical education a couple of times on my substack. I wrote about not dropping out; my first year, second year, third year, and my med school association. I wrote a lot because I fear I’d forget and I want to read these things many years from now and chuckle. Relationship post like this, caveats like this, and on trending topics like this.

My results were impressive and expectant for me. My academic cheat code is: aim for distinction even if you are a pass candidate, you might not get the distinction but you’ll finish with credits and you'll be proud like I am. I mean, with all I did aside academics, I do not kid myself when I say that I’d rather be an all-round credit student than focus only on being a distinction student and sacrifice everything else.

My academics are sometimes fine, sometimes in perilous danger, and at times excellent. I do not have a stable academic lifestyle and I am currently working on it. I am now in one of the top classes on campus. There is this huge divide between preclinical and clinical at my med school, and yeah, I made it to the senior side this year. Yes, I am not a shitty clinical student and I don’t pick on my juniors. Yes, I like clinicals because I can now further deal with bullies and miserable seniors.

I need to become a doctor because people are waiting for me to get that degree.

My relationship with my classmates has gotten better. I treat everyone decently and I am on good terms with everyone. I try not to be too involved in class activities like I did in previous years. Now, I am more interested in knowing my stuff, passing, and moving on. I don’t engage with the shenanigans in class groups, I am way quieter, and I do not give two fucks anymore. If the class is burning. I’d pack my stuff and leave.

I was nominated for the Most Popular award which was surprising because I never considered myself a popular jingo. I was voted third out of six candidates across all levels. I was also the only then preclinical student in that category. Now, I walk around campus and people I don’t know really know my name and extends warm regards to me.

I was part of the local organizing committee for this year’s healthweek and it was by far the best in several years. Senior colleagues attested to this. We had our first Tradefair on campus; the dinner was so lit that we had people asking if we’d plan the next one too; we had a wonderful planning committee hangout days later and I enjoyed myself.

MENTAL & PHYSICAL HEALTH

Well, my mental resolve has strengthened this year. I do not spiral into chaos like before. I am calmer with handling things. I have realised that panic and rush will never solve my problems. Also, this firm resolve is why I can go into hibernation for days, clear my headspace, make realistic plans and stick to them.

My impostor syndrome is barely noticeable, I get less anxious, and I do not feel threatened academically like before. I still use my words of affirmation and mantras, quick meditation, read and binge watch things that make me feel okay like finishing 101 episodes of Boston Legal in three weeks.

Physically, I am in good shape. I used to do weekly exercises on the weekend with a couple of my classmates. Right now, well, the shege I am seeing is enough exercise. I have maintained a fairly decent weight; my eyesight hasn’t deteriorated; I do not have any chronic illness at the moment; I have not fallen sick and required medication since the beginning of this year. Save for my accident, I have been hospitalized only once this year which was when I collapsed weeks to my MB due to stress.

WRITING

I wrote a lot this year but I lost most of my works when my phone got stolen in the middle of December. I was too devastated to cry throughout that week. As I write this, the pain is still as fresh as if it happened yesterday. I lost more than 40 poems, about 7 completed short stories, and several WIPs. I should have published these pieces but I told myself that I am in charge of my own works and I wasn’t hungry about publishing every damn thing I write. So, once in a while, I share random excerpts and stuff on my WhatsApp status and move on. I do have a couple of works awaiting publication come 2025. I wrote more poetry than stories this year, I met other writers too. In 2023, I was shy and turned down most of the writer’s hangout invite I got. This year, I was going out and meeting people and having spirited conversation and just living.

I now have writer’s merchandise and I am not afraid to tell people that I write. My Agbowo sweatshirt and the tote bag Aarionla made for me were my highlights. I attended a workshop and book chat with Umar Abubakar Sidi to close off my literary exploits for the year. Last year, it was Abubakar Adam Ibrahim sitting where Sidi sat. Sokoto Books and Arts Foundation hosted me as a Panelist for this year’s SOBAFest where I talked about writing and books and literary criticism in company of other wonderful panellist like Great Kay and the Enokelas. Oh, I met fans and people whom I’ve always wanted to meet.

I focused more on my substack and steadily I am growing my readership over there. I did less of copywriting this year. The only reason I still get job referrals is because I'm good at what I do. 2025, I'll try to go from freelance copywriting to corporate copywriting. I need me some stability.

PEOPLE & RELATIONSHIP

I do not want to talk about this because I feel like I’ll be too vulnerable. There was a tweet I once saw that read “how much can your circle raise in 24hrs” and somebody replied with “alarm. My circle can raise alarm like mad”. My own circle can raise money, can raise moral and physical support. My own circle literally carried me all through the year. I am not joking when I say I had people who stood by me during my thickest and thinnest.

This year, maybe because I said it’ll be the one I make myself available for my people… omo people used me like mad o. Asiwaju is the only one who’d understand the most because I cry to her every damn time. I cut so many people off in 2024 that at a point I felt I was the toxic one but I quickly realized that I cannot keep pouring if my cup is empty. While I tried to be there for everyone, I prioritized myself and my circle and it really paid off.

I now relate with more people than I did in 2023. I talk to more people in college than I did last year. Just small talk. My circle of friends in the university is still pretty much the same. I also get along with more people now. I think I have stopped having expectations and take people as they present themselves. Expectations usually lead to disappointment.

I connected with a lot of new people this year. I am in a unique relationship with Aarinola and if all things go well, you people will collect wedding invitation before next year ends. You people should sha keep me in your prayers so that I have money and do big wedding party.

BOOKS

I read the least this year. I read 60 books in 2022 and 47 in 2023 which was my lowest. This year, I struggled to read 40. Most of my book recs came from Nigerian Bookworms, Joey, and Aarinola. I tried a couple of non-fiction this year and surprisingly, they were good. Like seriously goooddd. Nevertheless, I’m still a fiction and poetry guy. My favorite poetry book this year is Zaynab Iliyasu Bobi’s Cadaver of Red Roses. For fiction is Elnathan John’s Born on a Tuesday. For non-fiction, I’ll give it to Richard Koch’s The 80/20 Principle. Adam Kay’s This Is Going To Hurt is my favorite medical literature for this year.

Please read Agbowo, Lolwe, The Shallow Tales Review, Isele, doek, and the tens of other vibrant literary houses in Africa. I do not have a list of book recommendations to share but I am preaching the gospel of reading publications. This year, I immersed myself in Adda, Caine prize, and hours on the internet reading interviews and literary conversations.

FRIENDSHIP

My biggest issue this year so far is friendship. I had a fallout with people I thought we were on the mend towards becoming better. And there is potentially another one about to reach its ruins. I am not a perfect human being, but I deal well with people.

I know how to be a friend. I know how to maintain friendships, so why is this year looking like the year I’d have my largest fallouts? The first one, he was a negative influence on my academics; the second one, we did not have enough time to tender to the friendship and the thing died; the third one is just a shitty person I should never have considered a friend in the first place; These were physical friendships, people I had at one point considered my top gees.

Asiwaju used to tell me that not all friendships are meant to be forever. You are bound to lose people along the way and meet newer ones. Friendships, like everything, have expiry dates, and I should not feel bad if they come sooner than I wanted.

But I introspect. I like to figure things out; I like to think a lot and agonize too. I have spent crazy hours thinking about these people, why we fell apart, and whether I’d want to get back with them. However, the conclusion has been fairly consistent. There are no current scenarios that’d make me remain their person.

I really do not need them to survive as I have been consistently better since we parted ways. There is this tweet I saw that said “There is a way someone would treat you with disregard that if you still continue to talk to them, then you are a big fool”. Another tweet said, “If I treated you way less than you deserve and you accept it, then maybe that is exactly what you deserve”.

I know. I know. It looks like I went fishing for tweets to support my stance. Anyone who knows me physically knows I am a sucker for friendships. I like and crave and try to curate everlasting friendships. I know all of my Grandma and Grandpa’s top friends and they have been together for over 30 to 40 years. Those were the people I grew up with. My oldest friendship is with the twins I met at the beginning of JSS1 seventeen years ago and we are still together.

I want all my friends to treat me exactly how I treat them. I want them to prioritize me the way I prioritize them. I want them to be there for me, be open with me, laugh, cry, banter, and most importantly grow with me. I have people that fit this category, and I have others that are trying. I am also trying in my own ways to be the kind of person I want others to be to me too.

Anyway, here is my conclusion regarding this. I am not a lone tree in a forest. I have genuine friends so I’d work harder to better our friendships that are currently working. I am done nursing residual feelings and agonizing over things that did not work out. I will stop going miles for people who would not think I deserve a meter. All in all, I will continue to grow, evolve, and strive to be a better person.

FINANCES

Well, this is the Tinubu economy and things are not too pretty in the county. My finances are not as solid as in previous years. However, I am very grateful for the little I have and I have been managing it well. I have cut back on food, transport, social media, and utilities. Before, I used to take 40K to the market and stocked up enough foodstuff to last for a month or more. In fact, I only go to the market once a month. I have a seller I patronize and she treats me very well. Now, I spend around 70K and still eat just once or twice per day.

I used to have a cravings & transportation budget of 20K which is now 10K monthly. I don’t even have cravings again – Sokoto suya is unhygienic, yoghurt & eating outside aren’t really my thing sef, and I am surviving without drinks because water is best. I also fly bike less and trek more. Walking is a form of exercise and unless I am late or too lazy to walk, I don’t consider taking bike on my way back from school. I now eat more fruits than junk. Hashtag healthy living is goal.

I throw tantrums any month I have to spend more than 10K on data, and I do not do subscriptions again. What was I thinking that “streaming” was for me? I can't afford to be offline because, in this school, you can be offline for two days which is enough time for your classmates to have written two tests, done ten practicals, and moved three classes ahead of you. In fact, one of my pinned WhatsApp groups is my class's official page. In this school, if you snooze, you will lose big time.

Nevertheless, I am grateful I was never hungry this year; there was always food at home and money to still satisfy small small cravings. I cooked a lot this year, I did not try newer dishes sha. Bill wise, people came through for me at my direst hours and I'm forever grateful for that.

Like in 2023, I was able to save more by spending less and buying in bulk. I did not invest anything o — na person whey don chop dey invest. Food still took the largest chunk of my spendings, then books, housing, my regular bills, and transportation.

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Where do I even start from? Anyway, here are a couple of highlights;

I am: the Editor in chief of my medical school student association and was a deputy last year; Research Assistant and former Local Officer for UDUMSA with the NiMSA’ Technical Office on Cancer Awareness and Advocacy; Local officer for UDUMSA with the NiMSA’ Technical Office on Mental Health Advocacy; Member, Research & Innovation Committee with UDUS-SOHIC (Student One Health Innovation Club); Member, Youth Coalition against Cancer (YOCAC).

Member, UDUMSA Standing Committee on Medical Education & Health (SCOMEH); Team Lead (General Knowledge), UDUMSA Quiz Club; Deputy Head, UDUMSA Debate & Literary Club; Head of cohort & Member of Peer-review team, UDUMSA Research Club; Core Member, UDUMSA Healthweek 2024 Planning Committee.

I won UDUS Debate Club Oratory Odyssey Grand Debate 2.0 as the Top 1 Best Speaker (Debate Category) and Best Team in the British parliamentary debate style. I am the Grand Winner of the Digest Inter-faculty Debate Competition 2024. I was a panellist for the Sokoto Books & Arts Festival 2024. Best Planning Team, UDUMSA Healthweek 2024.

I attended two conferences and a summit this year. I co-organized three physical outreaches on cancer awareness and created content for all the cancer awareness in my medical school. I directed more than five health awareness videos for both NiMSA TOCAA, TONINCD, and SCOPH. I lost count on the number of webinars I attended this year.

I earned the following certifications: Advocacy for Cervical Cancer Elimination from the Union for International Cancer Control (UICC); C4P-HPV Tool (cervical cancer prevention & control costing tool) from World Health Organization via their Health Emergencies programme; two certificates from NiMSA TOCAA, one from NiMSA TOMHA, UDUMSA SCOPUB and SCOSA respectively.

2025 PROSPECTUS

I will say what will happen in 2025 with certainty: everything good will come. I am sure 2025 will be better than 2024. I will not go in with a humongous to-do list, but I will do a whole lot. I have world-breaking and personal record-shattering achievements in mind as much as I do wish for is the little joys and sometimes filtered-out happiness that comes with living.

I want 2025 to be a year of thanksgiving and love and growth and locking in. I want the days to be simple, sweet, I want my next year to be incredibly soft irrespective of what anybody thinks. I do not have a medical board exam to write next year, nonetheless I will pass every exam I sit for. I'll write fearlessly and unhinged. I'll make more money. I'll be there for my people. I'll do everything I want to do and yes, nothing will be sacrificed because my Lord will never abandon me.

In 2025, I'll continue to be HIM.

Hello, my name is Josef Apaokagi Oluwaloseyi Olorungbemidebe Otaobayomisugbonoluwaleke. I am a fifth year medical student in one university in Nigeria, and I have decided to tell you things I think you should know about preclinicals in med school.

