Lifestyle

By Mujahid Nasir Hussain

On 14 November 2025, the world marked World Diabetes Day, and a familiar message rang out across hospitals, communities, and workplaces: Africa must “know more and do more” to confront the rising tide of chronic diseases. It is a message that feels especially urgent here in Nigeria, and in cities like Kano, where the realities of modern life have dramatically reshaped how people live, move, work, and stay healthy. For many families, this year’s theme was not merely a global campaign. It reflected what they witness daily—more people living with diabetes, hypertension, kidney disease, stroke, obesity, and joint disorders than ever before.

The World Health Organisation has warned that Africa will soon face a dramatic shift in its health landscape. By 2030, deaths from non-communicable diseases are projected to surpass those from infectious diseases. This is a striking transformation for a continent historically burdened by malaria, tuberculosis, and HIV. Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, is at the centre of this shift, with cities such as Kano experiencing a rapid rise in chronic and progressive conditions. The reasons are both complex and straightforward: changing diets, prolonged sitting, stressful work environments, reduced physical activity, environmental pollution, and limited access to preventive healthcare.

Yet amid these alarming trends, one therapeutic tool stands out: exercise. For many years, exercise has been treated merely as a wellness activity or an optional lifestyle choice. But in reality, it is one of the most powerful and scientifically proven therapies for slowing the progression of chronic diseases. When the body moves consistently, it undergoes profound biological changes: insulin works better, blood vessels become healthier, the heart becomes stronger, inflammation decreases, and harmful fat around organs begins to shrink. These benefits are not cosmetic; they are therapeutic.

However, there is a critical truth that the public often misunderstands: exercise is powerful medicine, and like any medicine, it must be prescribed correctly. It is not something people with chronic diseases should “start doing” without guidance. The mode, frequency, intensity, and duration of exercise must be tailored to the individual’s medical condition, age, fitness level, and risk factors. What is safe and effective for one person may be dangerous for another. This is why professional guidance is so essential. For instance, a person living with uncontrolled hypertension should not begin intense aerobic workouts without clearance from a doctor, because sudden spikes in blood pressure could lead to complications.

Someone with diabetic neuropathy may not feel injuries in their feet, making certain activities unsafe without supervision. Individuals with chronic kidney disease need specific exercise prescriptions that do not strain the cardiovascular system or accelerate fatigue. People recovering from stroke require structured rehabilitation overseen by physiotherapists to prevent falls or further damage. Even patients with obesity, osteoarthritis, or long-standing back pain need tailored, gradual programs to avoid joint overload. This is why exercise should not be approached casually, especially in a context like Africa, where many chronic conditions are undiagnosed or poorly monitored. Before starting an exercise program, individuals living with progressive diseases should consult qualified professionals. Doctors provide medical clearance and identify risks. Physiotherapists design safe movements that protect joints and nerves. Exercise physiologists prescribe evidence-based routines that align with the patient’s goals and limitations. Their role is to ensure that exercise becomes therapy, not a trigger for complications.

In Kano State, this issue is especially relevant. The city has undergone a rapid transition from physically demanding lifestyles to sedentary routines. Many residents now spend long hours sitting in shops, riding motorcycles, or working in offices. Combined with high consumption of energy-dense foods and limited awareness of disease symptoms, progressive illnesses have become deeply entrenched. Yet awareness of safe, guided exercise therapy remains low. Many people begin rigorous routines abruptly, driven by social pressure or misinformation, only to injure themselves or exacerbate their conditions. Others avoid exercise entirely because they fear doing the wrong thing. Both extremes are harmful.

To confront this, a cultural shift is needed, one that recognises exercise as a vital part of medical care. Hospitals and clinics across Nigeria must integrate exercise counselling into routine visits, especially for patients with diabetes, hypertension, kidney issues, and obesity. Something as simple as a doctor explaining which movements are safe, or a physiotherapist demonstrating gentle routines, could prevent years of complications. Exercise physiologists, though still few in number, should be incorporated into more healthcare teams to design personalised programs grounded in scientific evidence.

At the community level, awareness must grow that exercise therapy is not a one-size-fits-all approach. It is a carefully structured health intervention. Encouraging early-morning walking groups, promoting workplace movement breaks, and organising community fitness sessions are valuable, but they must be paired with safety education. Leaders—traditional, religious, and educational—can play a vital role by emphasising the importance of seeking professional guidance before starting any intense routine, especially for those already living with chronic diseases.

It is also worth acknowledging the emotional dimension. People battling progressive diseases often feel overwhelmed, frightened, or uncertain. Exercise offers not just physical healing but a sense of agency. It improves mood, relieves anxiety, supports sleep, and helps people feel that they are actively shaping their health. This psychological benefit is powerful, especially in societies where chronic diseases still carry stigma. But again, confidence grows stronger when people know they are exercising safely and correctly under the guidance of trained professionals.

Nigeria’s future health outcomes depend on coordinated action. Families must embrace a culture of safe movement. Workplaces must reduce prolonged sitting and encourage healthy routines. Schools must restore physical activity as a normal part of the day, not an afterthought. Healthcare institutions must treat exercise as a formal therapy, not a casual suggestion. And individuals must understand that professional guidance is the foundation of safe and effective exercise therapy. The WHO’s projections are indeed alarming, but they are not destiny. Africa still has the opportunity to change its trajectory. But to do so, we must shift how we view health, how we integrate movement into daily life, and how we approach treatment of chronic diseases. Exercise will play a central role in this transformation, but only if it is approached with the same seriousness and medical supervision as any other form of therapy.

