I was at ground zero yesterday on a private visit. This was truly the premier facility for private health care delivery in the country.
Well located within the hubris of commercial high brow Nigeria, once proud and grabbed it position at the top and moved beautifully and arrogantly like a young virgin in the eye of many a randy suitor
Then she passed. Public anger hit like a tsunami, and all hell broke loose.
Today, I see restrained caution as I walk into its still beautiful and neat compound. I had come for a private visit to one of its promoters, and I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
As I was ushered in, the phone rang. Can you help us talk to the patient? “the other doctor on the other line said.
She did. He wanted to travel to the UK, but the child was not well enough. His blood level was kind of low and he may not have been able to take the flight.
The parent insisted, claiming not to have funds, and I wonder why the ticket money, although already paid, would distract from this search for health.
I listened as she tried so hard to convince the man to stay for treatment. She needn’t have bothered; he was more interested in whatever was taking him to the UK.
She dropped the phone and looked at me in calm frustration. This is our lot. The public never sees this side, she quipped.
I look into her strained and tired eyes. Edgar, it’s been hard. We are being squeezed. The inquest is ongoing. We did everything professionally possible.
We were all here. We tried our very best, but this happened. They wanted to go for our jugular, led by an old adversary who was being fueled by the bile of ancient angst.
The professionalism is not lost on me. As she speaks to me, she keeps glancing at my bad eye. Intermittently, she will say, “Are you sure you are getting good care for that eye? It looks messed up.”
I will say, “don’t worry about me. I am in a good place.
She looked worried, and deliberately so. She had given her life to these years of providing top hedge healthcare, and now this tusnami of public revolt?
As she spoke, she surveyed her empty waiting room. This used to be full to the brim, she quipped with sad but determined eyes.
I liked her. Beneath that seeming delicateness, I could see the steely determination that led her and her partners on this journey. Her sincerity shown through, her courage under fire, unmistakably makes me believe very strongly that this too shall pass.
Her major regret was his absence. He would have sorted this out. He was a brilliant mind. Her hands are clean. He is a people person and he would have sorted this out.
She looked at the bench where he used to sit and wait for her, and at that moment, she kind of broke because she knew it would have been OK.
As I took my leave, I felt the need to use the gents and was directed to three, which gave me a quick cursory inspection of the facility and an urgent engagement with at least three staff, and I came out of this quick experience with nice confidence.
As I walked past, I asked myself, “Would I use Premier Hospital as a man who had also lost his wife under funny circumstances?” and the answer wasn’t hesitant, “YES.”
I sense a rebirth. I sense validation and I sense renewed growth once all this is over.
Things happen, but healing on all sides will and must happen for the betterment of society.
Who are we to ask questions when destiny decides to play with our fate?
The Shomolu Duke
