Kogi_Pharmacist💊

Pharmacist with a difference.
Activist and a humanitarian.

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye Amen oooo

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye The way I rush to open your notification.
Chaiiii

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye God abeggggggg

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@SolaTheAnalyst How about Ontario and Alberta?

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@TheOnlyKemi She was actually present, smiling at you and super proud of who you have become.
May her soul keep resting.

Congratulations 👏

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye Amen

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye God Abeegggggggg 🙏

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

Do you remember when you joined X? I do! #MyXAnniversary

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye Amen oooooooo

[Lady B - IYALODE OF X @mobola_ade]

My name is Zainab. I’m 27 years old. An SS.

That is, I live with sickle cell disease.
My parents are both AS.

Oh, they They knew.
They were told.
They still married.

They said God approved it. They said love would be enough. They said faith would cover the consequences.

I am the consequence.

I was diagnosed before I was two. My childhood memories are not playgrounds or cartoons,they are; hospitals, needles, and adults whispering when they thought I couldn’t hear.

In primary school, I missed classes so often that teachers stopped asking why. Some classmates thought I was pretending. Some thought I was cursed. I learned early how to smile while feeling different.

By secondary school, the pain episodes became more frequent. I would wake up excited for school and end the day on a hospital bed. I watched my mates grow normally while my life moved in pauses, school, hospital, recovery, repeat.

At 15, I lost my younger brother to sickle cell.
We were both SS.

That day changed me forever.

My parents broke down in front of me — crying, apologizing, saying “We followed faith. We didn’t think…”
But the damage had already been done.

Sometimes I forgive them.
Sometimes I resent them deeply.
Both feelings live in me.

In university, I tried to be normal. I joined sickle cell advocacy groups, volunteered with awareness organizations, spoke at events, encouraged parents to test their genotype. People call me strong. They call me a warrior.

What they don’t see is me crying alone at night after another silent pain episode.
They don’t see the fear that comes with planning a future in a body that doesn’t always cooperate.

And Relationships?
That’s another wound.

I’ve been loved… briefly.
The moment conversations turn serious about marriage, children, commitment….they leave. Some are honest. Some ghost me. Some promise forever and disappear quietly.

One man once said he would do anything for me. He talked about taking me abroad, better care, a life without fear. I believed him. For the first time, my heart rested.

Then one day, he stopped calling.

That heartbreak triggered one of the worst crises I’ve had as an adult. Not because of physical stress but because hope collapsed.

Now I’m older. The pain episodes come differently. Less dramatic, but more exhausting. My body recovers slower. My fears are heavier. I ask myself questions my parents never asked each other.

I am strong, yes.
But I am tired.

If you are AS and the person you love is AS, please love your unborn children enough to stop and think. Faith is not a license to ignore knowledge. I am a proof to that

I didn’t ask to be a lesson.
But if my life can prevent another child from being born into avoidable pain, then my voice matters.

That’s why I’m writing this to you. Because people listens to you and this story needs to be heard. I hope that your audience share this till it reaches those who are about to walk by faith and not by sight, Sickle Cell is real!.

Adeyinka, keep rescuing lives, I love how you raise awareness and say the truth unapologetically, those who do not like you are probably those who wish they could be you. Have you met you?. Oh,I see you Queen Ade💪🏻

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@MTNNG @NgComCommission Your dm is locked

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@MTNNG Lie
Thief
Scammers
Very unserious people

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye Amennnnn

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@big_yemm My padi for life @AquafinaNigeria

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Gatzby_1 @ObiakorNkem Now they don beat you wotowoto.

Better luck next time.

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Gatzby_1 @ObiakorNkem Sir,
You say wetin😆😆😆

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Olufemiloye Amennnnnnn

[Kogi_Pharmacist💊 @Jattomycin_]

@Ebuka E shock me too ooo @Ebuka
We should be asking you 😆😆😆

[Dr Folaseye (ENT/Head &Neck Surgeon) @DrFolaseye]

His Excellency,
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, GCFR
President, Federal Republic of Nigeria

RE: THE URGENT NEED TO STOP THE GASLIGHTING OF THE NIGERIAN HEALTH SYSTEM

I write to you today not as a politician seeking favor, but as a concerned citizen, a medical professional, and a frontline witness to the systemic collapse of the Nigerian health sector. It is disheartening that despite the loud cries of healthcare professionals, the Nigerian Medical Association’s (NMA) exhaustive engagements, and the glaring realities confronting our hospitals, the Federal Government under your leadership continues to treat the health crisis with nonchalance and political spin.

After the recent meeting with the NMA, Nigerians expected concrete, actionable plans—a blueprint for resuscitating a sector on life support. What we have instead received are empty platitudes, recycled rhetoric, and an insulting attempt to gaslight the medical community into believing that “plans are in place.” Mr. President, no plan exists when doctors are emigrating in droves, nurses are preparing for a nationwide warning strike, and the Medical Guild in Lagos State is grappling with arbitrary salary reductions.

Let me be clear: Nigeria is in a full-blown medical crisis. This is not a perception issue; it is not a narrative battle. It is a lived reality in every underfunded teaching hospital, every overcrowded emergency ward, and every overworked health administrator drowning in bureaucratic neglect. The people are dying—not figuratively, but literally—and the government’s response has been dangerously flippant.

Mr. President, this is not an election campaign. This is not a moment for optics or propaganda. The health of a nation is non-negotiable. It must not be mortgaged for political expediency. While Nigerian doctors endure months of unpaid salaries, slashed remuneration, and unbearable workloads, the silence from the Federal Government is deafening. The recent unilateral salary cuts imposed on the Medical Guild in Lagos State—an APC-controlled state—speaks volumes of the disdain with which healthcare professionals are regarded.

The looming strike by nurses nationwide is not a threat; it is a desperate cry for help. Healthcare workers are not saboteurs. They are the last line of defense between a fragile population and a broken healthcare infrastructure. To ignore them is to declare war on the Nigerian people.

Overwork has become a badge of suffering for healthcare managers and practitioners who are forced to do more with less. The mental and physical toll is unprecedented. The ripple effect of this overburden is a compromised quality of care, avoidable deaths, and an accelerating brain drain. You cannot expect loyalty from a sector you continually dehumanize.

Mr. President, history will not be kind to a leadership that watches its citizens perish while it debates semantics. The time for pretense is over. Sincerity, urgency, and decisive action are now mandatory. The health sector demands an immediate, transparent rescue plan—a plan developed with stakeholders, not political cronies.

This is a defining moment for your presidency. Will you be remembered as the leader who restored dignity to Nigeria’s health sector, or as another politician who sacrificed it on the altar of politics?

Dr. Adefolaseye Adebomi Adebayo, F.W.A.C.S, FMCORL (Nig.)
26th July 2025

The choice is yours. And time is running