REALITY CHECK
1. You will not be rewarded for bad behavior.
2. Being told ‘No’ is part of life. Get over it.
3. You are free to make your choice, you are not free of the consequences.
4. Life is not fair.
5. You are not the boss.
6. The world doesn’t revolve around you
Even the things we call “valuable” rarely remain valuable forever.
Time humbles everything eventually.
And maybe that is life’s gentlest lesson; to hold moments with humility, hold people with kindness, and never assume that today is the final shape of tomorrow.
Time changes money.
Time changes nations.
But nothing in life stays the same forever.
In 1976, a newspaper headline shook Nigeria because of ₦20. Back then, ₦20 had weight. It could feed a family, settle problems, and bring peace to a home.
Today, many people would not bend down to pick it from the ground.
That is how quietly time rewrites the meaning of things.
The struggles people carry today may become stories tomorrow. Economies rise and fall. Prices change. Power changes hands.
REALITY CHECK
1. You will not be rewarded for bad behavior.
2. Being told ‘No’ is part of life. Get over it.
3. You are free to make your choice, you are not free of the consequences.
4. Life is not fair.
5. You are not the boss.
6. The world doesn’t revolve around you
You can’t even doctor in peace anymore in Nigeria. The days of hanging stethoscope in your car are over. My thoughts and prayers are with Dr Abu Babatunde.
Ask your mom, aunties, wives and gf, if they have had a cervical screening ever and/or if their screening is up-to-date?
A lot of people don’t even know what that is - sad reality of an average Nigerian in Nigeria.
Anyways, ignorance is not an excuse. This is your reminder to get screened.
BLS is a basic training in the Western countries. Even kids have an idea of what it entails, you never know where it comes in handy.
8 out of 10 of ‘you know’ have no idea what it is. A random fellow collapse = ‘area boys’ are first responders + TikTok content made.
Learn about CPR and teach your kids.
Selah!
Listen to me,
An egg is not a chicken.
Potential is not success.
A promise is not a result.
Life does not reward early excitement,
It only rewards finished work.
Stay focused, stay humbled, finish first then celebrate later.
I will never forget this night.
It was winter in Neurosurgery, many years ago. I had just taken handover, barely thirty minutes into my shift as the night SHO. My coffee was still too hot to drink when my pager exploded with a fast bleep.
Story alert‼️
If you’ve ever worked in a hospital, you know a fast bleep is different. The corridor air suddenly feels heavier. Your legs move before your brain catches up. Because 9 times out of 10, someone’s life is hanging by a thread.
I ran.
The call was for a patient who had suddenly collapsed on the ward- no reported head injury, which was the only relief I could cling to.
But when I arrived, what I saw was poetry in chaos:
One nurse had already rolled out the ECG machine, another had the resus trolley ready and open, telemetry flashing, blood sugars checked(hx of diabetes). The team was moving like a well-rehearsed orchestra.
I performed a quick examination, slipped an IV line in, drew bloods, my brain firing faster than my hands.
I glanced at the ECG printout, just one strip and my stomach dropped.🥲
STEMI. A heart attack. A big one.
My adrenaline spiked.
“Dear God… this man is having a silent heart attack,” I whispered to myself.
Immediately we were in motion:
Bloods flying to the lab, emergency meds drawn, a healthcare assistant sprinting to bleep the medical registrar. My neurosurgical registrar appeared from theatre, still smelling faintly of disinfectant and adrenaline😅.
I was already on the phone with the PCI team - the heart experts, faxing the ECG, pacing the floor, waiting for their decision.
Then the medical registrar called back:
“Are you sure it’s a STEMI?”
The stereotype hit me like a brick: surgical teams apparently can’t read ECGs.
“Come and see for yourself,” I told him, still clutching the ECG, still on the PCI line.
Within minutes, we had arranged an emergency transfer - lights, sirens, the full drama. The patient, pale and sweating, was loaded onto the trolley to leave.
Just then, the medical registrar burst through the doors. He was breathless, fresh from another emergency and the exhaustion on his face softened the tension in the room.
He looked at the ECG.
Then he looked at me.
And simply nodded.
Hours later, when the dust settled, he came into the office.
He thanked me.
He apologised for doubting me.
And he smiled,
“Apparently, surgical teams can read ECGs after all.”
The best part?
The patient survived.
Walked back onto the ward days later, chatting, laughing, alive.
He thanked us with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears and we all felt it.
On nights like that, medicine isn’t just science.
It’s human beings fighting together, in the blur between chaos and hope, to keep another human heart beating.
What’s wild is that both situations showed how interconnected the world economy really is. Back in the Depression era, countries were locked into the gold standard and couldn’t respond flexibly to the crisis.
But just like in 1930, China didn’t take it lying down. They hit back with their own tariffs, and suddenly, farmers in the U.S. were struggling to sell soybeans overseas. Supply chains got disrupted, and prices went up for everything from electronics to washing machines.