Lifestyle

By Muhammad Abubakar

Frequent exposure to short-form videos on platforms such as TikTok, Instagram Reels and YouTube Shorts may affect brain systems involved in self-control, attention and memory, according to emerging research.

A neuroimaging study found that watching preferred short videos was associated with increased activity in the amygdala, a brain region involved in emotion and reward, while areas of the prefrontal cortex responsible for cognitive control showed reduced activity. The researchers said the effect was more pronounced among people with lower levels of self-control.

Other recent research has reported similar concerns. A 2026 systematic review and meta-analysis covering 71 studies and nearly 98,300 participants found that greater use of short-form video was associated with poorer cognitive performance, particularly in attention and inhibitory control.

A separate study published in npj Science of Learning also found that learning through fragmented short videos was associated with poorer memory accuracy and reduced activity in several brain regions involved in information integration, cognitive control and semantic processing.

However, researchers caution that the findings do not mean that watching TikTok, Reels or Shorts literally “deactivates the brain.” Most studies examine associations or short-term changes in brain activity, and more longitudinal research is needed to establish whether frequent short-form video consumption causes lasting cognitive changes.

The findings nevertheless add to growing concerns about the cognitive effects of endless scrolling and rapidly changing, algorithmically selected content, particularly when such platforms are used for prolonged periods.

By Ali Tijjani Hassan

There is a difference between a public health system that performs well on paper and one that performs well in people’s lives, and Yobe State is currently teaching us these differences in real time. For over ten days, reports of viral conjunctivitis (Apollo), as it is popularly called, have been spreading across parts of the state. Yet the silence from official quarters has been almost as consistent as the outbreak itself. No public advisory. No visible coordination. No reassurance that anyone in authority is even watching. And silence, in public health, is never neutral. It either means nothing is happening, or it means something is happening and no one has thought to tell the people living through it. Neither of these answers is acceptable. Considering the communicable nature of this outbreak, it is essentially as contagious as yawning. The system should work, and the response should be in place.

I say this, not out of pessimism, because pessimism is cheap and the outbreak deserves better than cheap reactions. Yobe is not a state without human resource capacity. We have a significant number of epidemiologists and precision medicine experts. We have disease surveillance officers, laboratory scientists, environmental health officers, and public health professionals—a full formation of expertise that many states would envy. So, the question is not whether we have the people. The question is whether the system built around those people is actually working, or has quietly become one optimised for reporting rather than responding. Because here is an uncomfortable truth: a health system can hit every donor indicator, produce every glossy report, receive every award, and still fail the basic test of protecting the community it exists to serve. KPIs are not the same as outcomes. A dashboard is not the same as a warned public. You can be commended internationally and still be invisible locally, and that gap between what is reported upward and what is felt on the ground is where public trust quietly erodes.

What sharpens this concern is that we are not operating in isolation. This outbreak is not affecting only Yobe State; it’s spread across northeastern states. Take Adamawa State as an example: it’s currently responding to a similar outbreak of viral conjunctivitis. They already declared a pandemic and activated warning and response systems since the 7th of August, 2026. Coincidentally, Bauchi State is experiencing a cholera outbreak; the state government has been activating its cholera response system since the 1st of August, 2026. These are not distant or hypothetical benchmarks; they are neighbours, operating under comparable constraints, demonstrating that a coordinated response is possible when the will and the system align. So if they can move, what exactly is holding us back?

Is it a failure of surveillance itself, or a failure to verify what surveillance already picked up? Is it risk assessment sitting somewhere in a queue? Is it plain bureaucratic inertia, the kind where information exists but no one owns the decision to act on it? Or is it something more troubling: a culture where we wait for numbers to become undeniable before we treat them as urgent?

I raise these questions not to indict anyone by name, but because public health, by its very design, is supposed to be anticipatory. Its entire justification is that it acts before catastrophe forces it to. A surveillance system that produces reports without triggering timely action has collected data successfully but has failed in its actual purpose. And there is something quietly troubling about a community that learns of a potential outbreak through word of mouth before it hears a single word from the institutions constitutionally responsible for its well-being. That is not just a communication gap. It is a trust gap, and trust, once eroded in public health, is far harder to rebuild than any epidemic curve.