This is not a scare post. I did not write this because I want to put fear in anybody’s mind, especially if you are just coming into med school. This piece is just a compilation of things people do not really talk about regarding medical education in Nigeria.

This post is about the things I wish someone told me before I started. While, I obviously wouldn’t have lived through preclinicals thinking this is the norms, I wouldn’t have been too disappointed or depressed when they started playing out. I would have just sucked it up and adult through better.

11 Notes on surviving:

0. MBBS 101:

First thing you need to know is that hardwork does not equal success in medical school. This will become clearer like day as you proceed.

1. Medical school is a jungle and the carnivores don’t mind eating anyone.

In this place, you must quickly find your feet and be focused. You have to ignore the noises and every “you don’t belong here” thought. Trust me, at some point things will make you doubt yourself, but you must soldier through. You should not take too much time to identify those that would be assets or liabilities.

2. Time is never enough.

Your tests and exams won’t come like a thief in the night; they would come like Kano trailers transporting onions to Lagos – loud, scary, and wouldn’t mind crushing anybody. The curriculum is structured in such a way that the management does not expect you to have the luxury of time. So every day must count. You have to make every day count. You have to ensure that you're accumulating small, significant, or big progresses every damn day. You have to take the tests as serious as the exams – the cheat is to accumulate as much marks as possible in the CA, because the truth is crazy things happen during exam period. I won't say more than that. May you not have reasons to go to the bathroom and cry hot tears hours to exam like me.

3. You have to quickly discern how to survive in medical school.

I'll suggest you briefly study your classmates and know how best to deal with everyone. Which of your classmates willingly will share updates or vital information? Which ones would rather die than tell others things they know would help the class pass? Which ones will go extents to bring confusion and disruption when they see that the class is making progress as a whole? Which ones are the real scholars and which ones cheat their ways into impressive results? Which ones have access and which ones are asslickers? When Ayra Starr said “animals dey in human form”, what she forgot to add is that it is in medical school you'll meet them. Now that I've told you, don't forget it.

4. You need a support system.

You can't do med school as a lone wolf. It may be possible but it's extremely herculean. You can't survive as an alien. You have to find your own people/person and stick to them. This is because this place will test you academically, emotionally, physically, mentally, financially, and in a thousand other ways. To survive, you need people/person willing to share your baggages with you. And they have to be people you're willing to share theirs too. You need a support system that is comprising of people who offer you help in diverse ways. A support system could be two classmates you know will always let you in on things going on in class; two senior colleagues who are always willing to help out in any way; family member who you can always share your wins and losses with; friends from home who are always praying for you; a resident doctor who is always percussing you until you resonate louder than a clear lung. You need people. I won’t say this twice.

5. You need to quickly recognise that privilege exists in medical school and everyone would use it best to their own success.

When you learn, which is most likely after the exam, that X, Y, Z got to know about a particular question before y'all even entered the hall, you won't be too pissed. When you see people who obviously did not study as hard as you make better grades than you did, you won't doubt or hate yourself; wallahi, you will just laugh and move on. When you learn about sex & cash for grades, you really won't be bothered because you have none to give. When you hear about some inappropriate relations between your classmates and some lecturers, it won't bedazzle you. When your classmate do some things that are not only crazy but dumb like leaking your class WhatsApp group chats to lecturers, I swear it won't pain you. When you don't have access to some vital information simply because you did not belong, I swear you will open your Guyton and read like you life depended on it. Privilege will always exist and because you don't have one, you should not be discouraged. Rather it should push you to study smarter and be better. Be better so that you don’t need to chase after lecturers to throw you crumbs of marks for you to pass. Be so good, they can’t fucking ignore you.

6. You need to promptly study your lecturers.

Which ones are the good ones, which ones are more rotten than necrosed intestine? Which ones wear a facade of just and fairness but are the best in bullshitting? You seriously need to know your lecturers and relate with them from an advantaged position. You have to study these people because one size doesn't fit all in med school, and whilst some lecturers are good apples, a couple are the remnant of what Adam and Eve ate in the Garden of Eden. You have to quickly align yourself with the student-centric lecturers who are more concerned with actually teaching and impacting knowledge. If you are calm enough, you will eventually be able to differentiate between the stuffy and stuffless that are teaching you. You must know how best to relate with them academically and personally, if such is warranted. You must be familiar with their games, and play according to their rules but tweak it to your advantage. These guys will determine if you'll pass or fail. You can't and should not want to be in their bad books.

7. You have to know yourself too.

You have been studying others, now is the time to study yourself. You must make plans and be intentional about winning in med school. You have to study and be damn truthful to yourself about it. If you don't understand a concept, be honest about it to yourself. Don't assume you know it or that you'll know it along the way. If you are deficient in a particular course, don't be shy and seek help from those you know will genuinely help. Tell yourself the damn truth every time; you can't afford to be deluded. Create a study plan and stick to it. The hardest thing in medical school is maintaining consistency in anything you do and that's the bane of the problem of many students. Be consistent. Be hard on yourself when it's needed & go gently when need be. If you fuck up, own your shit and work towards getting better. Don't lie to yourself or blame others for your own lapses. Always remember that the longer you stay in the wrong bus, the farther it'll take you away from your intended destination, so get out now before it's too late.

8. You have to have goals, else every day will look like an unending war designed to drain you out.

You have to know when you've surpassed your goals and when you're yet to reach them. You have to create time for rest and recharge because you can't win an unending war if your battery is drained. You must know what kind of doctor you want to become and what the best route to achieving that is. You have to carve your own niche and distinguish yourself. The first three years of med school — year one & the two preclinical years — are enough time for you to create long-term goals and short-term ones. By the time you get to clinicals, you should be living in a low-budget version of what you want your life post-med-school should look like. You should also know that it is okay to not have it all figured out. What is not okay is for you to not have any ambition. It is not okay to be in med school simply because others are there.

9. Accommodation, finances, feeding, & extracurriculars

These are important areas you can't afford to neglect too. If you live in a poor accommodation, it'll show in your studies. You don't want to live too far from classes; you don't want to be having accommodation issues; you don't want to have to think of shelter when you should be thinking of haemostasis. Food is equally important. Have steady supply of food. Cook. Learn to cook the basics and eat at home. Eating outside will finish your money faster than T.pain is destroying Nigeria. Medical school is time consuming and draining, so you may not have that luxury of time to do many extracurricular, so just pick one/a few things that can serve as hobby and also develop you beyond academics. As regards finances, dem no dey telli person; you won't have time to do many side hustles in school, have enough funds to carry you for a long while.

10. Relationships are important in medical school.

Please make valuable connections. Network with people from other institutions. Have mentor or people who inspires you to greatness. Be cordial with your senior colleagues and the sensible ones in your class. Because let's be very honest with ourselves; werey po gan ni medical school sha. Do not be caught unfresh; don’t involve in shaddy acts. People hear things and see things and talk about things.

11. Finally, you have to have God.

You need to tether yourself to someone or something that is greater than yourself. You have to let someone or something lead you. You must find solace in religion or spirituality or anything that makes you transcend this normal, fucked up, scary realm.

This brings me to some of the basic things I learnt during the first three months of second year in med school in Community Health class. The damn Hippocratic oath.

The Hippocratic Oath encompasses a set of ethical principles and guidelines for physicians, emphasizing their moral obligations to their patients and the profession. While variations exist, the classical version of the oath consists of several key tenets:

1. Beneficence: Physicians pledge to use their medical knowledge and skills to benefit patients, preserving their health and well-being to the best of their abilities.

2. Non-Maleficence: A commitment to "do no harm" is a central element of the oath. Physicians vow to avoid intentional harm and to act in their patients' best interests.

3. Confidentiality: Patient confidentiality is a paramount concern. Physicians pledge to keep all patient information confidential, ensuring privacy and trust.

4. Autonomy: Respecting patient autonomy is vital. Physicians vow to empower patients to make informed decisions about their medical care.

5. Justice: Physicians pledge to treat patients fairly and without discrimination, regardless of their background, status, or circumstances.

6. Teaching and Mentorship: The oath emphasizes the duty to educate the next generation of physicians, ensuring the continuity of ethical medical practice.

7. Respect for Colleagues: Physicians pledge to work collaboratively with their colleagues, showing respect and professionalism in all interactions.

The damn OATH already gives patients autonomy. That is, it clearly states that patients are the ones calling the shots as regards their own health, as long as they make this decision informed and of sound mind. Medical practitioners CANNOT and SHOULD NEVER force themselves to be in a patient’s treatment plan or room, especially when the patient has clearly indicated that they do not want them.

I know what you’re thinking and it is: but this is a teaching hospital and what if all patients decides that they don’t want to be used as a training specimen. Well, those are valid questions and here are the answers.

First, a teaching hospital doesn’t mean all the patients are automatically a teaching subject. Rather, what it means is that all patients are potential subjects. The key word is potential. All patients in a teaching hospital are potentially a subject, but that doesn’t mean you have automatic access to their bodies. It is why medical students must take permission and get informed consent before doing anything on a patient. Also, the teaching aspect is mostly observing and shadowing, so it’s the consultants and the registrars that are really calling the shots. In fact, a medical student rarely get to do things like operate, prescribe, palpate, and auscultate without supervision and the essence of the supervision is to catch any lapses and ensure no irreversible damage is done by the medical students.

Secondly, there is no universe where, hypothetically, all the patients in a teaching hospital would outright and adamantly refuse to let medical students be part of their management team. In fact, some patients/their relatives help medical students out when they have minor lapses like incomplete clerking by assuming faults. In addition, there is nothing bad with letting patients see reasons as to why medical students actually have to be involved; today’s medical student is tomorrow’s doctor. The consultant/senior members of the management team can always advocate for the students but it CAN’T be forced. You can’t as a consultant, threaten to discontinue a patient treatment if they don’t let your students see their vagina and examine their breasts. That’s just crazy abuse of power.

Medical students must be grateful for every time they get to learn with a living being. You did not create them; you are not their god; you do not own their body; and they are not your automatic lab rats for learning. Medical ethics exists for a reason. As much as we train to be globally competent, we must incorporate other practices from foreign countries that makes their healthcare more advanced.

I can’t imagine working in a world-class hospital like John Hopkins and stubbornly refusing to give a patient privacy when they’ve clearly asked for it. If we want our hospitals to compete globally, we must be ready to advance globally and meet up with world-standard practices.

Things started to get real the evening I picked up my phone, aimlessly entered the class WhatsApp page, and saw a cryptic message from my ClassRep. It reads: “March 18 is sacrosanct”. First, five minutes extra-terrestrial discombobulation. Hollup, hollup, January just barely started. I mean, was it not last week we celebrated a new year? What’s going on, please? Kilo fe sele ni March? What's happening in March? Who is getting married? What is all this plix? Of course, the message generated a lot of reaction from my classmates. In medical schools, exams are one hell of a defining moment. So, from the first day of the session, you know you will write a board exam at the end of each class. You know your medical future hangs on passing those exams; you know the exams will come.

What do you mean March 18 is sacrosanct?

ClassRep dan Allah o

ClassRep, please resend upper limb materials

Please where did we stop in Abdomen?

ClassRep, when is BCH test oo

Please who is with the new Respiratory physiology material?

Abeg make person follow ClassRep talk abeg, we never even cover half of systemic oo.

The exam can’t be in March. It is After Ramadan.

Someone should send the old Renal physiology slides

You and who will read these 400+ GIT slides?

Messages upon messages. Silent prayers. Outbursts. Internal chaos. Acute dawn of realizations. Things started to get real. I came up with a new mantra: And my Lord will never abandon me.

1: Everything You Dread Will Happen

The thing about medical school that makes it intriguing is not the voluminous amount of information needed to be covered. It is the fact that this place tests your will, attempts to break you into a thousand pieces, offers you fresh pain after pain, and just the right amount of laughter marinated in ache. And then asks you: what else can you take? How far can you go before you snap? Will you ever reach your elastic limits or you find the strength to finish the program before med school finishes you? That was my situation early in January. I knew I’d be writing two career-defining exams this year, so I posted it on my WhatsApp status on New Year’s Eve. All I wanted was to blitz through those exams and not have my wings trapped. I knew it wouldn’t come easy; I knew I had to work. I just did not envisage that it’d take this much hard work from me for it to work.

I quickly revamped my reading timetable. I, who cannot stick to a schedule started reading with a timetable. I gathered all my materials, past questions bank, test questions, old notes, this and that. I tried to enter the exam-mode phase but was stuck in the normal class phase. Classes were still ongoing, we had a shit ton of tests to write, dissections, and practicals, and I just could not concentrate on preparing for exams when I don’t even know if I’ll pass the next physiology test. So I was reading for both, giving tests the bigger chunk of time.

On the last days of January or thereabout, the exam timetable was officially out and March 18 became a day etched into my mind. January sped through, and February was flash. I had an accident on Feb 14 and spent weeks recuperating. I wrote about it on my substack. My biggest fear was that the accident would impact my life so badly that I would miss out on the exam or I would fail. I struggled so much during that period, sat for an Abdomen test and failed. Luckily enough, my Lower Limb compensated.