In the markets of Kano, the offices of Abuja, the streets of Lagos, and the rural communities of northern and southern Nigeria, the message must be clear: movement heals, but only when guided, intentional, and safe. The global call to “know more and do more” continues beyond 14 November. This is a reminder that Africans must not only embrace exercise as therapy but also do so with professional guidance to protect the body and preserve long-term health. Our path forward lies not just in treating disease, but in transforming lifestyles with knowledge, with care, and with the understanding that the right kind of movement, at the right intensity, prescribed by the right professional, can change the story of health for a generation.

Mujahid Nasir Hussain is an exploratory researcher in biomedicine, deeply passionate about public health, chronic disease prevention, and evidence-based community health interventions.

By Uzair Adam

Journalists have been urged to treat emergency reporting as a life-saving public service, given the powerful role of the media in shaping public understanding and behaviour during health crises.

The call was made at a two-day Emergency Risk Communication workshop for journalists organised by the Kano State Centre for Disease Control (KNCDC) with support from the FCDO–Lafiya Programme, aimed at strengthening ethical and responsible health reporting during public health emergencies.

Delivering a session on Emergency Reporting and Ethical Guidelines for Public Safety during Health Crises, media expert and editor with The Daily Reality Newspaper, Malam Aisar Salihu Musa, said information often spreads faster than disease during outbreaks, stressing that the way journalists report emergencies can either reduce harm or fuel fear and panic.

“Where trust is strong, public health succeeds. Where trust is weak, fear becomes the real outbreak,” he said, noting that trust remains the most valuable currency during health emergencies.

He explained that journalists serve as information gatekeepers, with a responsibility to verify reports that could affect public health outcomes and to collaborate closely with health authorities in sharing credible information.

According to him, emergency reporting presents ethical challenges, including balancing urgency with accuracy, avoiding sensational headlines, and protecting the dignity and privacy of patients and their families.

Musa urged journalists to communicate risk clearly and proportionately, translate medical terms into simple language, and always include practical steps the public can take to protect themselves.

“Words can either save lives or cause harm,” he said, adding that responsible, transparent and empathetic journalism strengthens public trust and supports effective public health response.

He concluded by calling on journalists to see themselves as partners in public health, committed to countering misinformation, promoting preventive behaviours and reporting emergencies in ways that protect lives and strengthen society.

By Uzair Adam

The Director General of the Kano State Centre for Disease Control (KNCDC), Prof. Muhammad Adamu Abbas, has urged journalists to prioritise responsible and ethical reporting during public health emergencies to prevent the spread of misinformation and public panic.

Prof. Abbas made the call during a two-day Emergency Risk Communication workshop organised to strengthen media engagement and information management during disease outbreaks and other health emergencies.

He stated that the workshop followed the identification of critical gaps in Risk Communication and Community Engagement during recent Joint External Evaluation and multi-hazard preparedness assessments conducted in the state.

“This workshop was designed to address the gaps identified during the Joint External Evaluation and multi-hazard preparedness assessment,” Prof. Abbas said, adding that the media remains a key partner in managing public health emergencies.

The Daily Reality reports that the workshop, with support from the FCDO–Lafiya Programme, revolved around improving media engagement during outbreaks, ethical emergency reporting, managing misinformation, strengthening collaboration between journalists and health authorities, and developing a media-focused Emergency Risk Communication plan for Kano State.

The DG further stated that journalists have a responsibility to prevent the spread of false information, correct myths and harmful practices, and promote evidence-based decision-making that strengthens public trust in official health guidance.

He added that responsible media engagement should also encourage preventive behaviours such as hand hygiene, vaccination, safe food practices and environmental sanitation, while reinforcing official public health advisories.

The workshop was attended by journalists from print, broadcast and online media organisations, alongside public health officials and communication experts.

By Oladoja M.O

The Ministry of Health convened a timely, critical, and necessary gathering earlier last month: the National Health Financing Dialogue. A gathering with so much relevance and significance to address the almost comatose state of the Nigerian health sector. Reflecting on all said during the “dialogue,” there are just many thoughts creeping in here and there, which I feel compelled to just put up here for public consumption, and hopefully get across to the rightful authority to pick one or two important things. 

The dialogue, as noted earlier, was undeniably timely. I was not disappointed at all at various thematic areas buttressed on, ranging from health financing, health out-of-pocket spending (OOP) reduction, call for increment of the Basic Health Care Provision Fund (BHCPF), accountability and budgeting, over reliance on external health funding, insufficient resources as needed in the health sector, the need for proper, timely data to guide government decisions, the role of the media, and civil society organization in health sector, and holding government accountable, inclusivity of citizens in the budgeting process, budget execution, status of LG autonomy, the gap between research and policy making, establishment of proper framework for mental health in Nigeria, amongst many other things the dialogue rallied around. Reiteratively, all of these are core and vital to ensuring a positive paradigm for the national health sector state and to delivering on the interests of the citizen at large. Indeed, it was a worthwhile and insightful meeting. 

Though we still have quite a long way to go, I cannot help but acknowledge the works of the government of today on how far we’ve come in policies, increased allocation, investment in facilities, equipment, and a healthy workforce as regards health, captured in my work “Tinubu’s Healthcare Reforms: A Turning Point or Déjà Vu?”. During the course of the dialogue, a lot of observations kept creeping in, questions, suggestions, which there was not enough time to even express.