The remedy is not complicated. If there is no outbreak, say so clearly and to everyone, not just to donors. If there is one, say so. If an investigation is currently in progress, please communicate that clearly. If interventions have begun, say so. None of this requires perfect information. It requires the basic respect of keeping people informed while the work is being done. Because silence is not surveillance, and a response no one can see is barely a response at all. The people of Yobe do not need another award ceremony. They need a system that notices early, speaks plainly, and moves before the numbers force its hand. In the end, the truest measure of a public health system was never going to be what it reports about itself. It is what the people living inside it actually experience.

Ali Tijjani Hassan is a public health professional who writes from his personal quarantine after being infected with the Apollo.

By Abashi Rahab Ashezi 

There is a man who leaves work every evening but does not head straight home. He is not held back by traffic or delayed by unfinished assignments. He is simply buying time.

Home, for him, is not always a place of rest. It is another arena of responsibilities, expectations and silent pressures. So he sits in traffic longer than necessary, staring at the stream of headlights, listening to nothing in particular, waiting for the weight of the day to ease before stepping into another round of obligations.

Nobody notices because it looks like an ordinary routine. Yet beneath that routine lies a reality many men know too well: exhaustion without an outlet.

From childhood, boys are taught to be strong, provide, endure and never break. They are praised for resilience but rarely taught how to process pain. A crying boy is told to stop. A struggling boy is told to be tough. Gradually, silence becomes confused with strength.

What society often calls masculinity is, in reality, emotional suppression.

As men grow older, many carry fears they can hardly explain. Some are afraid of repeating the mistakes of their fathers. Others fear failure, financial instability or being perceived as weak. Rather than confront these emotions, many retreat into work, isolation or emotional detachment because those are the coping mechanisms they have learned.

Cultural sayings reinforce the pattern. Phrases such as “African men don’t cry” or “a king must never be seen weeping” have created generations of men who are expected to provide but are rarely given permission to be vulnerable. Consequently, many learn that speaking about their fears may attract ridicule, while silence earns respect.

Yet silence does not erase pain. It merely stores it.

Behind countless smiles are men wrestling with financial pressures, disappointments, loneliness and identity crises. What remains hidden often emerges through anger, substance abuse, broken relationships and, in some tragic cases, suicide.

June, marked globally as Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month, serves as a reminder of this often overlooked crisis. While women are diagnosed with depression more frequently, men account for a disproportionately high number of suicide deaths worldwide. In Nigeria, the challenge is compounded by limited access to mental healthcare, with a severe shortage of psychiatrists and mental health professionals serving a population of more than 200 million.

Statistics, however, only tell part of the story. Behind every number is a father trying to stay strong for his family, a husband hiding his fears, a son struggling with expectations, or a young man quietly questioning his worth.

Untreated emotional wounds do not disappear. They are often passed from one generation to another, creating cycles of silence that become mistaken for normality.

The question before society is not whether men are strong. Their resilience is undeniable. The more important question is whether strength should mean carrying life’s burdens alone.

True strength is not the absence of tears or vulnerability. It is the courage to acknowledge pain, seek help when necessary and speak without fear of judgment.

Perhaps the greatest gift society can give men is not another reminder to be tough, but the assurance that they are human too. Because strength does not die when a man speaks. Sometimes, it begins there.

Abashi Rahab is a student of Strategic Communication at Yakubu Gowon University, Abuja. She can be reached at: abashirahab@gmail.com.

By Oladoja M.O

I won’t even sugar coat. There really is a quiet arithmetic we seem to forget whenever we speak about financing health, and that is; “money not spent is money saved”. It sounds almost too simple to be taken seriously in policy circles, yet it is perhaps a foundational principle of any sustainable system, economic or otherwise.