2: Everything Is an Attempt to Break You

When it was exactly four weeks to the exam, I knew there was fire on the mountain. A senior colleague once said “Everything will make sense on the day the exam timetable is out. You’ll feel like you don’t know anything until a few days before the exams. That’s when all you know, all that is stored in your memories will resurface. That is when you will know if you have truly covered or not”. I lived through that. Weeks before my exams I was stuttering, everything was looking new and I was shit scared. Because writing is how I let things go, I was too scared to write, so I did the second best thing, cry. I was crying almost every day inside my room. Because what do you mean I’m going to carry this empty head and write that exam?

My anxiety level was off the roof, I was hyperventilating every damn time. I could picture my failure in 3D and since I am one of the most popular people in my class, I imagine how much ridicule I’d suffer when I finally failed. Three weeks before exams, I stopped going to classes. I stabbed dissection. I told myself I had garnered enough attendance already, and HOD would understand if they didn’t see me in class. I cannot continue like this; I cannot function carrying this guilt, this sense of imminent failure around. I need to change. I needed a miracle and it must happen fast. And on that day things did change.

I started putting in 19 hours or more of reading at a stretch. I was running back-to-back TDB. There were days I went 24 hours without sleep. What is sleep? Sleep is for the weak abeg. I’d wake up at 4 AM or thereabout, start with a revision whilst simultaneously working on breakfast. Work my way up from revision to newer topics, then finish off with a test on what I’ve learned. I was also making notes along the way. It was hectic, it was stressful; my hands ached and cramped and I was barely human. My reading style, as I’d learn is marathon. I don’t know how to read with regular breaks - one break and I’m back on social media. And when I do finally get myself to end the break and go back to my books, the energy level will not be the same.

So, the only breaks I took were to eat, walk around the house, and chit-chat for a few minutes. While I was doing these non-academic things, I was using a part of my consciousness to check MCQs, revise a strategy or remember a question or mnemonic. There was no time within the last three weeks before my exams that my mind was not in sync with the fact that I had a jaw-breaking promotional exam to write soon. I sat for so long that my trousers were damp – I guess you could say I was sweating my asses out. Mild cramps in my joint for sitting too long; I think if I had sat for longer hours, I’d permanently reshape my spine.

3: The Gift of Family, Friends, and an Invaluable Support System

People came through for me during my difficult times. I had senior colleagues who were interested in my well-being – academically and psychologically. Abdul was in my DM egging me on, always telling me how much he believed in me. At a point, I just felt Abdul was being delusional because how could he be so confident when he wasn’t in my head? There was a day I was on edge and Abdul was there with all his positive affirmations that I was so close to lashing out. And I think I knew why he was always like that. Abdul was one of the four senior colleagues I approached for orientation when I was about to resume med school. So deep down, I assume he sees me as a mentee and just cannot let me wander.

Amana, Olori Ebi, and the SWEMSA guys were fantastic. HITS, Blessing, Zak, Femi, JB, Water, and Peter were seniors who genuinely devoted time to me. And it was humbling because these guys too have their exams. I could remember JB was like send me any anatomy question you have that is troubling you, I’d solve it and get back to you ASAP. This is someone who was in the middle of his professional exam period. I do have quite a cordial relationship with many of my seniors, so I don’t find it hard to relate with them.

I had and still have DON. If I attempt to put into words how much DON did for me, I think I’d fall in love with him. Nobody came through for me academically like DON did. Bro saw me struggling, held me together, and said, Ololade lift because you are not meant to stay grounded. I’d call DON any time of the day and he dared not leave me unanswered. I’d rant, and meet up in school for him to share insights and go through my academic progress. He gave me the final strategy I used for my exam too. DON made sure I wasn’t stuffing myself with dead spaces. I don’t like it when I have classmates shouldering my weight with theirs, especially since we’d be writing the same exams, so I rarely ask for assistance from a classmate. There were a number of them who suggested tutorials and volunteered to teach me a concept or walk me through a problem, but I kinda declined. I’d feel guilty taking out of their limited time.

Aarinola, Asiwaju, and Ope were the long-distance support systems I heavily relied on. Ope is a medical student at OAU, and even though he wasn’t here in Sokoto, he was around me weeks before the exams, the whole exam period, and the days that followed. Aarinola & Asiwaju, my favorite women in the world had me in their prayers, called frequently, and ensured I was in the right headspace. They made me laugh and made the whole period comfortable for me. Asiwaju was writing her third book during that period, was my accountability partner, and kept progress of my results too. Aarinola was supposed to be working on her final year stuff and the online courses. Somehow, everyone around me created space for me. And I basked in that bubble, in that green zone, and I was safe. I felt safe.

Olaide and Nafiu were the newbies in my hostel. They are both second-year medical students. They were my food plug during exam weeks and the days before it. They’d cook and bring food for me. Nafiu had all the kindest and nicest things to say to me. Ololade, don’t worry you’ve passed. Ololade, try to sleep now, Ololade koni su e, ko ni re e. My roommate, a 3rd year MLS student knew I needed all the space I could get, so he made the room convenient for reading, ensured he was minimal disturbance, and prayed for me too. I remember I had extended him the same courtesy when he was writing his professional exams too.

My Grandma, Big Mum, Grandpa, and siblings also held my fragile frame and supported me in their ways. My Grandma called me every morning before my papers and prayed for me. My grandpa was just sending money every week. My siblings took over my bills, and my Big Mum was her usual sef – my favorite son cannot suffer in med school so I’d rather starve than watch him experience any form of discomfort. I remember two months into schooling when I called a family meeting and announced that I was dropping out because no normal human being should be subjected to this kind of torture med school dishes out. Since then, my family has been extra supportive.

At the end of the day, when I think about it, I realize I owe my success to God and all the amazing people he surrounded me with.

4: “Examination Weak”

Everyone around me knows I struggle to keep to time. 8:00 AM exams and it would never dawn on me to go take my bath until it was 7:40. I don’t know why, but I’m an adrenaline junkie. I needed to be on that precipe of falling out to function. So it explains why despite how we’ve been told to be at the exam venue 30 minutes before the commencement of the exam, I got there 7 minutes before 9:00 AM. Another enabler of my lateness is how far behind my name is on the class list, so when it comes to marking attendance or anything that has to do with roll call, I know I’d always make it before they get to my name. There was a day they were calling attendance during practical and a friend called me just as they were about to start calling the names. I left my off-campus apartment, walked out of my room, took a bike, and got to class before they’d get to call half of the names on the class list. I got credits for the practical.

Anatomy was the first paper, and maybe because it was the first war, I was sufficiently prepared. I tackled each question to the best of my ability, attempted the ones I wasn’t damn sure of, and ensured I left no stone unturned. I was late for paper II, so twenty minutes was deducted from the 60 minutes duration. I cyclone through the questions like they were already imprinted on my memory. I finished 80 MCQs in less than 40 minutes. That’s about less than 30 seconds to read a question and the options and pick the correct answer. I knew I was operating on beast mode just to compensate for the lost time. At the end of the paper, the president of my MSA and other executives were waiting outside to cheer us on.

Physiology was the weapon fashioned against me. Just when I thought the paper I was the worst that could happen, paper II showed me premium shege. First, the theory were unexpected questions. You know when lecturers known to repeat past questions decides to set new questions & experiment with your set, that was the jaw-dropping surprise we met. Also, time just flashed through and three hours seemed like 20 minutes. Then I carried the thoughts of how bad paper I was into paper II and just couldn’t finish the 240 MCQs in 90 minutes. Then I got slapped with a penalty too – a minus 10 mark in the MCQ because I was still shading after time up. I was just totally destabilized. I finished the physiology exam and slept for about 4 hours straight because I was just too tired to even cry.

Biochemistry was the last paper. Egun nla ton keyin igbale. The big masquerade that performs last. A few backstory here: I have a love-hate relationship with biochemistry. It was the least studied course; I gave it little attention. I have been studying it for a very long time. I did BCH until the end of my third year during my undergraduate studies at OAU, so I have fairly decent background knowledge of what I’m dealing with. All those years, I never loved BCH because of the poor teachers, I still don’t like it now despite having better teachers. BCH is just that classmate whom you don’t talk to even though they never crossed your path.

Since I had flunked physiology, I was hoping to compensate with BCH and that was when it dawned on me that I had over neglected my BCH. The exam itself was smooth but it was unnerving up until I entered the venue. First, we started with paper II and because I was trying to be careful, I left a couple of questions unanswered thinking there was a negative marking in place. Also, the hall was rowdy because three different departments were writing different exams inside the same hall, and time just blitzed through. My BCH wasn’t on the great start I’d hoped. Then came the break before the paper I and my anxiety placed me in a chokehold. I was hyperventilating, restless, trying to cram all the areas I had not touched before. Those four hours before the second part was chaos unbridled. Surprisingly, the paper was fair and I was able to attempt all the questions. BCH was the only exam I was able to finish way ahead of time, submitted before time, and felt relaxed writing it. I remember asking one of the supervisors, “Sir, time please” and he said “Just continue to write don’t worry about time.”

5: How it ended

I will be very honest here. When I wrote this part on the 29th of March, 2024, my results were not out and just the thought of it scares me. I remember DON used to say there is nothing more gut-wrenching than writing an exam and not knowing whether you’ve passed or failed until the results come out. So I go into each exam with the mindset that at least by the time I submit my paper, I should be able to fairly gauge my performance. I should be able to say I have written what is enough to get me a passing mark. I may not be able to precisely predict my final score but I should have that feeling that I have passed.

So you can imagine how elated I feel after each paper. That feeling of, Ololade you have honestly done your best in the context of each paper, and given another chance, you’d obviously perform better. I go about my break now, not anxious to see whether I passed but speculative about what I passed with.

On the 12th of April, my results were release and I passed. I was promoted and officially a 3rd year medical student.

I am grateful for the opportunity to learn, grow, and pass through this phase of my life. My Lord truly did not abandon me. Fabi Ayyi Ala I Rabbikuma Tukazziban. And which of my Lord’s favours shall I deny?

Today is Monday and my 1st MBBS result is set to be released in 12 hours’ time. Sleep has eluded me; my mind is racing; my neurones are firing haphazardly. I am listening to late Lata Magheskar’s Kabhi Kushie Kabhie Gham at the maximum volume of my ear pods. I have prayed and prayed. At this point, the only calming idea is to quickly journal my experience during my third year of medical school. I hope to fall asleep while writing this.

YEAR THREE CHRONICLES

On January 1st 2024, I started the year with a brief prospectus. I knew I’d be writing two career-defining examinations in 2024 and all I wanted is to pass both exams. Indeed, I passed my 2nd year pre-MBBS promotional exam in March 2024 and officially became a 3rd year medical student the following month.

The first thing I’d say about 3rd year of medical school is that it is the most elusive class and quite also the most dangerous, academically. Here in my school, 3rd year ranges between six to eight months depending on how long or short the 2nd year was. So we resumed in April but real work did not start until May.

In 3rd year, your lecturers expect you to already know things. So we were moving at a speed of light, trying to cover entirely new concepts in biochemistry, building on familiar concepts in physiology and anatomy. In this place, we do Head & Neck and Neuroanatomy in Anatomy; Endocrine, Reproduction, Gastrointestinal, Neurophysiology, and Special Senses in Physiology; Biochemistry topics are quite exhausting to list out, however, they are not common topics that you’d find in the textbooks.

In term of CAs, my tests were poor in Yr3 compared to Yr2. Somehow, I was either partially prepared or ill or get into the hall and become dazzed. However, I was optimistic. The bulk of the scores are in the 1st professional examination, and as such, I did not let my poor test scores deter me. Also, whilst the concepts were not entirely strange since I am not new to the courses, I was heavily unmotivated for the first several weeks of my Yr3.

A lot has changed in my class. Most of my classmates are now calmer since the Pre-MBBS that we wrote at the end of Yr2 has shown everyone shege banza. The class WhatsApp group is mostly quiet save for a few jesters. There were less banters and everyone was more interested in moving to the next class than engaging in class beefs. Literally, we were exhausted but optimistic folks hoping to be done with this tortuous medical education as early as possible.

When it was sixty days to the 1st MBBS professional exams, the timetable was released and I knew it was time. The marathon that began in April 2024 just started its final lap and I cannot afford to not make it to the finish line in due time.

However, a lot changed in the examination schedule. 1st MB here used to be a three-week examination period but it was cut to two weeks. There used to be gaps (a day or two between each successive paper) in the previous timetables but the gaps were removed. So based on the new timetable, I wrote essays and MCQs in anatomy on Monday, biochemistry on Tuesday, physiology on Wednesday in the first week. Then in the second week, I wrote anatomy practical on Monday, physiology practical on Tuesday, biochemistry practical on Wednesday, anatomy viva on Thursday, physiology viva on Friday, and biochemistry viva on Saturday. Rest on Sunday. 1st MBBs result is out the following day.