On observation

(1) We are unprepared to solve the country’s health problems, especially the issue of LG autonomy. The government focuses on superficial solutions instead of addressing root causes. LG autonomy is treated lightly compared to its importance. Primary care, which, if improved quickly, could significantly boost our health status. Unfortunately, the government is unable to do so. When I talk about autonomy, I mean actual, constitutionally granted autonomy, not superficial gestures like the Supreme Court’s jamboree. My writings, “LG: The Employed Man with no Office” and “Federalism and the Paradigm of Healthcare Accessibility,” elaborate on my views on this. The primary health issue affects p

(2) Make us talk truth, behind the blinking good intentions, health-related matters are often used for political publicity rather than long-term structural impact. Hence, many government interventions in healthcare are politically motivated rather than development-driven. 

(3) Still on the LG thing, I am more than disappointed at the way and manner in which the ALGON representatives at the dialogue spoke. What do you mean that you, as a stakeholder, come to such a stage to complain like every other person?? Basically, no form of cognitively presented way forward or suggestion, just another “we are being victimised” rhetoric. So Shameful! I was expecting them to flare up, demand something meaningful, but chai! My expectations were shattered. I thought they would speak about actual autonomy, driven by the constitution, not some half-baked, almost non-enforceable liberation.

In fact, the LG people present were just disappointed. We are talking about how to mobilise money, generate revenue for development, generate more liquidity to fund health, fund infrastructure, and none of them could make a meaningful comment on how funds can be generated rather than “if the autonomy sets in, we will ensure that all the allocation from the FG will be fully maximised.” As cool as that sounds, it was just another “we cannot do anything aside from what the FG says” kinda statement, and it only made me feel like this autonomy thing sef fit be another set-up… God abeg…. 

(4) On the role of media, it is crucial to even lean towards the perspective that the media is a culprit for where we are. Unfortunately, many media outlets and media handles are so fixated on just saying something, rather than saying something correct, and something from a knowledgeable stance, which to me, is even more dangerous than no information at all. Notably, the media are failing to pass information effectively. Especially the way they handle headlines. It is unfortunate, but it is the reality of our Nigerian populace that we have less of a reading habit. Hence, it is easy just to pick a headline, usually different from the content of the post, and run with it. Which is causing more harm to available information in the media space? Careless or sensational headlines have the potential to mislead the public, especially regarding sensitive policies such as those related to health. The issue of meaningless government secrecy is another thing I observed… and much more the issue of partisanship in politics by various media platforms and handling is another very obvious issue, causing every bit of information, especially unfinished policies or updates that are still in the pipeline, to be twisted for “political goals.” 

(5) In research, I observed that independent researchers and young passionate individuals in public health are often ignored, not encouraged, nor recognised, despite the need for data provision to help the government in setting priorities on health, and assisting in policy-making. 

(6) There’s just little or no innovative lawmaking pursued to fix systemic problems, especially wasteful constituency projects.

(7) Also, there seems to be too much focus on “there’s limited of…” What happened to the effective and efficient usage of the ones available?? Both in resources and in data.

And upon all the gbogbo atotonu of the dialogue, I was able to curate some suggestions which might be found useful;

(1) One of the major highlighted themes of the dialogue is the need for health insurance. It cannot be overemphasised that the importance of awareness still needs to be emphasised, especially to get the informal sector on board, because even among the small number of health insurance adopters, the major participants are those in the formal sector, with government employment. This awareness is not just something that will be around; “there is health insurance, and it is good for you.” But down to explaining various packages and what they cover, which can help guide expectations, correct misconceptions, and promote positive word-of-mouth about health insurance.

To meet up the ambiguous target of 40 million by 2030 and get more people from the informal sector onboard, I think a referral model (like those used in Ponzi schemes or digital marketing) could be adopted, making Civil servants primarily to act as “agents of change” or in this case, referral ambassadors, with promise of small tokens as reward for each successful referral. Because these civil servants are friends of people in communities, and even in places where government jingles and banners cannot reach, they help propagate.  No matter how we put it, the mouth-to-mouth campaign remains a powerful promotional strategy.

Another strategy is to tie health insurance enrolment to certain civic entry points, such as marriage registration. It can be mandated as part of the requirement to be submitted to the registry, where intending couples must show evidence of insurance. Procedural inefficiencies and bottlenecks should be removed to improve efficiency and ease the process, because I believe they are part of what discourages enrollees. Because even some who are already on health insurance coverage sometimes, because of long processes, delays, and stress, abandon the health insurance thing and pay out-of-pocket to get “sharp sharp” attention to their need. These negative experiences contribute to negative user feedback, and it spreads faster to non-users, worsening perceptions of health insurance enrollment.

(2) Though it may feel morally vexing, I suggest that health subsidies be tied to individual health behaviours. Those with risky lifestyles (alcohol, smoking) could face different treatment costs compared to people with unavoidable illnesses or accidents. This could encourage preventive lifestyles and behavioural change.

(3) On constituency projects, motorcycles, tricycles, food items… even outreaches) seems wasteful. I would suggest that a ban be placed, or at least regulations be given to what exactly these funds can be used to do… but then, who are those to impose that ban or restrictions, other than the actual people guilty of the bad behaviour? By direct analysis, these funds can be used to build facilities instead… whether school, or even hospitals, in this regard, left to the management of an independent body to be used efficiently and be used productively to generate money, money that can even be enough to run the operations and cover costs on its own, at least, and since the focus is to be able to generate liquidity to operationalize the facilities, the cost would be meager. They should not be free but rather run like a private entity to promote productivity. The billions lavishly spent on those meaningless things, if used in this manner, will result in more than 5–10 facilities at the senatorial district level or at whatever level of representation. Imagine if this number of facilities joined what we have??

(4) On the failure of some states in meeting their counterpart funding for BHCPF, they should not receive interventions from the FG. FG should publicly announce those states, carry the citizens along, and allow them to hold such state(s) accountable. There’s not enough funding. Therefore, the one we have must be spent in a way that is strictly tied to value and commitment.