In recent years, the conversation around health financing has become so popular yet increasingly narrow, that whenever it’s being discussed, the theme of bigger budgets, expanded insurance schemes, increased donor flows, and new funding mechanisms is the only thing in lens. Though all of these are unarguably important, they are only one side of the equation, as financing health is not merely about how much money enters the system, but also about how much unnecessary expenditure we can prevent from ever occurring. And this is where preventive health quietly stands as one of the most underutilized financing strategies.

Often preached, prevention is prevalently taken as some moral or clinical responsibility, something good to do for public health, but not worth framing as a fiscal strategy. Yet, at its core, prevention is economic discipline. 

I don’t think it should be difficult to interpret that a well-prevented illness is not just a life improved; it is a cost avoided, a drug regimen that was never needed, and in many cases, a financial burden that never fell on a household.

In a country where out-of-pocket expenditure still defines access to care for many citizens, this distinction matters deeply. Because when people stay healthier for longer, they spend less on treatment. When communities adopt preventive behaviors, the strain on health facilities reduces. When systems prioritize early detection and risk reduction, the cost curve bends—not because we spent more, but because we needed to spend less.

This is not an argument against mobilizing more funds for health. On the contrary, it is a call to think more intelligently about what “financing health” truly means. Generating revenue is one part. Structuring systems efficiently is another. And, crucially, reducing avoidable expenditure must sit at the center of that conversation.

Interestingly, this broader view aligns with deeper conversations around governance and federal structure. True federalism, as many have argued, is not just about distributing resources but about enabling systems to function efficiently at all levels. The recent legislative developments in that direction are, for once, a step that deserves cautious commendation. It suggests that perhaps we are beginning to think beyond surface-level reforms and towards more grounded, structural solutions.

But policy frameworks alone will not carry this shift. Preventive health requires something more subtle: a cultural and systemic reorientation. It asks us to value the absence of disease as much as the treatment of it. It asks governments to invest in awareness, early screening, community-based interventions, and primary care, not as afterthoughts, but as core financing strategies.

It also demands that we confront an uncomfortable truth that reactive healthcare is expensive. A system that waits for illness to occur before acting will always spend more than one that works to prevent it. Hospitals will remain congested, costs will continue to rise, and households will keep absorbing financial shocks that could have been avoided.

On the other hand, a preventive-focused system redistributes that burden, spreading cost-saving across individuals, communities, and institutions. It is quieter, less dramatic, and often less politically celebrated, but far more sustainable.

A bit further to that is the human dimension that cannot be ignored. Financial protection in health should not just be about insurance coverage or subsidies; it is about reducing the likelihood that people will need to spend in the first place. Every avoided illness is, in a real sense, a preserved livelihood.

So, perhaps it is time we expanded our definition of health financing. Beyond budgets and allocations, beyond policies and programs, we must begin to recognize prevention as a financial instrument in its own right.

Because in the end, the most efficient health system is not the one that spends the most, but the one that needs to spend the least.

And that is an arithmetic we can no longer afford to ignore.

Oladoja M.O (Oladoja Mark Olamilekan) writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By The Daily Reality

Health experts have advised people to adopt healthier eating habits and stay properly hydrated to reduce the risk of developing kidney stones, a condition that affects millions of people worldwide.

According to experts, kidney stones occur when minerals and other substances in urine become highly concentrated and form crystals. Calcium oxalate stones remain the most common type, although uric acid stones and struvite stones also occur under different conditions.

Nutrition specialists say dehydration remains the leading risk factor for kidney stones. They also note that several dietary habits contribute to the condition, including excessive sodium, animal protein and added sugar intake.

Ashley Kitchens, a registered dietitian, warned that consuming too much salt significantly increases the likelihood of developing kidney stones.

“Eating too much sodium is one of the biggest overlooked dietary factors that can increase your risk of kidney stones,” she said. “High sodium intake causes your kidneys to excrete more calcium in the urine, which raises your risk of calcium oxalate stones, the most common type of kidney stone.”

She advised people to reduce their intake of ultra-processed foods, packaged snacks and restaurant meals. She encouraged home-cooked meals as a healthier alternative.