My class deliberated on the potential chokehold the timetable placed us in and decided to lobby for college to revert to status quo but our appeals were rejected on the grounds that college is scheduling multiple class exams and there is just no free days. So we accepted our fate.

I channelled the last bucket of energy left in me into preparing for the exam. I went from normal to overdrive within days. I gathered all my notes and ensured they were up to date. I sourced for past questions and solved everyone I saw like it was my potential exam question. I focused more on high yield topics and regularly check on the others. And when it was 28 days to the commencement of my exams, I progressed from overdrive to beast mode.

I moved out of my apartment off campus into the hospital’s trauma center where I lived till the day my result was released. In the trauma center, I met a couple of my classmates who moved in to read too while others regularly come from the hostel. Somehow, one goal united us all together – the need to pass this exam. We read in the same hall, discussed when in the mood, laughed, and shared both good and bad times.

However, I knew what I wanted and as such did not allow myself to be influenced by mediocrity. So I pushed myself harder. I studied longer since electricity was fairly constant in trauma. The hall was air-conditioned and the chairs were comfy for both reading and sleeping. All my personal effects like change of clothes, toothbrush, extra pair of footware, study materials, and gadgets fitted into two bag. They were all I had during that period. At first, I try to go home and bath daily, however, as my exam date came closer, I only went home once in four or five days.

There is something about 1st MBBS exam that makes it look like an easy exam here and that is because the marks were fragmented. Unlike in Pre-MBBS exam where you fight for a whopping 70 marks in each paper, during 1st MB you have more battles but smaller wins. The CAs done in the class carried 30 marks while main MBBS exam shared 70 marks between its different aspects. The theory is allocated 20 marks, the MCQ is 20, the practical is 20, and Viva is 10 marks.

THE GIFT OF FAMILY, FRIEND, & AN INVALUABLE SUPPORT SYSTEMS

Exam period in medical school is stressful. For me, I had a lot of people who offered me support in diverse ways. Anas (a friend and senior colleague) got me breakfast two days to my first paper. Amanatullah (the former VP of my med school association and a senior colleague) cooked for me on the first day of my exam. DON brought me a plate of pounded yam and egusi soup on the second day of my exam. Fadila (a classmate) bought me food voluntarily three time during the exam weeks. Rosemary (my debate partner and junior colleague) made a delicious fried rice for me on the first day of my practical exam. Ummi (my med school bestie and classmate) brought fried rice from Davekem for me the following day. Hafsah paid for my drink once. Hikmat & Halimah got me lunch once during the exam period.

In terms of academic assistance Abdulmalik and James were the two immediate senior colleague who were always at service since they wrote this same exam about 8 months ago. Mai Fata and DON were my past question plugs and thalamus. Joshua literally gave me his preclinical folders and shared multiple tips with me. Chike, Asiwaju, Opeyemi, Aarinola, Ummi, Blessing, Munir, Jubril, Mutmainah, Abdullahi, Abdul, Dr Rufai, Rosha, Walliyullahi, HITS, Zurmi, Raphael, Abel, Iman, Usman, Abdulkareem, Okiki, Khatabu, AY, Ridwanullahi, Zak, Abiodun, Fatima, Kelvin, Habeebllahi Summayah, Mariam, Toyosi, Fola, Faithful, and many other wonderful people in my circle reached out multiple times to check up on me during my exam period.

In terms of finances, my family bankrolled it all. My elder brother was sending me money every three days. My dad, sister, grandma, and big mum made large contributions. I did not cook throughout my stay in trauma and for the one month I spent there, I ate Abusaf bread quite often. For a single meal I spent close to 3K and was haemorrhaging 20k in less than 5 days. Financially and spiritually, I depended on the money and prayers of my family, friends, seniors, neighbours, classmates, and virtual acquaintances. It was wholesome knowing that a lot of people care about my success.

THEORY & MCQ WEEK

There is a quote that says “do your best and leave the rest” and I think that aptly summarizes each of my exams. Let us start with the first week exams. Essay and MCQ of the three courses.

In Anatomy, I was able to answer 18 out of 20 questions and I attempted the other two in the essay. There were lots of unexpected questions and it was obvious that the department deviated from their status quo. I was hoping for at least a 10/20 in it. In the MCQ, it was 365 questions from the pit of hell. Whilst I did my best, I just assumed that with the negative marking used, I’d score 2/20 in that one. Everyone in the class knew the MCQ was designed to make students cry but I maintained my steeze.

In BCH, the theory questions were surprising because the professors that we assumed their questions would come out did not show face. However, I did my best in the theory and I hoped for at least a 10/20 in it too. For BCH MCQ, it was fully from the slides – which I did not intensively read. There was negative marking system in place too and the questions were just 118 so I only answered the ones I was sure of and left about 15 questions unanswered. I hoped for a better score in the MCQ compared to anatomy.

Something happened to me about 12hrs before my physiology exam. If you recall, our papers were back to back. After BCH exam I slept around 7PM, woke up by 10PM and tried to do last revision for the physiology I’d write the next morning. For the first two hours after waking up I could not comprehend shit in physiology. All the systems looked strange, I could not recall the things I knew in the course. The high yield topics that I had formed notes for, read multiple time and internalized all disappeared from my memory. I laid back and tried to sleep but it wasn’t coming, so I stood up and tried to read again, yet, my mind was still blank. Surprisingly, everyone around in trauma were moving stuff in physiology and some were even sleeping. Everyone around looked like their physiology is settled and it suddenly dawned on me that I just might fail physio. So, I went outside of the hall, found myself a corner and wept like a baby. That was the first time I’d be going blank in my life. Although it wasn’t in an exam hall, it felt just as scary as much. Munir and Jamiu were the ones who consoled me and gave me motivation and plenty of vibes. Then Kangiwa, a classmate, did a crash revision of respiratory physiology with me afterwards. When, I finally calmed down, I was able to read and assimilate better.

In physiology exam, I blanked out for the first 30 minutes of the exam but I was able to utilize the remaining 150 minutes well. I was able to finish 3 questions and attempted the remaining 2 halfway each. For the MCQ it was just 84 questions comprising different systems and I was able to answer it well. There was no negative marking system too. I think physiology department really wanted us to pass. Our MBBS exam was fairer than the pre-MBBS exam we wrote in Yr2. The MCQ was cheaper too.

HOW THE PRACTICAL EXAMS WENT

For anatomy practical, again, I think I did below average. The questions were toxic and they were not the kind of questions we were told to expect in anatomy steeplechase. Despite everything, anatomy department seems to be the weapon fashioned against my class. The timing was fair at 60 seconds, but then, if it didn’t dey it didn’t dey. There is just a limit to what can be synthesized within a minute. Afterwards, we submitted our histology manual and I prayed that at least a couple of marks be awarded for the drawings and histology assessments.

For physiology practical, I am glad I paid rapt attention during practical sessions. All the questions were cheap and they were very basic. Anyone who was at least 50% serious with practical classes would pass at least half of the questions. I wrote a lot, requested for extra sheet and kept pouring stuff. For the marks I believed I lost in theory I worked to recover them in practical. Also, I was graded 9/10 in my physiology practical report workbook.

For biochemistry practical, we had a revision class with the laboratory officials at the end of the practical session. Armed with the knowledge from the revision, it was quite seamless for me to enter into the practical exam and did quite well. I was late for this particular exam and the examination officer delayed me and requested that the latecomers write an apology letter before they’d be allowed to write the exam. Despite the delay, I was glad that I could attempt the 40 questions comfortably.

VIVA VOCE

I don’t know who invented oral examination as a method of assessing medical students but that person must be a crazy genius. My oral exams were the most tensed exams I partook in. Despite the fact that viva is only allocated 10 marks from the total 70 marks for exam, it is the most feared exam too. External examiners, who are only professors assess the students. These Profs comes from different universities across the country and the department gives them veto power. That is, even if you had passed the course by scoring 50 and above before going for viva, they could assess you and if you fail, reward you with a resit. So, everyone – both the distinction students and those in need of viva score to pass – try their best to impress these professors.

For my anatomy viva, I was asked 14 questions of which I got 13 correctly and failed 1. A lecturer from the anatomy department was with the external examiner and he helped me a lot by interpreting the questions in such a way that it was easier for me answer. God will continue to bless him. Everyone was told to be at the venue by 9AM, yet it wasn’t until 4:40PM before it got to my turn on the class list.

For my physiology viva, I was asked 2 questions only with a 2 minutes timer to answer the question. The student who were examined earlier in the day got 5 minutes duration to speak. My questions were quite cheap and I delivered. Also, due to my position on the class list, it wasn’t until 8:30PM before I was examined. It was exhausting because I had been in school since 9AM like others.

For my biochemistry viva, I could not sufficiently answer the first two questions the prof asked me. They were biochemical pathway questions and I am deficient in pathways. I find it tedious to learn pathways and not forget or mix them up. So I was honest and told the prof that I do not know a lot of pathways but my knowledge of the clinical aspects of biochemistry is impressive. So, he asked me a clinical related question and I delivered. Again, I was one of the last few people to be examined and I finished around 5:30PM.

If I am to rate my own performance in the oral exam, I’d say I earned a 9/10 in anatomy, 8/10 in physiology, and a 6/10 in biochemistry viva.

HOW IT ENDS

As I write this part, my results are not yet out. There is a board meeting by 11AM to deliberate on the results of the 1st MBBS exam. I am confident that I would pass at least 2 out of the 3 courses. My biggest fear is failing anatomy and having to sit for a resit in six weeks’ time. I have prayed, everyone I know prayed for me. I even informed my mum that based on what I did and how I graded myself, there is a good chance that I may resit anatomy. Nevertheless, I give thanks to God who strengthened me during the course of the exams. I am most indebted to all the people who supported me in one way or the other during the exam. The calls, texts, goodwill, assistances, and prayers were the wings I flew with.

I don’t think I say it often, but I’m extremely loved. I have the best support system. The people around me are absolutely interested in my wellbeing and are actively looking out for me. When I don’t have enough will, my support system are the ones keeping my candle burning. I have the capability to win and it is solely because these people crawled so that I could fly.

I retained my mantra from Yr2, and every time I felt anxious before and after my exams I say it many time. I tell it to myself: And my Lord will never abandon me.

Post edit: November 11, 2024. 3:30PM. Result has just been pasted on the notice board. I scrolled through the pictures set to my class WhatsApp page. I passed all three courses. I am now a 4th year medical student. Indeed, my Lord did not abandon me.

In that same breath, my tenure as the associate Editor in Chief of UDUMSA, member of the UDUMSA Planning Committee, and Lead of UDUMSA Debate Club came to an end. I am no more under any moral or legal obligation, and henceforth, I shall speak freely only as a Nexus Doctores and an active member of UDUMSA. I shall maintain my status as a representative in the UDUMSA Quiz Club and discharge my duties as a NiMSA official in UDUMSA. I must also remain a core Research Cohort with UDUMSA Research Club.

I thank my creator who gave me the capacity to deliver. I’m indebted to my team members, the executives, and the entire UDUMSAites who undoubtedly believe in my capabilities and trusted me with representation. At the end of the previous administration, I got one certificate of service. This last one, I got two certificates from two different offices and a joint award at the UDUMSA Dinner 2024 which took place on the 29th of June, 2024.

However, this piece is not about the new administration. It is more about the old administration and let’s just call it a quick review of all offices. I will try to make it as unbiased as possible and cover most grounds. We will also start from the lower ratings and work our way up.

Office of Assistant Secretary General

Mr ASG seemed to me (and I may be wrong) to be one of those people who was in office solely because their class wanted him there. Right from the campaign, to manifesto night, till inauguration, I never got the vibe that we have a capacity Assistant Secretary General. I rarely, if not never, saw him at UDUMSA activities/events and trust me when I say that we had several. He was not even at his own handing-over ceremony. What parts did he play in any of the hundreds of activities we did in the last 385 days of the last administration? Why was he so laidback whilst other executives basked in the spotlights? How did he contribute to UDUMSA? What projects did he lead? Mr Assistant Sec Gen seems to me to be a very lacklustre person who just wanted to see what it looked like to taste power. I’ll give him a 4/10.

Office of the Treasurer

I have some bias for this office simply because I once contested to be a treasurer in UDUMSA and lost at the polls. Nonetheless, I strongly think Mr Treasurer could have handled it better. As Treasurer, he was not supposed to be under the shadow of the President. He should have been independent from day one and his biggest KPI was how much money collected per class. Class Reps and influential people per class should be in his corner; he should be a regular face in classes but he only came to my class once to talk to us about the PreMB exam and nothing about why we should pay the dues. He should have investigated classes that were not fully cooperating with the aim of getting to know the cause and providing solution. My class as a whole used to be an underdog in UDUMSA after a couple of very messy issues and majority of the class decided not to pay their dues. This was resolved at the last congress of UDUMSA. The treasurer also failed to lend his voice during the several crises that plagued the last administration, even when his class was the primary victim. The Treasurer had just one constitutional job and whilst he executed it to his capabilities, it could be better. I'll give him a 6/10.