(5) It is my suggestion that stronger media regulation be deployed to curb the spread of harmful and incorrect information (such as more dangerous than no information). And there should be a regulation/restriction on every journalist’s participation in politics. The place of media is quite sensitive, and they must remain sterile and neutral. Involvement in politics should be punishable by a ban on practising. This will give credibility to the profession and what their position is in the process of building a better state of the nation.

(6) On mobilisation of funds for health, I would suggest that the FG create something like a Health Bond, similar to commercial papers, to mobilise funds for health.

(7) Research should be given all the support it may ask for. A nation without accurate data is one with a lack of radar for progress… and I think one of the ways the government can support young, enthusiastic researchers (especially to gather young brains who are ready to help the government generate actual data for purpose of health policy and priorities) is to create access to platforms to show their works, something like a journal. We all know how much publications mean to researchers, and for young fellas like that, it can boost morale, knowing that their work is not wasted and is seen, whether it is to publish for free or at a very subsidised cost.

Lastly, I have been, and I remain, an advocate for the proper integration of the traditional health care system into the general healthcare system in Nigeria, especially at the grassroots level (Primary Health Care). My advocacy and thoughts are captured in some of my writings on Blueprint and HealthDigest. Health is people; people are culture. Nothing screams culture more than the traditional health care system. We cannot only tech-chase ourselves into a proper healthcare system in Nigeria.

Yes, technology is excellent, and AI is great, but the actual health burden we face requires that we not focus solely on these technologies. To me, I ask: why are we running? There’s a system that has been in place all this time; it should not be ignored. Many big economies have this included. The place of this traditional health system is beyond just provision of care (because, yes, a lot needs to be moderated). Still, these people can be brought in as agents, and their already established, patronised platforms can be used to promote government activities. Yes, they can assist in care provision. In fact, they have to. Knowledge of healing from generation to generation should not be neglected or allowed to die out.

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

By Isah Kamisu Madachi

On Thursday, 4th December 2025, my cousin Tajuddeen bade us farewell on his way to Lafia, Nasarawa State. They left early in the morning in a Hummer bus. Around 10 a.m., they had a terrible accident in a town near Bauchi metropolis. All the passengers in the vehicle were badly injured. Tajuddeen, along with the bus driver and two others, instantly slipped into coma.

Other passengers were either with more than one fracture or several wounds. On the evening of 6 December, the driver’s suffering came to an end as he passed away. The following day, another one of the passengers in the coma also died. On 8 December, the third victim in coma breathed his last, leaving my cousin still in the ICU section of the Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University Teaching Hospital, Bauchi.

The cause of the accident was tyre failure. While they were on the road hoping to reach Jos in the afternoon, their back tyre burst and the bus somersaulted several times. The primary cause of the tyre failure was actually overload. Coincidentally, as I was on a phone call with a friend, he narrated how another terrible accident occurred close to my hometown as a result of tyre issue which instantly claimed two lives and left others badly injured.

I was really shocked and worried because not long ago, on a trip to Lagos, our own bus was carrying two commercial vehicles in addition to overloaded luggage of passengers and waybills. Even before the vehicles were brought, one had to ask whether humans would still get a seat after such loads were mounted. Lo and behold, the vehicles were arranged in a way that you couldn’t even see them inside the boot.

Last month, on our way back home from Kano, we witnessed another accident around Shuwarin town in Jigawa State. It was a jam-packed hummer bus obviously heading to either Damaturu or Maiduguri. They also had a tyre failure which resulted in several deaths. By the time we arrived at the accident scene, out of more than 20 passengers including the driver, only two people were still alive. The rest appeared lifeless.

If I were to narrate all the road accidents I have witnessed, most of them caused by tyre failure, I would have to write a book of a hundred pages. Road accidents are too many across Nigeria. Less than one week ago, I saw a picture on social media that stirred wide reactions. A commercial bus was overloaded to the extent that if one wanted to go out at a transit point, they had to pass through the boot as the doorway was blocked by bags. Even in the case of an emergency, no one could use the door because luggage completely covered the entrance. Many people commented that this is common in Nigerian motor parks.

When we talk about things that claim the lives of Nigerians, I believe road accidents is of course one of the biggest culprits, even more than insecurity in some cases. Anyone who travels widely by road knows this fact. And most of these accidents are avoidable if only we take transport safety seriously.

To bring to an end or at least reduce the intensity of the problem, we need a comprehensive transport policy that tackles overload and the abuse of luggage space. Parks should be mandated to use dedicated cargo buses. If a passenger’s luggage is above 10kg, it should automatically be transferred to a cargo vehicle, not stuffed into a bus carrying humans. For waybills, there should be separate buses whose only function is to transport goods from one state to another; especially the popular routes between Northern and Southern Nigeria or even within the North along routes like Kano-Borno, Taraba-Kaduna, Abuja-Adamawa and others.

Another important solution is the deployment of safety personnel to every major park. Their only job should be to inspect buses and car tyres to ensure they are in good condition before departure. Once there is no compliance, the driver must not be allowed to go. Of course in Nigeria some people may try to offer bribes to bypass checkpoints. To address that, these safety officers should not be local staff. They should report directly to an independent transport safety unit with strict oversight, rotating officers frequently to reduce compromise.

Still, digital systems can be introduced. Each bus should be scanned and cleared through an electronic checklist linked to a central database. If a bus fails safety checks, it should not receive the clearance code required to leave the park. With this kind of structure, even bribery becomes difficult to offer because safety approval will depend on digital authentication, not an individual officer’s discretion.

