A BRODA'S PAIN

C is for cancer
By Toni Kan

MY brother, Charles Emeka Onwordi, (February 2, 1968 - December 21, 2009) would have been 42 today as I write this tribute to his short but eventful life. Trained as a Fine Artist at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, we graduated the same year even though there was an almost four-year age difference between us and schooling together in close proximity, I at Jos and he in Zaria, meant that we soon became more of peers than older and younger brother but no matter how close we got, he still remained Broda to me.

My brother had been ill for close to a year for what was diagnosed as pile or Haemorrhoids. He fluctuated between periods of wellness and illness but it never went beyond a stomach ache or diarrhea. Then on December 19, 2009, he called me to say he was vomiting blood and I asked him to go see my doctor immediately. He drove there himself and was admitted but when I saw him the next day at the hospital, I experienced a sudden and inexplicable panic attack; my brother was at death's door.

The thought came to me without a diagnosis; the mere sight of my brother with his distended stomach and emaciated frame left me in tears and I remember walking downstairs blinded by my tears as I bawled like a baby. The last time I saw him was a mere 12 days earlier and in that short span of time my brother had undergone some severe depreciation. I hadn't yet gotten a grip of myself when I re-entered his room and one look at me and he said "You are crying for me, abi? So, what do you want me to do?"

Things moved pretty fast in the next few days. My doctor, a thorough and methodical man, who had seen him about three months earlier was upset that my brother never came back for the test he had asked him to undergo, didn't have a good prognosis. I recall his exact words: "I suspect he has a growth in his stomach which is causing a blockage. I just hope it is not malignant. You know what malignant is?" I know what malignant is but what is a man without hope. My brother underwent a CT Scan on Monday and by the time I walked into the hospital that Monday evening and was summoned to the doctor's consulting room, I suddenly realised that my life was about to change in a way I had never imagined.

The doctor showed me an x-ray film that had been placed against a light box. It turned out that he, not being an oncologist, had placed it wrongly. But the full picture would emerge a short while later when we were joined by another doctor, a surgeon who had been summoned from Lagos University Teaching Hospital (LUTH). The diagnosis was dire. My brother had Cancer of the Colon. It had spread or metastized from the Colon to the liver and latched on to a bone. The large intestine was completely gone so he could no longer pass waste. The immediate imperative was to open him up, drain the waste, perform a colonoscopy and drill a hole through his tummy from where he would pass waste. My brother's life was changing irreversibly too.
"How bad is this?" I asked sweeping aside all the arcane medical terms.
"Sit down," the doctor said and I did. My doctor for about nine years now, I have always trusted his judgement.

And so he told me what to expect. He said Cancer is a disease that destroys and impoverishes families and there is scant chance of the person getting better. He also said that right now, aside from Malaria and Road accidents, Cancer has become the third highest killer of young people in Nigeria. But he did add a caveat, "We are doctors, but we can never rule out miracles."
I left them and walked outside into the gathering dusk, tottering like a drunk. I was confused and depressed. My brother was just 41. He had a wife and three kids. The eldest, like mine, was just six going on seven. He was by every definition of the term, a young man.

I walked the length of the street, then sat on a slab and cried like a baby, the second doctor's words echoing in my head: "what we can talk about now is quality of life not quantity of life." The sub-text was clear, there was a shroud hanging over my brother's head; he was living on borrowed time. How much time, was what no one could say. My parents were upstairs and in the dark with regard to the diagnosis but I told the doctor I needed my brother to know. The doctors wanted to know if I was sure and I told them that my brother is a fighter and if he knows he will fight for his life the way a horse would; with all his strength.