Welfare Director

SCOWELF can do better. This office worked mostly in the background and there was little to no noise about the work they were doing. I partly fault the director for this, he was not overtly a political person. Some of the good works they did include the UDUMSA library, welfarism during the Health week and some of the other events we did, and maybe taking care of the hostels too. However, that's not everything about welfarism. Where was SCOWELF during MBs and PreMBs? What programs did he make to help students during those trying times? Where was he during inter-class crises? The few times I worked with this office I learnt quickly that the director actually had genuine plans, he just did not execute all. The director is a kind person no doubt. He was soft-spoken throughout his tenure, very hospitable the few times I visited his room in the hostel, and was one of the few people that never became power-drunk. A solid 6/10.

Office of the Financial Secretary

What can I say about this office without sounding like a bully? Because the last time I grilled Mr Fin Sec at the congress, my chief did not even know where to start his rebuttals and the president had to step into the ring. Do you know the implications of that? A financial secretary who couldn’t hold his grounds against a barely third year medical student isn’t something of pride but screams incompetence. The Fin Sec did his constitutional job of keeping records —although, I'd say the records weren't meticulous— but he failed in the areas of being a financial adviser. He was approving money left and right; even the ones everyone at congress agreed were ostentatious. In every association I know, the financial secretary used to be a bigger opposition to the president than other executives because he/she holds access to all the monies and should guard it ferociously. Presidents will always make official requests for monies, it is the job of the financial secretary and the legislative arm to ensure monies are not just disbursed solely based on request but based on priority and solid financial decisions. He made some responsible dealings and worked in his own capacity too despite his humongous flaws. This office deserves a 6/10.

Sports Director

The thing with SCOGA was that he showed very great potential at the beginning of the administration but suddenly became laid back. At the beginning we were having several sports sessions. We had a couple of female badminton games. Two or three sports outdoor hangouts. Many indoor games etc. I'm not really big on sports but I can run to save my life, so I show up at sporting events mostly as a spectator. And SCOGA had great people to work with. His team cut across both clinical and preclinical. He was one of the executives that had well-defined teams. Personally, I did not have any strong interaction with the director of sports, but the general consensus was that he was a cool guy during his tenure. Nevertheless, I wish he hadn't just shut out and waited till health week to do something again. Was it because of funds? Was the pressure of extracurricular activities too much for him? Were there internal team problems? I honestly did not know. Beyond that, he was almost everywhere UDUMSAites were and included preclinical a lot in his activities. He was also a logistical support in situations that warranted his assistance. I will rate him a 7/10.

Academic Director

This was the office I engaged with the least for not-so obvious reasons. I am very pleased with the couple of mock tests organised and the anaemic weekly presentations —I'd later learn poor attendance killed the morale of it. However, the presentations seemed more like a state association kind of thing than it was for the whole UDUMSA, I guess that was why many people don't used to turn up. Also, SCOMEH director was hardly in our faces. He was not there to ask how the exams went after the boards, online or physically. As academic director, his job was not only to organize tutorials and mock tests, it included follow ups after these tests and exams. It included regularly getting assessments and questionnaires from students on how that particular class they were in was fairing academically. Nonetheless, the academic sessions and the Quiz session of the health week were highly commendable during his tenure and SCOMEH deserves his flowers. I rate him a 7/10.

Secretary General

The office of the secretary general is the secretariat of UDUMSA and I hold this office to a very high standard. Mr Sec Gen showed capacity. I think he made the office really desirable. Mr Sec Gen was always working and he listened. I had more friction with him than any other executive; we were always at two opposing ends but somehow usually meet at the middle. Sec Gen, a core conservative. Me, an unyielding liberal. Apart from his constitutional duties, he was always there for UDUMSA. He truly embodies leadership and delivers every damn time. You need an executive you can always count on, I'm directing you to him. However, occupying such pivotal position did come with plenty storms. In the areas of external communications, the Sec Gen ran a perfect ship. UDUMSAites were up-to-date on the latest correspondence regarding their association. However, internally, he seemed more like he was a suppressed voice. There were several situations when UDUMSAites counted on him to shine light on issues but never got response. Nobody knew Mr Sec Gen’s stance when the group was locked for several months or what steps he took to get it re-opened. Then there was the messy award nomination and presentation saga and how he almost totally soiled his own reputation with his deafening silence when called out severally. There is no argument that the Sec Gen took directives from the president, and I just wished he had maintained a firmer stance on issues he did not seem to agree with the president. UDUMSAites believed Mr Sec Gen chose not to be on the president’s bad books just to remain his anointed successor and played too hard to be seen as the good cop. Nonetheless, in the areas of cooperation, leadership, fostering teamwork and being an all-round decent person, he is deserving of 9/10.

Social Director

It was very obvious Social Director delivered from his office. At first, he seemed like those core "seniors are always right" person who'd never stoop low to work with junior colleagues. I used to be quite indifferent about him, and was not sure he could deliver the kind of social lifestyle I envisaged for UDUMSA. Also, based on how the electioneering that brought him in went, I just assumed he would be a class puppet who would only put the interest of his class first and not necessarily deliver. How wrong was I? The social director was hardworking, open to suggestions and opinions from everyone, very hospitable, and understands that leaders do not necessarily have to be at the forefront. If you get to meet him, at his core, he just wants to do his job, be social, chop life and move on. Social Director is as liberal a Fortis can get. Highly dependable, very dedicated and will always deliver. His tenure ushered so many social activities in and I gradually began to believe that indeed, medical students can wear multiple hats excellently. Cultural night, dinner, movies and game nights, indoor games, hike, hangouts, and many more happened during his tenure. He was a core planner and would always be there to do the grunt work just as much as he publicly loves to be appreciated. If you think this is a lie, ask anyone how grand his entrance was at the UDUMSA dinner and the hype that followed. Mr Social Director’s influence go as far as being a social lifeline at the other campus of the university. A solid team leader and generally friendly person. A solid 9/10

President

Indeed uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. I like Mr President more as a person than as the president. As a person, he is someone to have in your corner. At your lowest low, he will cross the 7 seas and mountains just to be there for you. That's a rare quality to find in people. He's also a sweet talker, eloquent speaker, enjoys massive fine boy privileges, cares for UDUMSA, and at his core, an all-round decent human being. As a president, well, presidency is tricky. So, I find it deeply confusing to juxtapose how someone can be such a decent human being and borderline Machiavellian president. He seemed like someone who read books like The Prince, 48 laws of power, The art of War, etc. (PS: if those are the kind of books you like, I'm giving you bad eyes). Mr President did not and cannot take a modicum of criticism. Berated Nexus so bad the whole class blacklisted him. His administration almost ended with a strong, irrevocable divide between the clinical and preclinical. He locked the group for months, gave a very unjust ruling just to serve the interest of his class. A core "seniors are always right" conservative leader. Also likes to play the good cop in a skewed good-cop-bad-cop politics. Employs silence as a defence strategy. And will never publicly acknowledge his own excesses. Assuming they did not open the association’s WhatsApp group after a slight online provocation between Nexus and Optimum, his administration would have ended with a legacy of stifling freedom of expression and just downright oppressive. On the good side, he did quite a lot for UDUMSA too and deserves credits. He spent heavily on the association, made difficult choices for the association, was everywhere and expertly knows how to take good care of his followers. He also rarely sang his own praises, which in retrospect, would have made people remember his good sides more than the flawed ones. At the beginning of the administration, Mr President listened to everybody, he was someone who would go hungry just to ensure his followers eat. Indeed uneasy lies the head wearing the damn crown. A fair 9/10.

Vice President

Madam VP of the most high. The one who raised the bar. Excellent team leader, highly diplomatic, perfectionist, and will agonize deeply for the slightest error. A great listener and most importantly, she is interested in getting the job done than anything else. I think the reason she delivered excellently was because for years VPs had always been figureheads in this MSA and she really wanted to prove that she was different. She's also someone with high energy but gets drained quickly if she's not getting the same from people around her. Madam VP gave her team essence and directly carries UDUMSA. Apart from the highly impressive health week — the best in years, the MSA also recorded some outstanding breakthrough. We had our first trade fair and blood drive. We had a health week that was majorly planned, directed and executed by preclinical. She was at the fore of bringing back preclinical and clinical together under the same roof. She believed everyone is capable of giving, if and only if we provide them with a chance to do so. Every UDUMSA event, madam VP was there. Every orientation, every meeting, she was there to offer a diverse perspective. However, Madam VP does not have the capacity for aluta. When push comes to shove, she would rather go to safe mode than chaos mode. A peace-loving, feminine, dedicated leader. She, like most of the executives sacrificed a lot. I know their reward is in heaven. And because I don't think there's anyone in UDUMSA at the moment who could have done it better than she did, I rate her a 10/10.

Director of Publication

I am biased because my position was under this office and I worked directly with Director of Pub. Nonetheless, everything I say is true. He was the best executive in that administration and nobody, again nobody comes anywhere close. He is the perfect example of excellent leader. He gave every member of SCOPUB creative liberty and doesn't micromanage people. He had plans before he even took office and "hit" the ground running right from day one. The only executive who delivered 100% during that tenure was him. He was highly diplomatic, most admired and very calm. Another thing he did better than anyone was carefully selecting his whole team within days post inauguration. Some of his team member already got the offer to work with him before inauguration. The only issue I had with the director of publication was that he had a lot on his plates and sometimes things may slip through the cracks. However, he had competent people as quarterbacks and they never disappointed. I am also glad that the director recognises the fact that his wins were that of SCOPUB team, and SCOPUB’s wins were his too. The committee on publication had 100% highly efficient people in publicity, editorial, and graphics design teams. We had Muizzah and Rosha (whom sadly, despite being nominated amongst the new caretaker, rejected the offer). We had Fatihu, Malik, Nahimullahi, Hikmat, Femi, Abdullahi, Ibrahim, Khadija, Abu Uthameein, Salim, and others. The secret is one person can't do it alone, and SCOPUB Director had 17 other amazing people to do it with. No one really can beat that easily. He restored UDUMSA's PR back to how it was as one of the leading MSA in Northwest Nigeria. 10/10 because he over delivered and deserved way more.

© Ololade Edun.

The year I speak of was 2018 and I made it a point of duty to help my course mates generally improve in their written and spoken English. In short, I became an English Language police.

I criticized those who did not speak the language well; I became a critic for the poets and writers in my department.

I was quick on my feet to point out errors, refute claims and wrong pronunciations, tell people their poetry was shitty with forced rhymes, and give a comment on cliché and secondary-school-student-like stories.

I was, well, more than a grammar police and slowly, a pain in people’s lives.

Honestly, I thought I was doing something good. They all accepted my corrections and reviews. They never complained because my corrections albeit quite apt were excessively blunt. When, I say blunt I do not mean the “your writing is so bad you should never hold a pen again in your life” kind of blunt. I just gave it to people straight and might have used a lot of not-so-soothing words.

I do not know how to butter up people, plus I treated them the way my then mentor did to me. So, it became a part of me; to tell people things straight without thinking about them or how they feel.

Then one day my cup went brimful and started running over. One very calm evening had me sweating in my room, virtually fighting a war with over 450+ class mates.

I had quickly pointed out someone’s error and had done it just the way I used to – blunt with a sprinkle of why-can’t-you-guys-just-stick-to-my-corrections.

Almost the whole class came for my head that evening. You know when you have inflated a balloon so much that it can’t hold any more air, and it just lets everything in it out. Yeah, that was how my classmates let out all their pent up emotions.

It was a shit-fest therapy session. A rare “everybody come and say what you don’t like about Ololade” night. Barrages of insults here and there, people’s blunt confession about me, ridicule spiced with snide remarks, direct confrontations.

Everything was coming from every angle. I was defenseless, even those who wanted to be my ally on the group were brutally decimated. That night was one of the few days I had an honest and not-so-honest conversations and people’s opinions about me were not sugarcoated. I felt sad, bitter, weak, helpless, and at the same time betrayed.

When I later confronted some of them that why do they still come to me for my honest opinions about their works when deep down they were hurt, and may just be using style to curse me inwards.

“Off course, everyone knows you’re good. You have been nominated once as the best writer on OAU campus, and twice in this faculty. You are the EIC, and damm we cannot even count the number of oratory or written competitions you’ve lost none… The point is, you assume everyone to be as good as you. Some of us just started writing, some of us are rekindling the writing spirit, and some of us just needed someone to be very truthful about our works, preferably someone better than us… You are everything we wanted in a critic except the fact that you never considered that maybe the piece is personal to us or the energy we spent writing it. Or that we just wanted people to read us.”

Did I change for the better? Yes. Do I still give unsolicited advice and opinions? Well, you will have to shove your hands down my throat to fetch an unsolicited opinion, I don’t care if your English is worse than you-know-who. Do I still critique works? Yes. I fare better as a critic than a writer.

The moral of this story is that, well, fuck it, I am not sure there is a moral to this story. I just found this draft on my drive from lockdown of 2020, read it and decided I should edit it and have it published.