Nigeria needs to take road safety as seriously as other deadliest national issues. The number of lives cut short on our roads is heartbreaking. Families are losing loved ones every day due to accidents that could be prevented if we enforce discipline, regulate overload, inspect tyres, and treat transport safety as a matter of policy, not luck. 

Isah Kamisu Madachi is a policy analyst and development practitioner. He wrote from Abuja, and can be reached via: isahkamisumadachi@gmail.com

By Saifullahi Attahir

I had the privilege of attending the Africa Youth Health Summit organised by the Federation of African Medical Students’ Associations (FAMSA). It was a 3-day event, a highly engaging program in which over 200 young and passionate healthcare students and professionals gathered at the United Nations House to learn, network, discuss, and chart the future of the healthcare system in Africa.

The delegates come from many African countries and represent diverse cultures, languages, backgrounds, religions, and colours. We had the privilege of hearing from representatives of leading agencies, including the World Health Organisation (WHO), the Africa Centre for Disease Control (CDC), the United Nations, the Nigerian Minister for Youth, Information Technology experts, and several other non-governmental organisations (NGOs).

Several hands-on workshops were organised on public health advocacy, cutting-edge cancer management, transformational leadership, reproductive health issues, and policy formulation. I was fortunate to sit next to the Nigerian Minister for Youth, Mr Ayodele, and even took a memorable photo.  

As a side trip, we visited memorable places like the Africa Medical Centre of Excellence Hospital (AMCE), the NIKE ART AND GALLERIES, and Abuja Magic Land.

AMCE is a state-of-the-art facility built by AFREXIM Bank to curb health tourism by Africans to Europe. The facility is a replica of King’s College Hospital in London, featuring the latest technologies and expertise.

My visit to NIKE GALLERY left a lasting impression on me about the human ability to turn waste into wealth through talent. The gallery contains thousands of beautiful paintings, some made from trash (bola/shara). Indeed, Nigeria is full of untapped potential!

As a President, National Association of Jigawa State Medical Students (NAJIMS) National Body, I make the best use of the opportunity in this summit to network with a lot of like-minded individuals, to voice out my opinion, and to shine Jigawa State on the radar of African maps.

I am aware of the challenges of the healthcare system in Jigawa State, ranging from maternal mortality, under-5 infants mortality, vaccination misconceptions, mental health, adolescent challenges, infrastructural and manpower shortages. I’m fully equipped with the knowledge to help my dear state and medical students back home.

Panels were organised around essential topics such as the efficient use of Artificial Intelligence in medical practice, data-driven research, Japa syndrome, and youth inclusion in healthcare system leadership.

The trip was worth attending, the investment priceless, and the experience handy. I love travelling to important places like these, as it broadens my horizons, pushes me out of my comfort zone, lets me interact with like-minded individuals, and teaches me things books or classrooms could never teach me.

Saifullahi Attahir is the President of the National Association of Jigawa State Medical Students, NAJIMS National Body. He can be reached via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.

By Engr. Khalilah Yahya Aliyu 

September was the month dedicated to raising awareness of various medical conditions, among them hydrocephalus, which is commemorated in the United States on the 20th. This article was meant to have been published as my contribution to this course, but you will have to forgive me. The pen became too heavy for me to write as it required revisiting emotional wounds and acknowledging future fears.

I am a mum to a vibrant two-year-old blessed with this little-known condition–Hydrocephalus. Or so I thought, until I had him and realised hydrocephalus has quietly existed around us all along. During my final ultrasound before delivery, I curiously read the note from my OB-GYN: “mild ventricular dilatation.” At the time, “dilatation” only meant one thing to me, which was that my body was preparing to bring my baby into the world. What caught my attention, though, was how different this report was from the one I received during my first pregnancy.

As soon as I got home, I turned to Google: “What is mild ventricular dilatation in a foetus?” I learned it’s also called ventriculomegaly. It is a condition characterised by enlarged ventricles (fluid-filled spaces in the brain). The diagnosis was mild, and I read that it might normalise. I was still advised to watch for signs like visible veins on the scalp, projectile vomiting, and a rapid increase in head size.

Let me take you back a bit. Hydrocephalus, in direct translation from Greek, means ‘hydro’ (water) and ‘cephalus’ (head). Literally speaking, “water in the head”. But it’s not just any water. It’s cerebrospinal fluid (CSF). While CSF is essential, an excess of it leads to hydrocephalus.

Although some cases are congenital, it is critical to note that hydrocephalus can be acquired either due to old age or blunt trauma to the head. The case that scared me to my bones was when we were researching for a registered Medtronic vendor to purchase Ja’far’s shunt. We heard about a ten-year-old whose head accidentally hit a wall. The trauma distorted the flow of CSF, and he was not diagnosed on time till he nearly lost his mobility and sight. The shunt surgery restored his health.

I gave birth via emergency C-section after a prolonged labour. The first thing I checked when I held my baby was his head. It looked normal, covered in a full mass of hair. I couldn’t even see his scalp. Due to the labour complications, we stayed in the hospital longer. On the second day, neonatal jaundice set in, and my baby was admitted to the Intensive Care Baby Unit (ICBU). By the third day, I noticed something unusual. He vomited after every feed, and not just regular spit-up. It was forceful, the typical definition of projectile vomiting. I informed the paediatrician, who advised smaller, more frequent feeds. I followed the advice, but the vomiting persisted. Luckily for us, he had a voracious appetite, and after each episode, he’d eagerly refill his tummy.