Experts also cautioned against consuming too little calcium. Melissa Mitri, another registered dietitian, explained that inadequate calcium intake can increase the risk of kidney stones instead of reducing it.

“Not getting enough calcium is also a risk, as calcium helps bind oxalate, allowing it to pass through the body rather than build up and crystallize in the kidneys,” she said.

Diets that contain large amounts of red meat and other animal proteins can also increase uric acid levels in urine, which raises the risk of kidney stone formation. Experts recommend replacing some animal protein with plant-based options such as beans, lentils, tofu and tempeh.

They also identified sugary drinks as another important risk factor. Mitri said regular consumption of added sugar can contribute to kidney stone development.

“Added sugar quietly raises your risk of kidney stones long before dehydration does,” she said.

To lower the risk, specialists recommend eating citrus fruits such as oranges, lemons and limes because they contain citrate, a compound that helps prevent stone formation.

“Citrus fruits like oranges, lemons and limes are among the best foods for kidney stone prevention because they have a high citrate content, which inhibits stone crystal formation,” Kitchens said.

Experts also encouraged people to consume calcium-rich foods, including dairy products and fortified plant-based milk.

“Calcium-rich foods like dairy and fortified plant milk are key, since calcium binds substances in your gut, like oxalates, that would otherwise end up in your urine and form stones,” Mitri said. “Getting enough of it is actually protective, not risky.”

For people who avoid dairy products, Kitchens recommended vegetables such as kale and bok choy.

“Eating kale and bok choy gives you calcium without the high oxalate content of spinach, supporting the calcium-oxalate balance,” she said.

Hydrating fruits and vegetables can also support kidney health.

“Eating fruits and vegetables with a high water content, such as cucumbers, watermelon and citrus fruits, increases urine volume and helps dilute the minerals that form kidney stones,” Kitchens explained.

She also recommended legumes because they contain fewer purines than red meat.

“Legumes like lentils and beans are a great protein source [and are] lower in purines compared to red meat, which reduces uric acid production and kidney stone risk,” she said.

Whole grains, including oats and brown rice, also provide magnesium, which helps reduce stone formation.

“Incorporating whole grains like oats and brown rice into your diet provides magnesium, which binds to oxalate in the gut, reducing the amount that reaches your kidneys,” Kitchens said.

Beyond diet, experts advised people to drink enough water throughout the day.

“It’s important to stay consistently hydrated throughout your day, not just when you feel thirsty,” Kitchens said. “The goal is to have pale yellow urine.”

Mitri also stressed the importance of regular physical activity.

“You don’t need to train for a marathon; even light daily movement meaningfully lowers the risk of stone formation,” she said.

She also encouraged healthier beverage choices.

“It’s not just how much you drink that matters for stone prevention; it’s what’s in the glass,” Mitri said. “Coffee, tea and orange juice are all linked to a lower risk of kidney stones, making them smarter choices than soda or sweetened drinks.”

Health experts added that controlling conditions such as high blood pressure and diabetes may also reduce the likelihood of developing kidney stones. They urged people with persistent kidney-related symptoms or concerns to seek medical advice from a doctor or urologist.

By Dahiru Kasimu Adamu

As part of its sustained commitment to reducing the high prevalence of Moderate Acute Malnutrition (MAM) in Sokoto State, the Nigerian Red Cross Society (NRCS), Sokoto State Branch, through the Malnutrition Emergency Appeal Programme (MEAP), continues to implement life-saving interventions across Sokoto North, Sokoto South, and Wamakko Divisions.

In a two-day intensive house-to-house screening exercise, trained volunteers used MUAC (Mid-Upper Arm Circumference) tapes to assess children aged 6–59 months and identify cases of malnutrition. 

According to the Sokoto State Branch Communication and PMER Officer, Yahaya Ishaq, “This proactive approach ensures early detection and timely intervention for vulnerable children within the targeted communities.”