Anyway, you can be good, be needed, have people around you, be loved, be adored, but do not take these people for granted and occasionally, you may get to hear what they think about you. 2018 is about six years ago.

Do I still remember who said what about me? No. However, I did pick up some lessons, grew thicker skin, changed a bit or tremendously – I really can’t say – and most importantly, I did become a better person. Or thereabout.

ONE

It all started several months ago when Ayo resumed college. Ayo is a fresh-eyed second-year medical student; Prof, a consultant here at the university teaching hospital. Classes that fateful day dragged long like they would not come to an end. And it was almost 5 PM when Ade decided that since her daddy wasn't Hipoccrates, nobody would care if she abandoned dissection and just went home to eat and sleep. So, she packed her books into a bedazzling handmade bag, discarded her gloves and nose mask, folded her labcoat that smelled of formalin, and literally, dead bodies into the bag, and headed home.

The layout of the teaching hospital was to make it a connected structure, hence departments are linked by unending long walkways. Ayo walked from trauma, down to the male surgical ward, till she ended up at the neurosurgery car park. She crossed the road that led towards the staff quarters gate when a Mercedes slowed down beside her. The driver, a man in simple Englishwear started a conversation.

"Hello."

"Hi. Good evening sir."

"What's up? I have seen your face before around the hospital. Are you a clinical student here?"

"No. I'm not yet a clinical student but I do read around Old CHS."

"Wow. Really? Where are you going let me drop you off nau."

"I stay off campus and my place is just a few blocks after the gate ahead. Thank you for the offer, but it is not necessary."

"No nau, it's nothing."

Prof tries to open the door to the seat beside him, but Ade stops him.

"I insist sir. I can't enter your car. Thank you for the offer."

"Toor. If you say so. Girls of nowadays. Will you at least give me your number?"

Ade contemplated for a few seconds, then reeled off her WhatsApp number. He typed it into his phone and mumbled something.

"Thanks. I'll see you around," Prof said, revving his car and speeding off.

TWO

Barely two hours later, Prof called Ade after sending two WhatsApp texts that got delivered but she ignored them. Ade does not like calls, and she isn't comfortable talking to a stranger. Two more call attempts from Prof and she picked it up. He asked if she'd be coming back to campus but she declined. He said he wanted to see her again and after what seemed like an eternity on the call, they agreed to meet on a Friday at Skyland restaurant inside the teaching hospital.

On their first meeting, Prof was already there waiting for her. He placed an order for snacks and soda and ordered for her too. Afterwards, they discussed on several topics including personal information and tech, medicine, and life in general. At the end of the meeting, around 7 PM, Prof offered to drop Ayo at her place, and this time, it was difficult to refuse. From the meeting, Ayo learnt Prof was a consultant in internal medicine and was not as old as she thought he'd be. Also, Prof learnt about her age, and class, and talked about how he knew all her current lecturers. He went ahead to mention their names and some other impressive information about them.

On the drive home, Prof made his intention clear that he likes Ayo, and would like to have her around. Ayo did not say much. Her head was lost in thoughts: this wasn't what she hoped for herself. First, Prof is married with kids, they are both Muslims and what he suggested was beyond platonic friendship. She told him she'd need days to think about it. She chipped it in that Prof looked younger than his age and that she loved his well-groomed beards too. Prof smiled like a child receiving compliments for the first time, and when they got to the junction around Five Star, Ayo highlighted. She asked Prof where he stayed and he said Arkilla.

THREE

If anyone had told Ayo that she'd become this barely a month before she met Prof, not only would she vehemently deny it, she'd curse the person too. What started as an attraction developed quickly into a romance. Ayo, indeed liked Prof for quite several reasons: he dressed well and used one exquisite perfume, he complimented her a lot because of how she spoke, he was academically sound, and most importantly, Prof did not treat her like a child.

Ayo would learn that Prof's kids are not in the country at the moment, and his wife is abroad. Prof's house in Arkilla is managed by a guard and his own small family. Often, Prof spends time shuffling between Sokoto Abuja and Lagos.

The first time they were to have sex, Prof sought her consent explicitly. He did not play games with her. Prof had asked her to come over to his place and sent her twenty thousand naira to get him condoms when coming over. He asked her multiple times how old she was, made deductions by asking her other questions, and finally said he'd love to have sex with her.

Ayo refused and Prof did not push further. He asked one of the boys to go get them food from the Chicken Republic since Ayo complained that Skyland's food sucked. They ate in total silence and afterwards, Prof wanted to know if Ayo needed help in any of her courses. She informed him about her Renal Physiology and how it was difficult to learn much from the foreign teacher assigned to them. That night, Prof explained the micturition mechanism, renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system, and plasma control of extracellular fluid osmolarity like a pro. They passed the night together, cuddling.

Prof did not ask for the twenty thousand naira back. A week later, he raised the idea of sex. Prof reminded her that it was almost three months since they started going out. Ayo thought hard about it and finally gave in. That night, Prof sent her another twenty thousand naira. They would go on to be intimate many more times and each time, Prof would send her money afterwards and put food as the narration.

FOUR

When it was about two months before Ayo's exams, she informed Prof about it and asked that she not be disturbed. That was the first blow that struck their relationship. Prof thought Ayo saw their relationship as a mere disturbance. They had their first quarrel that evening and for days Ayo held out. She did not call the Prof and waited for his apology call. Prof did not call either. Four days later, Ayo sent a cryptic message and Prof replied. They met around the hospital gate and Prof took her home. This time, Ayo wanted to have the upper hand. She decided to show Prof what he'd miss if they should break up. She went wild that night and tried BDSM with Prof who liked it very much and wanted to do it again the next day.

For weeks she prepared for her exams, did overnight reading, went for group discussions, and would ignore Prof anytime he raised the idea of coming over for sex. Nonetheless, she tried to keep the romance alive via virtual means. Once, she sent view-once raunchy videos to Prof and begged him to give her the time to concentrate. Prof would go on to rant about how the exams before her weren't serious one and that her coming over to see him would not be the reason not to pass.

Ayo's exams came and it was intense. She had done her best and was hopeful, and at the same time fearful. She feared that she had not done enough. She prayed and prayed. She informed Prof who told her he'd work on it, and indeed, worked on it. Ayo passed within the fifties range.

FIVE

Things soon began to not augur well. Ayo's relationship with Prof started to go off in many ways. In her own words, Prof gaslights very often, holds too much power over her and she couldn't say no to his intense sexual urges. She likes him for many things including the fact that he spends decently on her, but she hates the idea that Prof isn't someone she could say no to. Academically, Prof helped her, financially, he footed a huge chunk of her bills. Ayo doesn't like that Prof was very dismissive of the idea of taking her in as a second wife, lords over her most often, and sometimes expresses weird mood swings.

It has been a week since Ayo called it quits with Prof. She had gone to his office that day and broke the news to him. She did not delete his contact, she did not block him. Radio silence from both ends. Once in a while, Ayo curiously went over their old chats until one day she took the courage and deleted it all. Afterwards, she blocked him everywhere.

Now, she goes to the teaching hospital daily with one prayer: to not have to cross paths with Prof.

The ìyàwó ilé which is basically the name given to every daughter-in-law gathers somewhere in the large kitchen at the end of the compound still debating how they will cook the jollof or whether to prepare the Amala first, since Àgbà Akin's visitors would make their way into the compound right from the Eid prayer grounds.

Rashidatu & Mulikatu, the youngest amongst them are already boiling yam & making stew & eggs. That is the tradition. Everybody in the house eats yam & eggs & stew before going for Eid, every year.

Alhaja Moriamo, the matriarch of the house, is on the phone with the tailor. Broda Kazeem disappoints every year, but there is no one else capable of sewing the kind of Mecca style abaya that she wears. How else is she supposed to pepper Alhaja Sekinatu, her market competitor today?

Boda Kazeem pleads for extra 40 minutes, claims that kerosene finished in the generator whilst he was helping her iron the clothes. Claims he is done with the sewing even though there is a small embroidery left to do, but the large white scarf will cover that side. That he would be at their gate very soon.

Àgbà Akin sends Ibrahimo, his last son & the husband of Mulikatu, to quickly go carry all the drinks he had paid for at King of Boys CoolSpot since a week ago. Today may be Eid but Allah forbids that Àgbà Akin, the bàbà Adinni of Lagos, hosts his friends & colleagues & well-wishers today but there is no surplus of alcohol & malts & soft drinks to go round.

Tayelolu, the first son did not come home last night, & Sodiki, his cousin is in Àgbà Akin's room to tell on him. They said they saw him at the brothel with some girls. Àgbà Akin is furious & cussing. He is threatening hell & high water, he says he'll cut him off his inheritance & disown him. Àgbà Akin is coughing & his veins are visible.

Moriamo hears the noises coming from Agba Akin's room & rushes to his bedside to calm him down. Moriamo eyes Sodiki, calls him a basket mouth. She tells him to go & focus on his own wife who is yet to experience motherhood & act like a man such that Khadijatu will carry a child from dawn to dusk in her belly.

The ìyàwó ilé are almost done coking, so they fetches their kids to go dress them up for Eid. Biliki, the eldest daughter-in-law & wife of Tayelolu, decides to go inform the remaining members of the household that breakfast is ready.

She walks to the last quarter of rooms in the compound & without knocking, opens the door leading into Ashiata's room. Then she screams so loud. So loud such that everyone in the compound runs towards her.

Ashiata is Àgbà Akin's youngest wife & the same age as Ibrahimo. Right there on the bed is Ashiata with Alhaji Sumaila, Àgbà Akin's junior brother, having some steaming, early morning, orgasm-inducing lovemaking. The kind of sex that attracts Alihamdulilahi, indeed all praises belongs to Allah instead of Awusubilai, I find safety and protection from Allah against the antics and manipulations of the devil.

The fornicating duo rises up quickly trying to cover their nakedness but Bilikisu's scream already called everyone's attention on them. Àgbà Akin, a man of seventy-two years old, walks into the room, sees the carnage that is ongoing, rushes towards his brother in a fit of rage.

His left leg kicks the yellow, custard bucket of urine, lying at the foot of the bed. He slumps face flat into the urine, & couldn't breathe & couldn't get up & couldn't move.

Pandemonium breaks loose somewhere in the heart of Lagos.

The first year of medical school is always a blitz. You really don’t do much save for the basic sciences, a couple of general studies, and yeah, if your school is like mine, they’d throw in a couple of advanced biology just to roughen you up a bit.

You will pass with distinctions. Everyone does. In fact, on the day your final results come out, you will see a few people with a 5.0 CGPA, tens of 4.98 and the lowest CGPA would be 4.5. Basically, it is normal for medical students to finish their first year with a first class. This is why they get shortlisted for many scholarships afterwards.

In your first year, you will attend zero classes and you’ll still cop those A’s. They’ll come naturally, like you were created with a different kind of brain. You’ll feel special when you see your friends in sciences and education complaining about the courses after your exams at the Prometric Exam Hall. And then, there’s you who did not even finish reading the handouts yet scoring A’s.

It is Year One and everyone is still kinging on their own lane. You will write your final exams in February, and as expected, think your break should be six months or longer. You’ll express shock when your Class Rep comes to the group in April to announce that the posting letter is out and that lectures begin in May.

This will rudely wake everyone because here, in your medical school, you can’t move into a new class until the current occupants of that class are promoted. And your resumption means they’d be two Year 2 sets. They will paste the list of those who are promoted to this new class and only 2 people out of your classmates will not make it.

You–unfazed and unprepared–will reshuffle your existence in preparation for the second year of medical school.

2

On the first day of classes – a physiology class – you will wake up late and find yourself inside the 500-capacity lecture hall with other glistening-eyed medical students. The lecture is an introductory one and is more of orientation than a normal class. Everyone will be on their Sunday's best except you. On that day, your first class as a preclinical student, you look like someone that was roughly woken up, thrown into clothes, and dragged to go listen to Zee Baby teach Physiology.

Afterwards, you’ll start community medicine classes. The anatomy department does not have your class’ time yet; they have two sets preparing for their promotional exams so your class must wait. The medical biochemistry department won’t even recognize your presence yet. And physiology department would extremely stretch the introductory part of the course. All these delays were to round up with the senior classes before giving attention to your class.

So, you’ll do community medicine majorly. Frequently, the senior classes would pick on your class and call you people names. Some lecturers would also attempt to scare you with only half of you will proceed to the next class, we will weed you out, many of you don’t deserve to be here and other depressing talk. The old Year2 class would eventually sit for their promotional exams and 46 out of the 190 students would repeat and join your class.

You will look at their results and think it was poor preparation that made 70% of their class fail BCH. You’ll tell yourself that your own case will be different. That it can’t ever be you. The senior, senior colleagues will hold bouts of orientations for your class. They’d tell you guys a lot of invaluable things. They’d hammer on the need to start reading early but you’d think it was over-exaggeration based on the stories they shared.

The pass mark is 50, how hard could it be to get that? You are used to scoring 92/100 in Yr1, so how difficult is it to score 50/100 now?