We were discharged after 10 days. Grandma gave him his first haircut, and that’s when we noticed the intricate network of veins on his scalp. Visitors had all sorts of suggestions, from saffron oil to headache “ciwon kai” remedies. But deep down, I knew what it was. I anxiously waited for the final symptom to appear. Within days, his head began to enlarge, and his fontanelle (Madiga) wasn’t pulsating as it should. The vomiting continued. I turned to my husband and said solemnly, “Baby Ja’far needs urgent medical attention.” Grandma agreed. I trusted my instincts, and kudos to my husband, family, and friends for providing me with the strength to keep hope alive. They left no stone unturned to make this trial bearable.

At precisely one month old, we took him to Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital. We first saw a paediatrician at the GOPD, who ordered a scan, and my fears were confirmed. He has Dandy Walker Syndrome (DWS), which has led to excess fluid buildup in his head. I cried. Yes, I did. But I was also hopeful because I had read that early intervention could improve his chances of living an everyday life. We were given a medicine, Acetazolamide, that must be compounded to suit a child’s dosage. The medication is to reduce cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) production and help manage intracranial pressure. We were then transferred to the Neurosurgical Department, where we met the neurosurgeons on their clinic day, a Wednesday. A strike by resident doctors worked in our favour, allowing Ja’far to be seen directly by a consultant neurosurgeon. 

I mentioned how warm his head felt, and the consultant reassured me it wasn’t related to hydrocephalus. “He’s like any other baby,” he said. “He can have a fever”. That was the beginning of our journey. I was frantic. I just wanted him treated quickly to relieve the cranial pressure. He needed brain surgery to insert a shunt that would regulate the CSF flow. Delays could cause irreversible damage. The medical team was dedicated and compassionate, particularly the doctors. He had the surgery successfully at two months old, and we watched him ace his developmental milestones. We celebrated his second shunt anniversary on June 19, 2025.

After Ja’far’s diagnosis, my curiosity deepened. I consumed every piece of literature I could find related to hydrocephalus. Wednesdays became my learning days, not just from the doctors but from fellow patients and caregivers. I remember overhearing a professor of neurosurgery advising a mother of another shunted warrior: “You and your partner should properly plan subsequent pregnancies. Gone are the days of ‘just taking in'”. He emphasised starting folic acid six months before conception, staying healthy, and avoiding harmful practices. And of course, make prayer your closest ally as you follow the healthiest regimen possible. Take your child to the hospital because even with limited resources, our healthcare workers continue to perform wonders, saving lives every day. They are our true heroes. 

It is pertinent to add, though solemn, that a shunt is a foreign body and can be prone to infection, blockage or malfunction. You must be alert; should you observe the slightest recurrence of any of the pre-surgery symptoms, hasten to the hospital for proper diagnosis. The doctors often reassure us that milestones might be delayed for our warriors. Still, with the appropriate care, they accomplish them over time. Seeing the scars where the shunt is placed, be it the catheter or the pump, and knowing that it is going to be there for life, can be heartbreaking. But I have learned to overcome this feeling by viewing it as a lifesaver because without it, you might not even be able to hold your bundle of joy. Brace up, not everyone’s journey is the same, but be ready for bumps. They can come in the form of incessant headaches, seizures or double incontinence.

I cannot conclude without a strong plea to the government. Congenital diseases are rare. Ja’far’s DWS, for example, ranges from 1 in 10,000 to 35,000 live births. Setting aside funds that low-income parents can access to cover medical expenses will go a long way toward improving our warriors’ quality of life. Make the health sector more robust. Map out a lasting plan to eradicate strikes. It might have worked in our favour, but it has also stalled the needed intervention for some of our warriors, leading to irreversible brain damage. Mandatory, accessible antenatal care, overseen by qualified medical practitioners, will help preserve the rarity of these conditions.

To all my fellow hydro mums, be grateful to the Almighty for the gift and celebrate your little warriors. Whether it’s an inch or a milestone, every step is worth celebrating. Also, you are not alone. We have a community, and we’re here to support one another, always. To everyone who stood by us throughout this journey, I want to say thank you. Where could we have found the strength to carry on without you?

Engr. Khalilah Yahya Aliyu wrote via khalilah20@gmail.com.

By: Abdulhameed Ridwanullah

On July 22, 2015, the then-spouse of Nigerian Afrobeats queen Tiwa Savage, Tunji “Tee Billz” Balogun, announced the birth of their son, Jamil, on social media with an image of the father and son’s hands. This, no doubt, was an intimate moment. But beneath that act was the normalization of what researchers described as “sharenting”. Sharenting is a pervasive practice of documenting every stage of a child’s life online. From the baby shower, scan pictures, delivery room and other “first” images in the life of the baby documented for public gaze, sharenting has become normalized to an extent that those calling for caution are regarded as old-school.

Sharenting is now recognized globally as a growing digital privacy concern because it exposes children to long-term data risks they cannot consent to. But in Nigeria, the consequences are amplified by our unique digital ecosystem.
What makes sharenting particularly risky in Nigeria is not only what online platforms do, but what we (users) do. On the users’ part, Nigerians’ platform usage has shown a pattern of resistance that outsmarts platforms’ regulations. In my research on platform resistance, I argued that Nigerians have developed what I call a digital okada culture: creative, evasive practices that bypass platform safeguards the same way commercial motorcycle riders bypass formal road rules. Screenshots, screen recording, parallel WhatsApp accounts, anonymous repost pages and third-party aggregators routinely move supposedly “private” content into the open, uncontrolled publics.

