One reason people underestimate dentistry is because they think medicine is about knowing things.
Dentistry reminds you that medicine is also about doing things.
Knowledge matters.
But at some point, your hands have to be as educated as your brain.
The hierarchy problem in healthcare starts early.
A senior tells a junior, "You haven't even written First MB."
Years later that junior becomes a consultant and tells a house officer, "You've not seen anything yet."
The faces change.
The script remains the same.
A lot of students think discipline means forcing yourself to study.
The highest-performing students I have met rarely force themselves.
They make studying so normal that it becomes their default activity
Other people schedule time to study
They schedule time to stop studying.
My friend has been talking to a UK-based guy for 6 months.
During that time, her phone got damaged (which she fixed herself), her MacBook was stolen (sheโs currently saving to replace it), and her rent expires this month. She has already paid for a new place but still needs money to sort out a few things before moving in.
Heโs aware of everything sheโs been dealing with.
For the first time, she directly asked him if he could assist in any way. He didnโt. He has also never offered any form of help throughout the 6 months theyโve been talking.
Sheโs now decided to end the talking stage.
Do you think sheโs being entitled, or is she justified in walking away?
So I was doing a study on the experiences of students who had distinctions in medical school because I wanted to get distinctions myself.
And I began to find out something very interesting.
Most people think that students who get distinctions in medical school are people who read for 12 hours every day.
People who read for 13 hours.
16 hours.
People who do all-nighters every night.
People who read like superheroes.
That was what I thought too.
But what shocked me was something entirely different.
Most of the students I came across who consistently got distinctions read for about four hours every day.
Now, the shocking part was not that they read for four hours.
The shocking part was that they read every single day.
It was more of a consistency thing than an intensity thing.
So I began looking deeper into how these people actually studied.
And honestly, it was surprisingly simple.
Every class they attended, they made sure they understood that lecture that same day.
They reviewed the slides.
They revised the notes.
They tried to understand everything that had been taught before the day ended.
The next day, they would read it again.
Then move on to whatever new material had been taught.
They usually had a plan.
A structure.
A system.
And they simply followed it.
What stood out to me was that they started reading from the beginning of the semester.
Not two weeks before exams.
Not one month before exams.
From the beginning.
Think about that for a second.
If a semester lasts four months or six months, and you've been reading consistently from the very first week, what exactly is left for you to cram when exams arrive?
Nothing.
By the time examinations were approaching, most of them had already covered virtually everything.
While other students were beginning to panic and trying to learn entire courses from scratch, these students were mostly revising and practicing past questions.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second thing was even stranger.
The students who got distinctions did not seem to have a "time to read."
That completely confused me.
I had always assumed that serious students had strict reading schedules.
Maybe they read from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m.
Or from 8 p.m. to midnight.
Or woke up by 4 a.m. every day.
That was my picture of discipline.
But many of these students seemed to operate differently.
Instead of having a time to read, they had a time for everything else.
Reading was the default.
Reading was normal.
Reading was what they naturally drifted towards.
You would see them lying down with their phones.
Not scrolling social media.
Just casually reviewing slides.
Looking at a pathway.
Studying a diagram.
Reading a note.
Going through a lecture.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing intense.
Just reading.
It was part of their normal day.
Then they scheduled the other activities.
They had time for TikTok.
Time for football.
Time for movies.
Time for friends.
Time for resting.
Time for fun.
Their timetables were not built around work.
Their timetables were built around everything that was not work.
Work was already assumed.
And that realization hit me hard.
Because most of the suffering associated with studying isn't actually the studying itself.
Most of the struggle comes before the studying.
The real battle is convincing yourself to sit down.
Convincing yourself to open the book.
Convincing yourself to start.
That internal mental resistance is where most people lose.
Once you get past that stage, the difficulty drops dramatically.
Reading a book is not physically strenuous.
The difficult part is beginning.
And these distinction students had solved that problem.
Because studying had become normal to them.
It wasn't an event.
It wasn't something they prepared for.
It wasn't a special activity.
It was simply what they did.
So they could read for an hour and not even feel like they had studied.
They would get tired.
Drop the phone.
On a serious note, the rudeness towards patients in Nigerian hospitals has to stop.
It is so common that almost every Nigerian who has ever presented at a hospital has a story to tell.
Sometimes it comes from doctors.
Sometimes from nurses.
Sometimes from security personnel.
Sometimes from administrative staff.
But wherever it comes from, the experience is the same.
The patient leaves feeling disrespected.
And the irony is that healthcare is supposed to be built around caring for people.
I've looked through nursing curricula before. Patient observation, patient management, communication, patient careโthese are things that are formally taught.
That is why it is always shocking when you walk into a hospital and find the exact opposite.
Take a simple example.
Visiting time is 4 p.m.
A relative arrives at 3:55 p.m.
The rule says visiting has not started yet.
Fine.
Rules exist for a reason.
The problem is not enforcing the rule.
The problem is how it is enforced.
The relative standing there may be worried.
They may be scared.
They may have spent the entire day wondering whether their loved one is alive, improving, or deteriorating.
But many times, none of that is taken into consideration.
The response comes with unnecessary hostility.
No empathy.
No attempt to explain.
Just authority.
Just dismissal.
Just "go away."
That is the problem.
Not the rule.
The attitude.
And I think part of it comes from a culture that normalizes toxicity.
Consultants are toxic to residents.
Residents are toxic to junior doctors.
Senior students are toxic to junior students.
Nurses especially, then take that same frustration and redirect it towards patients because patients are the easiest people to exercise authority over.
It becomes a cycle.
A very unhealthy cycle.
Anyone pretending this problem doesn't exist is simply refusing to be honest.