Classes won’t start properly until August and a quarter of your classmates still blame the Rep for the early resumption. Here is when your suffering would start and it would be multi-factorial.

First, you did not do the pre-reading your seniors had been emphasizing, so when classes start it won’t be too smooth because the lecturers will assume you have a little bit of background knowledge. It won’t help matters that almost all your classmates are ahead of you in terms of reading and offered positive confirmation when the lecturers assumed that you’ve learned something.

This is when you begin to hate some of your classmates, since some of them would make it their life’s mission to intimidate those of you who are still clueless.

Anatomy dissections will never look like what's inside your Atlas. And the gross would not be as grossing as you thought. Physiology lectures would be part comic relief and part business. But what you’ll despise the most is 8:00 AM classes and you missed them a lot. Biochemistry will not start on time and it wasn’t until the middle of the session before you have a grasp of what the heck that course is about.

3

The first serious test you’d write is introductory physiology and you would end up with a ridiculous score of 37/100. It would look like a film trick to you. Actually, you knew you did badly in the incourse because of the negative marking in place. Also, you did not fully revise before the test because Anatomy was already pressing your neck.

It is introductory physiology and it is just about cells, so you did not give it the needed attention. That would be your first F and it would hit you hard. You’d cry to the DM of your best friend and she would console you. She would remind you about how much greatness you carry and that there is always the chance to do better. You’d also take solace in the fact that your score isn’t the lowest in the class and feel gut-wrenched that there were people who scored 80’s on that same test.

You will shake off the feeling and pay attention to your other incourses. Anatomy’s first incourse is Upper Limb and you vow not to be caught unprepared. So you attended more dissections and waited behind to study all the cadavers. Formalin would almost gorge your eyes out but you won’t mind. When the results come out, you’d have a 57/100 and feel okay. At this point, you just want to have 50 and move on.

You never once envisage yourself as the class best or one of the hypers. In fact, a couple of your classmates would tell you that your lifestyle is more befitting of an MFA creative writing student than a second-year med student. You’d tell them that you belong here and have what it takes to do medicine.

Physiology second incourse would come and you would do better. You’d realize your mistakes from the first test and this time, put everything in you into physiology. You read the handouts back to back multiple times, formed your own notes, and memorized steps and values. The test was 12 essay questions and you wrote so much as 3.5 complete foolscap sheets. You wrote so much, your hands ached at the end of the test but when the result came out, it was 56/100.

In October, three months into the gruelling workload of med school, you’d be so burnt out that you would pick up your phone, call for an emergency family meeting and break down into tears before announcing that you are no more interested in this medicine. Your family would hold you down, and do a series of interventions for you. They would support you in all ways possible and tell you to just push harder. They’d beg you to finish the session and if you still felt like dropping out afterwards, there would be no questions asked.

So, you changed your orientation. You tell yourself that you will put in the work but if the results are not correlating with your effort, you’d gracefully bow out rather than be withdrawn from school.

4

Towards the end of the session, after a bout of tests and their results were out, you’d realize quite a few things about your studies. You performed considerably well in all the assessments that involve essays; you did badly in some of your MCQ types of assessment; you love practical sessions except anatomy dissections; you have a fairly decent memory and can recall structured texts. And you don’t forget answers to MCQ questions that you failed and got corrected.

Earlier in the session, you used to talk to almost everyone in your class. You were the extrovert, living-in-the-moment type of student. You don’t put too much emphasis on grades, you think everyone is one big potential and try to be nothing but accommodating. To see people beyond what they present.

However, you would slowly realize that a noticeable percentage of your classmates are indeed retards who operate beneath the realm of human comprehensibility. You would meet ridiculously selfish individuals who hoard vital information from the rest of the class.

You’d meet the cliques of dumbasses who carry themselves with this tinge of i-am-better-than-you-academically. You’d meet the subservient girls and the too-proud-to-respond-to-your-greeting geng. You’d meet the intrusive ones with an IQ of a door knob who’d lift your posts from social media and bring them to the class group for discussions.

You’d meet the users who are only interested in what they could get from you. You’d meet the liars, the jokers, the ones who just don’t fit anywhere. You’d meet the overly competitive, cutthroat, and just plain wicked classmates. You’d meet people who don’t mind sabotaging others as long as they move ahead.

You will also meet classmates who are absolutely top human beings for real. The kind ones; the bookish ones; the ones that are CPU of all available past Q; the ones that form notes for everyone. You will meet the motivational speakers. All these amazing people will be the anchor on your worst days. You’ll fall out with friends and patch up with some. You will learn, albeit not too quickly, to see your class as what it truly is – a wild mix of good, bad, and uglies.

At the end of the session, you have re-evaluated not only yourself but the kind of relationships you want to be involved in. At the end of the session, you’d feel comfortable with the majority of your test results. However, you still lack a lot in terms of reading capacity and how much work you have to cover.

In December 2023, your New Year goals will include coming up with strategies and sticking to them. You tell yourself you needed just a few day's break and start 2024 differently. Until things started to get real. Until your Class Rep came with the announcement.

It is the last days of March 2024. A few days after you finish your promotional exams, you will sit down and ruminate about how your second year went. You remember all the big things you did.

In 2023 you served: as Local Officer for NiMSA; as associate editor-in-chief of your medical students association; ran for an executive post in the MSA; led creative groups. In 2024: you became a research assistant and a local officer for NiMSA; you planned and executed multiple awareness walks; attended scientific conferences; writing workshops; became a member of all the clubs you wanted to join.

You are indeed living your 2024 prospectus, and in the words of the Olórí Ebi of SWEMSA “Don't let anyone deceive you, all of you belong here.”

Indeed, you belong here.

For the first three days after the fine job, my face was badly swollen and itchy and sore. The right eye was totally shut, and I could not chew with the right corner of my mouth. I carried it to write my test like that — although I must admit the test shook me a bit, nonetheless, I'll keep my shirt on. The bigger war comes in March.

As I said in the previous newsletter, this was not the biggest health challenge I've faced, but it was the first I'd be experiencing far from home. My family were calling at least six times per day. Videos calls. Chats. I was swamped for the first week of my recovery.

Arnold visited every evening for the first three to four days. Don brought food & paid for my drugs. My classmates & senior colleagues brought fruits, called, visited me at home, reached out, helped with academic course work, and so many other things. Tuzid made sure I had water at home during the first three days. Aarinola, Asiwaju, my own OGs were there for me too.

The kindness of family, friends, and invaluable support system.

On the seventh day post suturing, they removed the stitches and the doctor said I did a good job taking care of the wound. It was cleaned, reassessed, and redressed. I was also weaned off some antibiotics. While I was waiting, I had the opportunity to theoretically explain venepuncture to one of the bright-eyed, newbie nursing students. I felt proud.

This evening, I removed the final bandages. Had a warm bath, and for the first time in the last ten days, I could use soap and water on my face. And oh boy, yeah, I've really got two scars to tell this story properly. I must admit that I've really, really got good genes, because how did I manage to stay beautiful?

Anyway, this might be the last newsletter I'll be writing until after my exams in March. I cannot repay all the forms of tenderness I've received, however, I do hope that on our weakest days, may we find strength and grace to bounce back.

The time is 12:16AM and the date is February 15th as I write this. I know I should be sleeping, or revising or doing anything helpful to my recovery, but I must write. I must write because I am a writer. Because I don't want to forget any part of what happened to me in the last 24 hours. Because Grandma would say ọmọdun melo ni ẹ tó ti ń gbàgbé nkan; how old are you that your memories are already at war with amnesia. So for me to beat forgetfulness, I do the basic chore of writing everything down. So I don't forget. So I don't get misunderstood. So that they live forever.

1.

My MTN line got barred several weeks ago. I have procrastinated a lot about going to retrieve the line. However on February 14, 2024, I decided to visit the closest MTN office and have the issue resolved. I walked to AK's place, borrowed his bicycle around 9:30AM and promised to return before 12PM. We even joked that if he did not see me by then, he should call me or report to the nearest police station. I sped off to my destination. My ride was uneventful: got to the place, payed for parking, walked in and had the whole sim issue resolved within an hour. I was told to wait for four hours before using the new sim. I paid, then left. The time was 11:20AM. Since I was on bicycle and I don't want to loose anything, my phone, wallet, documents were all inside a black backpack firmly strapped to my back. I started my journeying back home.

2.

If you are familiar with the layout of the road from Usmanu Danfodiyo University Teaching Hospital to the Sokoto State Government House to City Campus, my explanations would be clearer to you. Anyway, there's a big roundabout a few meters after the MTN office, going round this junction is the road that leads to the government house. While I was about crossing, I almost collided with a large white van that was coming from the adjacent road. I thought the van was going round the roundabouts, which was the same way I was going. Unknown to me, it was heading straight and I crossed it. I missed the whole collision by a hair's breath.

Less than 10 meters from the potential site of a bigger road accident, I rammed my bicycle on a stationary car in front of Civil Service Commission. I had entered the road of the government house, and all I did was look back for a second, to check whether the white van that almost hit me was coming in my direction or had followed another way. The right handle of the bicycle struck the car by the side and I somersaulted off the bicycle and landed face first on the back windshield of the car. It felt like film trick; like I had been picked up by a giant force and thrown to a car.

(I was coming from purple arrow direction. The green circle was where I almost collided with the white van which went upward to A126. The red circle was where I rammed into a stationary car.)

3.

Within split seconds half of my face was covered with blood and glass particles lodged on my skin. The owner of the car and the man with him came down. The bicycle was off a few distance away from me, across the road. My nose mask was soaked with blood, and the glass shards had cut my face in three places: one on my eyelid that missed my eyeball by just a few centimeters; two deeper cut on my right cheek which was the major site of impact on landing on the car windshield. The car owner came out angry, was speaking loudly in Hausa and I was soaking up with blood. I did not lose consciousness however I was disoriented for a while.

When I could speak, I told him I am a medical student at the teaching hospital and I'm deeply sorry for hitting his car. I called the president of my medical students association and AK immediately. The car owner who was now calmer brought out a bottle of water from the car and helped me wash my hand. Because of the severity of the lacerations on my face and with glasses involved, I did not want to wash my face until I get to the hospital. So I used my handkerchief to cover the injuries and at the same time pressing it hard to stop the bleeding. I think I must have lost about 300 - 500 ml of blood.

4.

While we waited for the people I called to show up, many things was running through my mind. I've landed in trouble; I may have to get to a police station; I'd be needing stitches; how to settle the car damages; why did the universe conspire against me to make me go fix my SIM today. A small group had gathered. AK arrived first on bike, after looking at my wounds and even though I was incoherent, he started talking to the car owners. The president also arrived just a few minutes later. At this point, I was feeling fainter, and really did not know much. Another student whose face seemed familiar was riding his own bicycle saw the scene, stopped and assisted me into the president's car. I do not know his name but I'd definitely recognize him if I see him again. AK went with the car owner to the auto mechanic shop for the repairs while the president drove me to the Trauma Centre of my university teaching hospital.

Before we got there, he made some calls and I was admitted. Within minutes of getting to Trauma, I saw classmates, senior colleagues, and other people coming to check up on me. As students, they'd come, say a couple of prayers, offer their support and leave afterwards. Another group would come in few minutes later, and it went on and on up until when I was treated and discharged. My classmates brought fruits, electrolytes, water, and everything I needed. As I write this, I feel immensely grateful to everyone in my med school.

5.

At this point DON had arrived at the centre and stayed with me all through. He was also in communication with AK and was informing me as it goes. My phone was with DON and he became the point source till I left the hospital.

The doctor who attended to me was a professional. He knew all what he had to do, and had a swarm of student nurses around him for support. This was the hardest part of the incident for me: getting treated. The doctor flushed the wounds for broken bottles and was informing the nursing students about everything he was doing each step of the way. The young nurses were also professional, they knew their onion. I had to be stitched but before that, I had to take a couple of injections. It's not a lie if I say I don't like needles. I had a couple of stitches across all the lacerations.

DON said the stitches were fine and hopefully I'd have not too big scarring. Faymous, Khadija, Mimi came around and stayed for a long while. They informed me of the Renal Physiology result that came out and we discussed for a while. I got more tired and tried to sleep. When I woke up, Hikmat was back and she stayed till I was discharged. She and Don joked about how I must write poems about this incident, we did some anatomy discussion too. As I write now, I have an anatomy incourse on Friday (Feb 16th). Hopefully, I pray I'm strong enough to write it.

6.

The president came around to check up on me again, same as the car owner and AK. Later in the evening, DON and Hikmat went out to get the drugs. Faymous stayed back and we started differential diagnosis on the other patients that were brought in after me. Another doctor came to take my history and wrote my discharge papers. The doctor who attended to me initially walked by and told me to come back in a week's time. I left trauma around 4PM in the company of friends and went home to eat, take my medication, and sleep. Of course, some of my classmates took pictures of me with the funny bandages across my face.

Arnold came around 8PM and stayed very late. In his words and quoting the Game of Throne Series, he said, “What do we say to the god of Death?” And I responded: “Not today”.