We have seen photos of the naming ceremonies privately shared on WhatsApp status, making their way anonymously to Instagram gossip pages like Instablog9ja and other similar gossip blogs. Simply put, a controlled WhatsApp status update can end up on strangers’ phones instantaneously. Our digital culture in Nigeria is a highly porous ecosystem where content easily escapes parents’ control, which complicates sharenting.
It is instinctive for proud parents to want to celebrate their joy with friends and family. Culturally and religiously speaking, giving birth is not a small feat. It is one of the memorable achievements in one’s life.

The magnitude and social significance of it alone are good reasons to celebrate and post children online. For diaspora families, social media posts also help them connect with grandchildren and relatives not seen physically. On the surface, this looks like a harmless practice. But once it is placed inside a digital okada culture, the comfort of “I only shared it with my contacts” becomes an illusion.

Even mainstream financial institutions have begun to warn that oversharing children’s information online can create future vulnerabilities. A 2018 BBC news report indicated that Barclays Bank forecasted that by 2030, sharenting could result in £670 million in online fraud. The bank added that parents might be “lulled into a false sense of security” without grasping the long-term implications of oversharing online. That warning is not just about money; it is about the long tail of our children’s data.

But financial fraud is only a small fragment of the risk. The bigger problem is how children’s data feeds an entire economic system. As I have written previously, the “paradox of social media is that a digital footprint is both transient and permanent”. It is transient because our post quickly disappears from most feeds, but the metadata is stored permanently in corporate databases. This is what Harvard professor Shoshana Zuboff calls surveillance capitalism.

Sharenting allows surveillance capitalism to thrive because parents voluntarily funnel massive intimate behavioural data about their children into algorithms. This behavioural data could be monetised by building a detailed, lifelong predictive profile of the children. According to privacy researchers, children’s photos that people share online are being used to train facial recognition algorithms and AI systems.

Think about that! Our children’s faces are being used to teach machines without our or their consent. Parents’ excitement often leads to the surrender of children’s data to platforms without their consent. Even celebrities who build careers on social media visibility, like Rihanna and Cardi B, are choosing to obscure their children’s faces to mitigate risk. Drake famously raps in the Emotionless track that “I wasn’t hiding my kid from the world; I was hiding the world from my kid”.

Many Nigerian parents take comfort in the illusion of privacy of End-to-End Encrypted messaging platforms. They assume that posting baby photos on WhatsApp Status, especially to a restricted contact list, is safer than throwing them on Instagram. Messages on WhatsApp are encrypted, no doubt; however, that alone does not mean data extraction isn’t taking place.

Metadata about what we share (e.g., baby photos), who we talk to, when, location, duration, and frequency are extractable and shareable data that the platforms can use to build a behavioural pattern.
In other words, even when images disappear, their informational shadows remain.

Beyond the momentary applause and privacy concern, what happens when these children grow up and do not appreciate their lives being displayed online and their privacy being taken away? Teenagers are already suing their parents in Europe for unconsented exposure. It is only a matter of time before a similar conflict emerges in Nigeria. I am not a technological Luddite. Far from it. I am just a concerned technology researcher who cares about the use and misuse of social media.

In a country shaped by digital okada culture, parents cannot assume that what they post about their children will stay where they intended. Sharenting is not just about cute photos; it is about handing our children’s futures to platforms, algorithms and a porous digital public they did not choose.

Nigeria needs greater digital literacy around children’s rights. There is also a need for more public awareness campaigns and discussion about consent beginning at home. Parents must think beyond the moment of joy and consider the digital futures they are constructing for their children.

Abdulhameed Ridwanullah is a researcher at Media for Empowerment and Impact Lab, Northeastern University, Boston, USA. He can be reached at olaitanrido@yahoo.com

By Ummi Umar

I write with a broken heart. A heart so bruised it feels shattered. There is no day I open Instagram, X, or WhatsApp without stumbling on another story that tears at the soul, another reminder that insecurity, banditry, and sheer lawlessness have become a constant shadow over this country. It almost never gets better for us.

For weeks now, it has been one tragedy after another. One kidnapping case replaced by the next. Little girls are taken from their schools. Families plunged into fear. We have reached a point where people whisper painful prayers like “may Nigeria never happen to me”, because we have watched the nation turn against its own.

Only last week, schoolgirls in Kebbi were abducted. And even though news has just broken that they have been freed, the joy of their return cannot erase the trauma of their ordeal or the deeper truth it exposes about our country. In that same week, more than three hundred students were taken from a Catholic school. These were girls who simply wanted to learn, to grow, to dream, to build a life. Their only “fault” was the desire to be educated. And then Nigeria happened to them.

There is no way to describe the agony of sending your child to school and then seeing on the news that she has been taken by ruthless, faceless men. You do not know whether she has eaten, whether she is being harmed, what fears she is battling, or what pain she is enduring. Is it a crime to be a girl child in this country? Why must she carry so much suffering on her small shoulders?

The rate of insecurity in Nigeria today is beyond alarming. And our leaders, what exactly are they doing? Must it be your daughter, your niece, your cousin, your wife before you feel any urgency? Must tragedy knock at your own door before you remember the weight of responsibility?

Those who lead us, those who hold authority, are meant to use every tool within their reach to protect citizens of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Yet what do we see? Are they asleep? Is ordering schools to vacate the answer? When there is even a whisper of protest, government mobilises soldiers with unbelievable speed. But when children are carried away by bandits, the same urgency disappears as though the nation cannot see what is happening.

If you want to understand misplaced priorities, look no further than Nigerian leadership.

Sending students home is not a solution. It strips these girls of their fundamental right to education. And then what happens when they resume? Will the cycle of fear, evacuation and abduction continue? What truly is the way forward?