So, we went upstairs, asked everyone to leave and told him. He was calm and his only question was: "When is the surgery? Tonight?" He didn't sleep that night. The pain and anxiety kept him awake and by 6am, he was already in the theatre. It lasted all of three hours and my brother was out looking rested, relieved and relaxed for the first time since he checked into that hospital. But it was a mirage. The cancer had done serious damage. I remember the surgeon wringing his hands as he spoke to me after the surgery. He was almost in tears. His eyes were red and he kept saying "Ah, he should have come earlier. He should have come earlier."
My brother's blood and system had been poisoned by the waste that had burst in his stomach. He was given powerful antibiotics and we were told that the next 24 hours were critical. His liver had also been damaged by the cancer which had spread all the way up and as we all know, we have only one liver. There is no spare unlike the kidney. He slept. He rested and we even spoke but by 7 p.m., everything went down hill as he went into what they call extremities. His blood pressure was fluctuating like a yoyo as his system began shutting down from Acute Septicemia or blood poisoning. It was heartbreaking to watch him expire in degrees. He cried, begging for water, as his lips caked over from dehydration. And for the first time since he took ill, I saw my brother show fear as he watched the doctors and nurses scurrying about looking for what to do to stabilise him. And as I watched them, I leaned close to him and said "Broda, you have fought this thing. Just pray and rest."

He died hours later in the intensive care unit of our hospital in Surulere. And his death threw up many issues for us. First, is the quality of health care in Nigeria and the parlous state of our health care system. A qualified doctor had treated him for over one year for pile while the actual disease, Cancer of the Colon ravaged his body, running wild and destroying healthy cells. It makes you wonder whether we now train butchers instead of life-savers.

Secondly, at about 8pm, the surgeon had suggested that we move him to another hospital where they had better Intensive Care equipment. There were two options. LUTH and a private hospital in Apapa. Calls were made. LUTH was available but there was no light. So, we were left with the private hospital option. They demanded a one million naira deposit. When we said we could afford it, another call was placed explaining his situation at which point, the hospital said they wouldn't accept him because the prognosis didn't look good and they didn't want to appear fraudulent.

The President can fly to Saudi Arabia, at our expense, where there are Intensive Care units every mile and the light never blinks. But how many of us hapless tax payers can walk into a government hospital and come out with an analgesic? That, not my brother's untimely and avoidable death, is the real tragedy. Happy 42nd birthday, Broda and rest in peace.

Toni Kan is a popular Nigerian writer,columnist and company executive

I SLEPT WITH A TIGER!! SO WHAT?

I am so full of pity for Tiger Woods,since he was caught by the tail of his bedmatics Tees.I just feel that we are being too quick to kill this Tiger.A case of casting the first stone,brothers? The guy was only being hu-MAN. Huh? Seriously,I think if we end up killing this Tiger,we just won't have another Tiger of this make again in the golf course anywhere in the world. Painfully,the guy has said he is taking a break off Golf.But,will it still be the same again when he decides to return? Don't think so.

CHRISTMAS TURNS YELLOW..

Telecoms giant, MTN Nigeria unveiled a grand pre-lit 40 feet Y’ello Christmas tree yesterday,Friday, December 4, 2009 at the courtyard of its Corporate Headquarters, Golden Plaza,Falomo-Ikoyi.,Lagos
The official unveiling was performed by the company's Chief Marketing & Strategy Officer, Bola Akingbade.It was fun all the way,especially as those who came for the occasion dressed with a touch of yellow colour won surprise gift items.
But know what?I missed the event by a stroke of fate,just the same way I missed being at 'The Experience' music festival at the TBS,Lagos.Let me leave that story for some other time.

Happy Yuletide season to ya all!

WALKING FOR HOPE

Christmas reminder.....

Dance drama at the Stadium

At Jibowu Bridge,Lagos

The walks front line

Conveying the messages

Happy volunteers

All 'Y'ello-ed up....

Been AWOL.Had so many things I have been sorting out that kept me off Blogsphere. But I am back now.

Was in Lagos,Saturday 21st November 2009 where I participated in The Great Hope Walk,an annual event organised by Hope Worldwide, aimed at focusing global attention on the plights of orphans and vulnerable children (OVC).

The 2009 Great Hope walk event which was funded by MTN Foundation, the philanthropic arm of the telecoms giant,MTN Nigeria,was marked with events in the six geo-political zones across the country-Lagos,Abuja,Cross River,Kogi,and Sokoto states.