7

I am very grateful for what happened today. I missed a big accident. Got involved in another one barely 30 seconds later. I did not lose an eyeball. All the damages have been offset. I got treatment. At my lowest moments today, I had people around me — senior colleagues, friends, family, classmates, even students I barely know from other classes came around. Those who couldn't visit called, reached out, etc. I got home and still received visits from my neighbours. Save for when I had my cancer surgery in 2015, this is the second biggest trauma I've experienced in my life and I'm just contented that it did not take my life.

While I was admitted at Trauma Centre, a lot happened that I cannot say due to confidentiality. I saw people in worse condition; I was optimistic for them but deep down was scared too. I hone I never have to repay this kind of debt that I owe everyone. I pray everything good will come.

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NB: I will try to keep this post short… that may turn out to be a lie.

2023 SUMMARY

I knew this year was going to be a lot since I did my crossover on the road. Then February came with resumption and since then I have not rested. I had few wins this year – partly because I did less – but all my wins are mind-blowing. As I write this, my Guyton textbook of medical physiology is half opened, I have 3 different presentation tabs opened, and I am listening to Seyi Vibez. Becauseee everything here wants to unalive me and I am not going to agree.

I did the littlest this year. I was on conservatory mode; it was just med school and attempting to live to see the next day. Barely hung out; declined so many creative hangouts and found a way to always put my coursework as excuse.

SCHOOL

My biggest source of anxiety is Medical school. Gosh! What am I doing here? Is it that I love pain? Who even pushed me to collect form sef? Don’t get me wrong, I love medicine. I think I have not loved anything more than the opportunity to learn about the human body. I love books, I just don’t love how medicine is taught in Nigerian med school.

The time is so short and what we are to cover is just overwhelming. At first, I was working towards deep understanding – yunno, I sit on a topic and not leave it until I fully understand such topic in a way that I can teach it unprepared. But med school laughed at my foolishness, and said, “Is like you want to fail! You will just fail danu danu”. And yeah, I’m not kidding, because guys, I did fail.

My first test in medical school was physiology – cell physiology. It was the cheapest test in school and guess what? I failed it. like, I literally had the second lowest score in the class with 37/100 (there was negative marking). I cried ehn, oh my God, I cried so much that now I laugh anytime I remember it. Why did I fail? Well, I failed to revise because, I mean, it’s cell. I have been learning about cell since JS2. The time I was supposed to use to read revise, I spent it unwisely.

Lesson: treat all tests like they are exams and at worst I’ll insert (score the minimum pass mark of 50/100). And yeah, that’s how I have been winging it.

Another issue with school is the structure. This curriculum and how it is structured favours “la cram la pour”. I come from OAU where we spend a semester doing spaced coursework and 4 hours exam. Here in med school, we are doing “you must learn the whole of human anatomy in 18 months and writing 12 essay questions in 1 hour”.

My handwriting has gone from beautiful to struggling to “make lecturer no vex o, I no fit dey spell in full”. I am always sweating inside the hall because there is just no time; I am always struggling to finish answering before time is up; and because there is just so much to write – our assessments are not tailored to know who really understands but who really can recall the most – I am always feeling inadequate.

I do not plan to practice medicine in the traditional settings of seeing patients. My interest lies within the intersection of medicine and microbiology and writing. I see myself either in academia or research within the areas of community medicine or oncology.

WRITING

I did not write much this year: wrote less than 20 poems, made less than 10 submissions and I can't recount how many acceptances came in this year. Whilst I was able to score a few publications, I did meet few other writers. I wrote more poetry than short-stories.

I got published on KSR, I have works forthcoming in an anthology with Griots Lounge, and a couple of others wins. I won Agbowó's merch on Twitter. Surprise surprise the sweatshirt is still in Lagos. In fact, I have a number of things in Lagos that I can't wait to bring back during the break.

I workshopped with Abubakar Adam Ibrahim in July thanks to Sokoto Books and Arts Foundation. The literary hangout and the next-day workshop is still my favourite literary activity this year. I met awesome people during the event. I attended SOBAF's Night of Performance, which was the last program on the 3rd day of this year's SOBAFest. I read one of my works, met new and old faces, and of course the Aarinola factor.

I did less of copywriting this year. The only reason I still get job referrals is because I'm good at what I do. 2024, I'll try to go from freelance copywriting to corporate copywriting. I need me some stability.

Joey and I have something small planned and I can't wait to see how much out little experiment would impact our growth as writers.

BOOKS

There were years I used to boast of reading 80+ books, this year, I struggled to read 47 which was less impressive since I read about 60 in 2022. All the books I read this year came from Nigerian Bookworms - a WhatsApp group of crazy book readers, Joey, Aarinola, and TBO's Booklovers - another WhatsApp group of cray cray people.

I'm mostly addicted to African literature, poetry, and non-fiction. I only read self-help when I'm at a crossroad. I read so much poetry this year as a substitute for books. I can't list all the books I read this year, but here are my top recommendations in no particular order:

Short Stories Collection

Dreams and Assorted Nightmares - Abubakar Adam Ibrahim

Interpreter of Maladies - Jhumpa Lahiri

God's Children Are Little Broken Things - Arinze Ifeakandu

A Broken People's Playlist - Chimeka Garricks

What It Means When A Man Fall From The Sky - Lesley Nneka Arimah

Becoming Nigerian - Elnathan John

Of This Our Country: Acclaimed Nigerian writers on the home, identity, and culture they know.

Novel

Vagabonds - Eloghosa Osunde

Waiting For An Angel - Helon Habila

I Do Not Come To You By Chance - Adaobi Tricia Nwaubuani

The Death of Vivek Oji - Akwaeke Emezi

Love In Colour - Bolu Babalola

When We Were Fireflies - Abubakar Adam Ibrahim

When Breathe Becomes Air - Paul Kalanithi

Self Help/ Non Fiction

The Psychology of Money - Morgan Housel

Atomic Habits - James Clear

Who Will Cry When You Die - Robin Sharma

The Stolen Daughters of Chibok - Aisha Muhammad-Oyebode

Poetry

Rose Ash by Samuel A. Adeyemi and Heaven is a Metaphor (same author)

Memento: An Anthology Of Contemporary Nigerian Poetry – Adedayo Agarau (editor)

Your Crib, My Qibla – Saddiq Dzukogi

Chrysanthemums For Wide-eyed Ghosts - Echezonachukwu Nduka

Helium - Rudy Francisco

Love Is My Saviour: The Arabic Poems of Rumi

Calling A Wolf a Wolf - Kaveh Akbar

On Earth We Are Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

Depression and Other Magic Tricks - Sabrina Benaim

PEOPLE & RELATIONSHIP

There are so many amazing individuals in my life at this moment that it'll be exhausting writing about them all. I think I grew in terms of my relationship with people. I now let things go so quickly and in turn, hurt way lesser than holding on or trying to patch broken china and getting cut. I made newer friends; I relate with people better; I'm quite approachable; and as the anonymous messages I hosted suggested, I have a way of making people feel special.

And maybe that just a part of my longing for what I've always wanted — to feel special. Earlier this year, I saw a quote about saying to people thing you wish they'd say to you. I think that's one of the key reasons I write: the ability to do things with words.

I don't have an intimate circle of friends, rather, I share familiar bonds with a large number of people. I think friendship like any form of relationship needs real maintenance to work, and I'm not in the right frame of mind to be as vulnerable as I was in the middle of this year. I got into a friendship in the middle of this year that almost destroyed all my years of building self esteem and psyche. I saw gaslighting promax. Thank God for Asiwaju who saved me. (I'll write a nonfiction about it sometimes next year when I've properly healed).

I broke up with my partner in February and I've not been in any relationship since. It was one of my best relationships and I still blame myself for how awry it ended. However, since I realized my faults and in the bid to becoming a better person, I reached out and apologized, and we've made peace but it still hurts sha but I'm glad they are happy. It is very obvious we can't be together anymore, as they are now in the US for graduate studies, nonetheless, we are still friends.

FINANCES

I think I was more stable this year than 2022. 2019 and 2020 were still my most financially liquid year — I worked the most those years. I was never hungry this year; there was always food at home and money to satisfy small small cravings. I cooked a lot this year, I did not try newer dishes sha. Bill wise, people came through for me at my direst hours and I'm forever grateful for that.

I was able to save more by spending less and buying in bulk. I did not invest anything o — na person whey don chop dey invest. Food took the largest chunk of my spendings, then books, housing, my regular bills, and transportation.

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

I received an appointment from the Nigerian Medical Students Association (NiMSA) — I served as the Local Officer for NiMSA' Technical Office on Cancer Awareness and Advocacy for my med school association this year. It was fun, exhausting, but yeah, I'll do it all over again. We organized outreaches, carried out sensitization and awareness programs. I was in meetings after meetings; I was requested for everywhere.

I'm currently serving as the Associate Editor in Chief of the Usmanu Danfodiyo University Medical Students Association. I edit all of the MSA's newsletters since inception and I can't describe how much joy it is leading multiple groups and having literary discussions. I am always in my EIC's DM; no one can really get enough of the amazing aura of Rosha.

I ran for an executive position in the MSA and lost early this year. Oh tears upon tears, I'm kidding. It was a learning opportunity and my classmates really surprised me at the polls. Again, I relive the memories of the election period and I can't be more proud of Nexus Doctores. I won't be contesting next year, but my eyes are wandering on the inexhaustible list of capacitated people in my class who'd be contesting, and I'm definitely going to throw my weight behind them.

2024 PROSPECTUS

I can't say with certainty what would happen to me in 2024, but I'm sure it'll be a year better than 2023. I am not going in with a grand to-do list, I don't have world-breaking or record-shattering achievements in mind; what I do wish for is the little joys and sometimes filtered-out happiness that comes with living.

I don't want the days of next year to come jabbing at me fast, leaving be bedazzled. I want them simple, sweet, I want my next year to be incredibly soft irrespective of what anybody thinks.

Although I did less of all the things I loved doing, 2024 is going to change that. I'll pass my Medical Board exams. I'll write fearlessly and unhinged. I'll make more money. I'll be there for my people. I'll do everything I want to do and yes, nothing will be sacrificed.

In 2024, I'll be HIM.

The Match is an algorithm that pair intending medical residents in the US with prospective hospital for their residency training. Basically, the residents having sat for a series of licensing exams, interviews, and other requirements, would proceed to the ranking portal and submit a list of the hospitals they wish to practice in a hierarchal order. The hospitals too, having interviewed all their prospective residents, evaluated their results, would proceed to rank all the students in a hierarchal order. Then the algorithm would consider all the inputs, and match the prospective residents into one hospital each. Those who are unable to match would undergo a supplementary process called SOAP.

Since the match results came out came out days ago several institutions had been under intense scrutiny and fire and one of these schools is STANFORD UNI. Here are two screenshots of two specialty in Stanford: Surgery and Radiology. As you can see from the picture, all those who matched into Radiology are 100% MALES and those who got into surgery are 92% FEMALES.

This announcements started several arguments on twitter and was a means to rehash other issues surrounding medical education. There are different opinions on these results and some are as follows: Stanford hates white men which is why no white male was accepted into surgery residency, some believed the only way those ladies made it into the list was because they were diversity hires and were filling a quota, hence, they were not the most qualified but were fillers. Some brought the research article of Association of American Medical Colleges that showed that there are way less female surgeons than male. Other articles presented were papers saying patients have a greater survival chances if their surgeons were females.

Now, here is where things get messy. Of course, Stanford might have ranked their female applicants higher, but the major consideration of the algorithm is the schools the applicants ranked higher. So applicant’s choice gets more consideration than the hospital’s choice. That is, all the people who got into Stanford residency most likely ranked it their first choice and the algorithm considered that.

Secondly, it takes grit, hard work, and academic excellence to finish medical school. This means that all the applicants to a particular benchmark score had the academic qualification to match into the specialties they filled in for. However, other non-standardized factors affects how candidates match. A candidate may have 250 in the exam but did poorly in the interview. Like that, his chances of being matched at that particular hospital becomes lower because by the time the hospital would rank him, he might be lower on their own list. Apart from the exam and interviews other factors considered might include criteria like leadership experience, volunteering, CV, academic records whilst in medical school, etc.

I believe medicine should be merit-based. Irrespective of your race or gender or religion or sex, as long as you meet the required criteria, you should be able to study medicine and match into your performance-based residency choice. I do not believe that any of the ladies performed poorly but got in based on their gender or race. Yes, representation matters in medicine – just like in any other field, but we cannot sacrifice representation for competency. We cannot say because we want more females in medicine, then accept all the females who applied irrespective of their qualifications then deny all the males who applied irrespective of their qualification. Stanford would not be that inconsiderate to choose to train low-performing students in lieu of high-performing students.

A doctor is the bridge between life and death for a patient and it is necessary that they must have received all the necessary training. Also, the current statistics showed that there are more females in the US medical school than males. I am not surprised that more females matched into Stanford surgery than males. We should encourage levelling the playing field for everyone and letting the most competent win.