Following the screening, identified MAM cases were enrolled for support and provided with “Tom Brown,” a locally produced, nutrient-rich supplementary food designed to improve the nutritional status of affected children. Caregivers were also guided on proper preparation and feeding practices to maximise its benefits.

Beyond nutritional support, hygiene promotion remains a key component of the intervention. 

As part of this, the Red Cross engaged in Mothers’ Club meetings held across various communities where hygiene education sessions were conducted. Members were sensitised to safe hygiene practices, proper sanitation, and disease prevention. 

To further support improved household hygiene and reduce the risk of infections that can worsen malnutrition, hygiene kits were distributed to the most vulnerable caregivers.

The Nigerian Red Cross Society, Sokoto State Branch, says the integration of nutrition screening, supplementary feeding, and hygiene promotion demonstrates its holistic approach to addressing malnutrition and strengthening community resilience.

The Society reaffirmed its commitment to improving the health and well-being of vulnerable populations through community-based interventions, in line with its humanitarian mandate. It also emphasised that the active participation of community members, especially mothers and caregivers, continues to play a vital role in the programme’s success.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Scientists at Umeå University in Sweden, in collaboration with partner institutions, have developed an experimental drug that could slow the growth of aggressive prostate cancer and stop it from spreading to other parts of the body.

The findings, which were published in the journal Signal Transduction and Targeted Therapy, suggest the treatment could provide a new option for tackling metastatic prostate cancer.

Maréne Landström, Professor of Pathology at the Department of Medical Biosciences, Umeå University, said the research team identified the biological processes responsible for cancer cell growth, invasion and metastasis.

“The new drug has been developed to prevent metastasis, and we are very pleased and proud that we have been able to identify the mechanisms that drive cancer cell growth, invasiveness, and metastatic spread,” Landström said.

Prostate cancer is among the most commonly diagnosed cancers in men. Although many cases progress slowly and remain non-life-threatening, some become highly aggressive and spread to organs such as the lymph nodes and bones.

To address this form of the disease, the researchers created a fully human antibody made entirely from human proteins. They said the design makes it suitable for further development as a therapeutic treatment.

According to the study, preclinical tests showed that the antibody stopped tumour growth and prevented the spread of an aggressive form of prostate cancer. The researchers added that the treatment works through a newly identified mechanism, which they believe could also reduce the likelihood of side effects.

Landström described the findings as encouraging but stressed that further studies and regulatory approvals are required before the treatment can be used in patients.

“This is a promising step forward, but several important stages remain before the treatment can benefit patients,” she said.

“We still need to conduct additional safety studies, and the treatment must be approved by regulatory authorities in Europe or the United States.”

She added that the project seeks to improve survival rates and the quality of life of people living with advanced prostate cancer. She also credited years of collaboration among researchers, organisations and funding partners for the progress achieved.

The research team plans to investigate whether the same treatment can be applied to other solid tumours.

“The next step is to investigate whether this treatment can also be used against other types of solid tumors,” Landström said.

“We hope that our work will ultimately contribute to the development of a new cancer drug that can benefit patients.”

The study involved experts from the SciLifeLab Drug Discovery and Development Platform, which contributed to the development of the antibody. Additional support came from the Umeå Biotech Incubator at Umeå University, while MetaCurUm Biotech AB funded the development and testing of the experimental treatment.

By Maimuna Katuka Aliyu

Trachoma is more than an eye infection. It is a quiet destroyer of sight and dignity, affecting millions of vulnerable people around the world—especially in places where clean water is scarce, healthcare is distant, and poverty runs deep.

Caused by the bacterium “Chlamydia trachomatis”, trachoma spreads through direct contact with infected eye or nose secretions, as well as indirectly through contaminated items. In overcrowded communities where basic sanitation is poor, the disease thrives.

But this is not a new threat. Trachoma has haunted humanity for centuries. As far back as 1500 BC, ancient Egyptian scrolls described eye diseases that closely resemble it. In the 19th century, outbreaks became widespread in densely populated areas.

By the 20th century, global efforts to fight it began taking shape, especially with the intervention of the World Health Organization (WHO) and other health bodies. Today, trachoma remains one of the world’s leading causes of preventable blindness.

