Sometimes, when I pick up my phone, I’m overwhelmed by what I see and read. Stories of pain. Of loss. Of preventable illness. Messages from people holding on to hope by a thread. People asking questions they should have gotten answers to years ago.
It can feel heavy. But it also reminds me why I started. I may not be able to help everybody, but I will keep doing all I can in my own little way. I will keep showing up. Helping people make better health choices. Making health something you don’t have to fear, but something you can take charge of.
It’s been 10 years of being Aproko Doctor… and I’ve barely scratched the surface. This is a lifelong mission.
To those who have supported, shared, learned, thank you. AprokoNation! All the EMEKAs and NKECHIs, I see you.
And to you reading this: however you can, in your own way, don’t forget to extend your hand to others too. Lend a helping hand.
Let’s keep changing the narrative, together.
I act like I am grown but my heart raced fast each time I hear, ‘Can we talk?’ Oh Chi’m! What have I done again? Just tell me. Don’t ask me if we can talk😒
I act like I am grown but deep down I panic every time I check my account balance because adulthood comes with bills, and responsibilities don’t care that I’m still figuring things out🙃
I act like I am grown but deep down I’m tired of falling sick because healthcare is expensive and unpredictable. And eating healthily feels like a robbery of your bank account! And even a trip to the hospital feels like a risk😒
I act like I am grown but deep down there’s this fear of being delayed in life longer than I must have imagined. Oh yes, I am not delusional not to believe that there won’t be bumps. It’s safer to be realistic than end up being a lot more disappointed ☹️
I act like I am grown but deep down I sometimes just want to be held and be told that it’s okay not to have it all together, that I can breathe, even when life feels like it’s racing ahead of me😔
I act like I am grown but deep down there’s this fear that runs inside of me each time I miss my parents’ calls a multiple times. I ask myself:
What happened?
Why did they call this much?
Did anyone die?
Who was rushed to the hospital?
I start to feel unsettled 🥲
working on a story and would love to hear from people with albinism (PWA) in Nigeria, esp. those who’ve faced bullying, stigma, or are being managed for skin cancer. if this sounds like you or someone you know, please DM me or email [email protected].