Our leaders must seek real, practical solutions to these recurring horrors. They must rise to their duties and be held accountable. Our girls are suffering. They are far too young to bear this kind of trauma. No girl, no child, no human being deserves this. No parent deserves the torment of knowing that their daughter is in the hands of men who may do only God knows what to her.

Our love, our prayers and our support remain with these girls and with their families. We thank God for the safe return of the abducted Kebbi schoolgirls, but we refuse to let that relief distract us from the painful truth that no child should ever have been taken in the first place. 

We continue to pray for every child still in captivity, and for the strength of the families waiting for their return. May our leaders finally be held accountable. May our girls be protected, truly and consistently. And may Nigeria never happen to any of us.

Rabi Ummi Umar is an intern at IMPR and can be reached via: rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Salim Yunusa

Art Xplosion 4.0, the youth-focused art and mental health festival organised by Friends Advocacy for Mental Health Initiative (FAM Initiative), concluded in Zaria after a week-long celebration of creativity, resilience, and cultural identity. The event, the first of its kind in the city, marked a major step toward exposing young people to art as a tool for emotional expression, cultural grounding, and mental well-being.

Over 100 children and adolescents participated in the program, which featured bead-making, painting, mosaic art, upcycled crafts, gypsum art, traditional performances, cultural showcases, storytelling, and an art exhibition. Participants were drawn from different communities across Sabon Gari Local Government and beyond, including young people with invisible disabilities and those from underserved socio-economic backgrounds.

For the organisers, Art Xplosion 4.0 was more than an event. It was a statement about the role of creativity in strengthening mental resilience among young people navigating social pressure, identity struggles, and emotional challenges.

Program Manager and Lead Artist Aisha Ahmad Ibrahim said the week-long festival reaffirmed her conviction that art remains one of the most accessible and transformative tools for youth mental health. She said, “Art Xplosion 4.0 was truly a wholesome event for me that reaffirmed that what I do is worthy,” she said. “Despite the hassles and rigorous work I handled as Programs Manager and Lead Artist, I genuinely enjoyed every part of the experience, from preparation and procurement to organising and leading my team. The diversity of participants initially made me sceptical about coordination, but art once again proved to be a natural medium of expression. Healthy children, children and youth with neurological and non-visible disabilities, and those from low academic and socio-economic communities all expressed their artistic abilities beautifully. My team and I moved easily between groups to guide and support them. With about 100 participants from almost all parts of Sabon Gari and beyond, Art Xplosion 4.0 was a deeply fulfilling success.”

Curator Jecinta Egbim described the edition as a powerful testing ground for the resilience strategies she teaches adolescents during mental health outreaches. “This year’s Art Xplosion 4.0 was an entire experience, not just for our participants but for me,” she said. “Going through some of the tests of my own resilience strategies, I have seen that resilience is truly the key. Tools like art, effective communication, emotional regulation, support systems and outlets helped us push through.”

She added that the implementation process itself came with emotional and logistical challenges. “We faced hard times, tough ‘no’s, shut doors, and some interesting stakeholder management issues, but we emerged stronger. One of our biggest successes was simply seeing the week through from start to finish. We received multiple reports from adolescents, parents, school owners, community leaders, and caregivers. Even two days after the event, a mother visited our office with her daughter to thank us. It was humbling to see the impact extend into homes. That was the essence of this year’s edition: Art Xplosion should not just be immersive on-site, but a holistic experience that follows participants into their houses, schools, and workplaces.”

She noted that even with less than 20 sponsors supporting 100 participants, the team stayed committed to impact. “Fundraising was tight and discouraging, but our successes outweighed every challenge. It reminded us of what we are really made of.”

One of the program’s partners, NEST AI, highlighted the deeper emotional significance of art for young people. Its founder, Yazid S. Mika’il, said the initiative reflected how creativity can help youths build confidence and shape their futures. “Art speaks to one’s emotions and the core of being… it helps young people realise that they matter, and can determine what a beautiful and healthy future looks like,” he said.

Poetic Wednesdays Initiative, also a partner, expressed satisfaction with the program’s impact. Founder Salim Yunusa said the organisation was proud to support an initiative that brings creativity and healing into the lives of young people in Northern Nigeria. “We are pleased with what this initiative achieved, especially in Zaria,” he said. “We hope to see more of this replicated across Zaria and northern Nigeria at large.”

The Art Xplosion model uses creative expression to help children and adolescents communicate feelings, build confidence, improve emotional regulation, and reconnect with cultural identity. Many of the participants came from families dealing with psychosocial stressors, developmental challenges, or limited access to creative opportunities.

FAM Initiative reported that participants showed improvements in communication, empathy, and artistic expression. Parents and community leaders also noted that the activities helped their children feel calmer, more expressive, and more connected to their heritage.

This year’s edition introduced an expanded cultural showcase, featuring participants who displayed traditional attire, shared cultural stories, and performed dances. The art exhibition and auction also allowed the public to appreciate the creative output of the young participants.

With Art Xplosion 4.0, Zaria has now hosted its first large-scale festival that blends art, cultural pride, inclusion, and mental health advocacy. Organisers say the program’s success has opened a new chapter for community-driven youth development initiatives in Kaduna State.

FAM Initiative announced that future editions will expand mentorship opportunities, deepen community outreach, and strengthen support structures for children and adolescents dealing with emotional and developmental challenges.

As the dust settles on this year’s event, the organisers say their biggest hope is that the young participants, many of whom are experiencing structured art therapy for the first time, will carry their newfound confidence, skills, and cultural pride into the next chapters of their lives. Art Xplosion, they say, is not just an event. It is becoming a movement for healing, expression, and resilience across Northern Nigeria.