The Lagos event was a 10km walk which started from the Maryland Roundabout,near the St. Agnes Catholic Church and finished at the National Stadium, Surulere. Among the Yellow T-Shirts adorning crowd made up of people of all works of life,mostly NGOs,schools,corporate and religious organisations, were many kids,some as little as 4-years old who saw the walk as an opportunity to catch real fun. I also sighted the charismatic Chief strategist and principal consultant of Adstrat BMC,Charles O'Tudor and ex-Soundcity TV and ex-Malta Guinness Street Dance anchor,Deji Falope was there with his power bike. I saw him using the Power bike to assist in traffic control during the walk all the way to the stadium.Nigerian Bottling Company,NBC had some of their personnels at hand to distribute free bottles of chilled Eva water .Participants were later entertained with a dance drama,music and jokes at the stadium.A raffle draw was also held.

Got this from an email sent in by a very dear friend.It's worth sharing.

WOULD YOU GO BACK?
You have this friend since Junior Secondary School and after SeniorSecondary School both of you lost contact with each other. But she is someone really special to you, and you're someone very special to her too.
Five years later you receive a phone call from her.
"Hi, I'll visit you" she says.
"Hi, Sue, when?" you ask her.
"Just wait for me" she replies.
It seems weird but you prepare for her coming anyway.
One rainy night you hear a knock on the door. And you're surprised to see that it's your friend Sue. Losing touch for ten years is so long and you start talking about everything. Then both of you even go to your room upstairs. Suddenly there is a power outage, but the two of you continue talking by candle light.
Then the phone rings.
"I'll just get the phone downstairs," you say.
"No, don't get it, we're in the middle of our talk," she says.
"It might be important," you say.
"Okay if you say so, but promise me you'll be back," she says.
You promise her a million times that you'll be back.
Then you run downstairs to answer the phone.
"Hello," you say.
"Hello," says the person on the line.
"Yeah?" you say, wondering who it is.
"I'm calling on behalf of Sue's family. They had an accident and her parents are in the hospital right now," he says.
"How are they?" you ask.
He continues, "They are injured but stable. But I'm sorry to say that Sue died. We found your name and phone number in Sue's purse...
"His voice trails off as you look up at the long stairs...

WOULD YOU GO BACK AS YOU HAVE PROMISED?

TO TED WITH LOVE

Edward Moore 'Ted' Kennedy

‘We do not weep for him today because of the prestige attached to his name or his office.
We weep because we loved this kind and tender hero who persevered through pain and tragedy – not for the sake of ambition or vanity; not for wealth or power; but only for the people and the country he loved.''

-Barack Obama,at late Senator Ted Kennedy's memorial mass

I hope that Nigerian politicians and poli-thiefcians can see through the lines of this speech

MUCH ADO ABOUT CASTER

Will Caster still have the last laugh?

Too masculine for a lady?

Caster..built for controversy?

Caster...with her school mates

Caster's birth certificate

''No one ever said I was not a girl,but here (in Berlin) I am not.I am not a boy.Why did you bring me here? You should have left me in my village at home.''
-Semenya Caster

''There is something dangling between her legs-thats obvious-and shes got an Adam apple.''

-An unamed Australian sports officer

''From the time she could walk,Caster only wanted to play with boys,Her three elder sisters wore dresses as little girls do,but Caster refused.She has never had a skirt,only trousers.

I knew she was different to the others and even now if you speak to her on the telephone,you might mistake her for a man.But I used to change her nappy and I know she is a woman.What better proof do people need?''

-Jacob Semanya (Caster's father)

''She never had a boyfriend.She doesn't like boys.But that doesn't mean she is not a girl.''

-Deborah Morolong (Caster's best childhood friend)

''Some schools,suspecting that she was not a girl,even demanded that her status be checked.But each time they returned from the toilet,she would be cleared...we would ask her why they had taken her to the toilet and she would just say ''they are doubting me'',without explaining further.''

-Moloko Rapetsoa (Caster's school teacher)

''She comes from me.I gave birth to that girl,she came from my womb..its my girl.''

-Dorcus Semenya (Caster's Mother)