And the burden it places on affected communities is staggering. For individuals, the disease often begins with repeated infections. Over time, the eyelids turn inward in a condition called trichiasis, causing the lashes to scrape against the cornea.

The result is chronic pain and, eventually, blindness. For families, the impact is just as devastating. When a parent loses their vision, their ability to work and care for their children suffers. When a child goes blind, their education is interrupted, and their future becomes uncertain.

Across entire communities, this loss of productivity and well-being adds up to high economic and social costs. The stigma can be equally painful. In many places, those affected by trachoma are isolated or ridiculed—stripped of confidence and dignity.

But there is hope. Trachoma is preventable. It is also treatable, especially when detected early. And that is why the role of government is so vital.

National and local authorities must lead the fight with robust public health campaigns—promoting hygiene, encouraging regular eye checkups, and ensuring that children grow up with clean faces and clean water.

Clinics must be established in underserved areas, and healthcare workers must be trained to identify and treat the disease effectively. Collaboration is also key. By partnering with international organizations such as the WHO and the Carter Center, governments can access resources, share knowledge, and scale up proven interventions.

Yet governments alone cannot eliminate trachoma. Communities must also rise to the task. We need individuals who speak up—advocating for improved sanitation, better access to care, and education for all.

We need families and neighbours who support those affected instead of shaming them. And we need young people who take the lead in hygiene campaigns, who believe that blindness from trachoma is one injustice we can—and must—end.

The fight against trachoma is a shared responsibility. It is not just about medicine. It is about dignity. It is about giving people the chance to see their children grow, to live and work with pride, and to be seen—not for their illness—but for their worth.

The path to eliminating trachoma is clear. What is needed now is the will to walk it together—governments, communities, and every one of us who believes in a future where no one loses their sight to a disease that should already be history.

By Rabi Ummi Umar

The Nigerian healthcare system is often dismissed because of the unenviable reputation it has built over decades of systemic failure. It is a common refrain across the country that citizens simply do not trust the medical institutions meant to save them.

For those who can afford it, the immediate solution to a serious diagnosis is to board a flight out of the country, seeking medical treatment abroad where systems are functional.

And for the rest of the population, walking into a local hospital is less an exercise in hope and more an act of desperate survival, frequently marred by anxiety about what might happen inside.

Personal encounters with our healthcare infrastructure often leave deep scars. I often find myself silently whispering, ‘I pray nobody has to experience this.’ Sadly, too many Nigerians have stories of facing decaying infrastructure, enduring the dismissive or outright rude attitudes of overworked nurses, or being left unattended in crowded corridors.

Perhaps the most heartbreaking reality is the ubiquitous ‘payment before service’ policy. In moments when a patient is actively battling for their life, a life that is irreplaceable, the administrative unit, or hospital policy, prioritises financial clearance over immediate clinical intervention.

This, in my opinion, is an ethical failure that leaves families helpless and hollows out the core purpose of medicine. It undermines the very principles of the Hippocratic Oath and the Nightingale Pledge that doctors and nurses take before practising.

This crisis of confidence in our healthcare system was perfectly articulated at a recent book unveiling I attended at the Yar’Adua Centre in the Federal Capital Territory, Abuja.

The book, Trust Renewal: The Integrity Call for Better Health for All, authored by Dr Abdullahi Jubril Mohammed, offers a resonant critique of our current trajectory. During the launch, he stated an earnest truth too often overlooked: health systems do not succeed merely because of advanced technology or concrete infrastructure. Instead, they succeed or fail along the patient’s path based on a single, invisible metric — trust.

When trust is absent, the entire system fractures. Even when medical facilities receive structural upgrades or well-funded international aid, these interventions fail to achieve their potential because the human connection between provider and patient has been broken.

Patients seek treatment abroad not just for better machines, but because they believe unsafe practices thrive in an environment devoid of accountability, and that the workers within that environment have grown numb to human suffering. To change this narrative, the Nigerian healthcare system must be consciously rebuilt on a foundation of ethical, accountable behaviour.

