Summer Clinical Practice in Nigeria

There’s this cool thing we get to know in medical school, and it goes by different names, but for the purpose of this post, it’s going to be called : “clinical training”.

Summer break, rather than laze around or hang out with friends (though you can be certain we find tine for that), we spend managed hours in the hospital, assigned in various departments to different doctors, hopefully acquiring practical skills/knowledge and brushing up on what we had learned so far.

The system may vary from school to school, but because medicine is medicine, the formula stays fairly the same.

However, for the first time, I would be practicing at home, in Nigeria.

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For Nigeria or The day We held Freedom in Our Hands

 We followed the beating drums to dance out our hearts

stomping wildly with abandon against the earth, the ground raises dust around us in response

hands thrown up in ecstasy, in pain, in relief

the night rang loud with our cries, we didn’t let them sleep

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Excerpt : From a WIP (or How I Learned To Distrust My Parents)

When I was 9 years old, my parents decided to have me moved onto first year of secondary school.

This would mean me skipping Primary 5 . This was before the “Primary 6” system was instituted. it would be happening the year after I leave, interestingly enough .

I was excited (my parents would have been talented sales personnel). The idea of a secondary school was a “big girl” one, and I was eager to leave all my childish things behind. My Mom gave me the choice of either boarding (living on school grounds) or being a day student (not doing so), and even though the latter was the familiar option, I chose to board.

I chose boarding school, people.. Like, who does that??

My Mom was surprised, but she went along with it.

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