It's that time of the month again.
House officers in federal centers are drowning in debt and salary is over a month late.
You people at MDCN should be ashamed of yourself.
It's obviously not a glitch anymore but intentional delay.
Nigerians won't bat an eye paying a celebrity tailor 1m for a bespoke attire.
They'd happily pay a lawyer 500k for consultation, a lawyer that's not yet a SAN oo.
They'd pay a photographer 2m for a 1 day event, and 150k for a 15mins studio session and 5 pictures.
They'd pay a travel consultant 200k for a 10 minutes over the phone consultation.
They'd pay house agents 10k each to see one property.
They'd pay an MC 500k to speak at their father's burial.
But God forbid that the hospital demands that they pay to see a consultant doctor, then all hell breaks loose.
That's where they draw the line.
The Nigerian Association of Resident Doctors should not have to beg for what has already been agreed upon. The Federal Government signed a deal on the Professional Allowance Table, and now it wants to abandon it. This is not governance; it is betrayal.
Our resident doctors are the last line of defence in hospitals that are already collapsing. They work gruelling hours, in impossible conditions, for pay that insults their sacrifice. And now, the government seeks to take away the little that was promised? The Tinubu administration must demonstrate commitment to the issues: 19 months of unpaid Professional Allowance arrears; promotion arrears gathering dust; a Medical Residency Training Fund stuck in bureaucratic limbo; and a government that treats its doctors as an afterthought and remains unconcerned as they flee the country in droves.
Every doctor Nigeria loses to the UK, Canada, or Saudi Arabia is a failure of leadership, not a failure of patriotism. You cannot ask people to serve a nation that refuses to honour its own word.
I stand with NARD. Pay what you owe. Honour what you signed. Or explain to 200 million Nigerians why their hospitals will go dark on Tuesday. -AA
Being a House Officer fresh out of medical school in a Naija teaching hospital is how they collect your fresh doctor dreams and slowly grind them into garri with the hospital floor.
Dr Chinedu just graduated from UNTH. His ward coat was crisp, trousers with ironed edges that could cut paper, stethoscope shining like medal and parents proud.
For his mind, he's thinking; write primaries sharp, enter Cardiology residency, finish in record time, go to India for fellowship in intervention cardiology.
He resumes housemanship with full chest and naive optimism. He thinks; “This one year na just stepping stone. Finish am, smash exams, become cardiologist. This is my calling!”
But by month three, Dr Chinedu Bumbum don already begin to smoke.
Within five months, he has already done:
🩺 Done back-to-back 36-hour calls like say na normal routine
🩺 Clerk patients, draw blood, chase labs, write notes till his hand beg for mercy
🩺 Covered multiple wards when senior doctors no show or travel
🩺 Run from medical to casualty to labour ward like person wey dem send on errand
Five whole months without one single kobo salary. Not even transport money. Every 18th, NARD go promise dem dey promise “this week e go enter.”
MDCN keep whining him. After six months, they eventually pay one month out of the six he has worked.
Chinedu keeps surviving on pure water, garri, call food and pure belief.
Then typhoid + malaria decide to do combo on him. His body became hot like oven, and he no fit stand up for four days.
When Dr Chinedu finally drag himself back to the ward, management call him sharp: “You were absent without leave. So your house job extended by 2 weeks.”
Extra two weeks. Unpaid. Because he dared to fall sick.
He begged that he was only absent because he was sick, but all his pleas fell on dead ears. His seniors turned their backs on him.
They called him lazy. Them say he no fit work under pressure. That he's too soft.
But the wahala isn't just in the hospital. Feeding na serious daily battle and transport na war. He swallows his pride and borrow from Opay.
Quick loan. “Once salary arrears enter, I go clear everything,” he tells himself. And since salary no enter for the next 4 months. Interest begin climb like fuel price.
The calls start morning, afternoon, night: “Hello sir, your repayment date don pass o.” Different voices. Different threats.
Dr Chinedu changes his number one day like thief. Block everywhere. Stop picking unknown calls.
He drags the remaining months in pure survival mode. Tired. Broke. Angry. Disillusioned. Furious.
Last day of house job. Dr Chinedu signs out, drops coat into waste bin, waka out through that same gate he entered one year ago with big big dreams.
Inside his heart, one solid resolution land like rock: “I will never do residency in this country. Never. Not cardiology. Not anything. Not here.”
The same boy wey started with fire in his eyes come out with only house job certificate and one broken dream.
We laugh through the tears but the unpaid labour, the debt, the sickness punishment, the loan app harassment, and the shattered passion are very, very real.
Many house officers finish and make this same vow. Nigerian doctors deserve way better than this kind system.