Renewing this trust requires a collaborative effort from policymakers, healthcare providers, civil society, and patients themselves. Medical institutions must actively promote transparency, especially concerning service delays, and prioritise patient feedback as a tool for institutional growth rather than dismissing it as mere complaining.

Practitioners need to understand that listening to a patient’s experience is just as vital as reading their clinical charts.

Building a better health system requires moving beyond physical structures and investing heavily in the integrity of the care provided. Only when patients feel safe, valued, and heard can we begin to heal the system itself.

Rabi Ummi Umar is a writer in Abuja, and she can be reached via rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Maimuna Katuka Aliyu

Hepatitis, a medical condition characterised by inflammation of the liver, remains one of the most significant yet underestimated public health crises in Nigeria. The liver is a vital organ responsible for essential bodily functions, including detoxifying harmful substances, metabolising nutrients, storing energy, and producing proteins necessary for blood clotting. 

While hepatitis can stem from excessive alcohol consumption, toxin exposure, certain medications, or autoimmune diseases, viral infections represent the most prevalent and dangerous form of the disease both globally and domestically.

There are five primary strains of viral hepatitis: A, B, C, D, and E. Each is triggered by a distinct virus and varies in transmission mode, severity, and treatment options.

Hepatitis A and E are typically waterborne, spreading through contaminated food and water in areas plagued by poor sanitation. Conversely, Hepatitis B, C, and D are bloodborne pathogens. They spread primarily through contact with infected body fluids, unprotected sexual contact, the sharing of sharp objects, unsafe medical procedures, and mother-to-child transmission during childbirth.

The insidious nature of hepatitis lies in its symptoms or lack thereof. Many infected individuals remain entirely asymptomatic during the early stages. When symptoms do surface, they often mimic general illness, such as fever, fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea, abdominal pain, dark urine, and jaundice (the yellowing of the skin and eyes).

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), viral hepatitis is a leading infectious cause of death worldwide, claiming approximately 1.3 million lives each year. Strains B and C are particularly dangerous because they can progress to chronic, silent infections that gradually destroy the liver over decades, leading to cirrhosis, liver failure, or liver cancer.

In Nigeria, the scale of this silent epidemic is staggering. The Federal Ministry of Health and Social Welfare revealed that more than 20 million Nigerians are living with viral hepatitis, with Hepatitis B affecting roughly 18.2 million people and Hepatitis C affecting about 2.5 million. Hepatitis B stands as the most widespread strain in the country. 

Fortunately, a highly effective vaccine exists. The WHO strongly advocates that all infants receive this vaccine within 24 hours of birth as part of routine childhood immunisation.

For Hepatitis C, there is currently no vaccine, but modern antiviral medications boast a cure rate of over 95 per cent if the infection is detected early. Meanwhile, Hepatitis D presents a unique threat as a “satellite virus” that can only replicate in individuals already infected with Hepatitis B, a co-infection that drastically increases the severity of liver disease.

To combat this burden, the Federal Government has aligned with the WHO global target to eliminate viral hepatitis as a public health threat by 2030. Central to Nigeria’s strategy is Project 365, a nationwide elimination campaign designed to scale up public awareness, screening, and treatment services while integrating hepatitis care directly into primary healthcare systems. 

This initiative is heavily supported by the Nigeria Centre for Disease Control and Prevention (NCDC) through enhanced disease surveillance, outbreak response, and the enforcement of infection control practices across medical facilities.

Ultimately, turning the tide against this hidden killer requires a shift from reactive medicine to proactive prevention. On an individual level, protection involves getting vaccinated against Hepatitis B, avoiding the sharing of personal sharp items, practising safe sex, and demanding screened blood products during transfusions.

With sustained government commitment to expanding affordable diagnostic tools, paired with a public willing to break the silence and get tested, Nigeria can move closer to a future where viral hepatitis is no longer a shadow over national health.

Maimuna Katuka Aliyu can be reached via munat815@gmail.com.