In many Nigerian public hospitals, there is a reasonable chance that you will leave with a story about someone who spoke to you badly.
Sometimes it isn't even a healthcare worker.
Sometimes it is a security officer.
Sometimes it is someone controlling access to a ward.
Sometimes it is someone giving directions.
The point is that the problem is widespread.
There are situations where patients cannot be allowed into certain areas.
There are procedures where relatives cannot be present.
There are rules that must be obeyed.
Nobody is arguing against that.
But there is a way to communicate those things.
There is a way to speak to people without making them feel worthless.
There is a way to exercise authority without humiliating someone.
I do think this culture will gradually become harder to sustain.
The internet is changing things.
People are becoming more willing to document bad behavior.
People are becoming more willing to call attention to things that used to be hidden.
accountability matters.
If someone consistently treats patients badly, people should not keep protecting that behavior with silence.
Many workers behave differently the moment they realize their actions can be seen by the public.
What confuses me most is this:
Why take a job that revolves around serving people if you genuinely dislike dealing with people?
Why act as though you were forced into the profession?
Why make patients feel like burdens for seeking help?
Healthcare is already stressful enough.
The patient is sick.
The family is worried.
The bills are piling up.
The uncertainty is overwhelming.
The least healthcare workers can do is avoid becoming an additional source of suffering.
A hospital should not be a place where people fear being insulted for asking questions.
Yet for far too many Nigerians, that is exactly what it has become.
I believe many patients already have a preconception about doctors before they ever enter a hospital.
Especially in Nigeria, there is often this subtle belief that doctors are either irreligious, less spiritual, or somehow opposed to faith.
That is why telling a patient that you're a religious person or that you pray does not always change much. In some cases, it changes nothing at all.
Think about how many testimonies you've heard in churches.
"The doctors said it was impossible, but God did it."
"The doctors gave up, but God had the final say."
"No matter what the doctors said, God showed Himself."
I am not saying patients consciously hate doctors. I don't think that is the case.
What I am saying is that many people view doctors as a last resort.
When something goes wrong medically, the first response is often not the hospital.
It is prayer.
The child showing signs of developmental problems is first taken for deliverance.
The teenager struggling with mental illness is first taken for prayers.
The accident victim is first surrounded by spiritual explanations.
Many serious medical conditions spend valuable days, weeks, or even months moving through churches, prayer houses, and traditional remedies before eventually arriving at a hospital.
And by the time they arrive, the disease has often progressed.
The church becomes the first stop.
The hospital becomes the backup plan.
Then something else happens.
When doctors explain prognosis, many patients hear certainty where none exists.
A doctor may say there is a 50% chance of survival.
A doctor may say there is a high risk of complications.
A doctor may say the outlook is poor.
Those statements are probabilities.
They are not prophecies.
But when the outcome turns out favourably, many people remember the probability as though it was a prediction of doom.
Then the story becomes:
"The doctors said I would die."
"The doctors said it was impossible."
"But God proved them wrong."
Meanwhile, the doctor may have simply explained the risks honestly.
As someone who has an irreligious perspective on reality , I have never understood the need to create a conflict between faith and medicine.
Medicine and prayer are not enemies.
You administer treatment.
You perform the surgery.
You give the antibiotics.
You stabilize the patient.
And if you are religious, you can pray too.
Pray for healing.
Pray for strength.
Pray for comfort.
Pray for a good outcome.
But prayer is not a substitute for treatment.
The strange thing is that people are willing to trust prayer completely while distrusting the very interventions that have been tested repeatedly and shown to work.
If someone develops appendicitis, prayer is not what removes the appendix.
If someone is bleeding internally after an accident, prayer is not what stops the hemorrhage.
If someone develops severe sepsis, prayer is not what kills the bacteria.
Treatment does.
The reality is simple.
Faith may give hope.
Faith may give comfort.
Faith may give courage.
But medicine is what gives us antibiotics, surgeries, anesthesia, blood transfusions, vaccines, and all the things that have dramatically increased human survival.
Use both if you wish.
Pray.
But also allow the treatment to work.
And when things go well, give credit where credit is due.
Not only to your faith, but also to the people who spent years learning how to keep you alive.
I remember putting both my legs inside a bucket of water while reading so I wouldn't fall asleep.
Guess what happened?
I fell asleep.
The bucket tipped over.
Water flooded part of my room.
I woke up in confusion and immediately started cleaning the mess before going back to read.
The fear of failure can make students do some truly ridiculous things.
I did a lot of them.
Looking back now, I've realized that many of the things students obsess over when studying don't actually matter.
The first is all these tricks people use to stay awake at night.
Buckets of water.
Energy drinks.
Coffee.
Pacing around the room.
Pouring water on your face.
Walking circles around your hostel.
The truth is simple:
If your body needs sleep, you will sleep.
Sleep is one of the few things that cannot be negotiated with.
No amount of motivation can permanently defeat exhaustion.
Many students drink coffee believing it will stop them from sleeping.
It won't.
People still fall asleep after drinking coffee.
What coffee actually does is different.
If you wake up at 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. after already sleeping for a few hours and need your brain to become sharper, a cup of coffee can help increase alertness.
That is its real use.
It is a stimulant, not a replacement for sleep.
If you're sleepy, sleep.
Your body is telling you something.
The second thing that doesn't matter nearly as much as people think is food.
Students spend so much time asking:
"What should I eat before reading?"
"What food won't make me sleep?"
"What food improves concentration?"
The answer is simpler than most people expect.
Eat something that gives you enough energy to function.
That's it.
Some people read well after eating.
Some people prefer reading on a lighter stomach.
The important thing is having enough energy to focus on what you're studying.
Beyond that, food is not the magic secret students think it is.
The third thing that doesn't matter as much as people think is location.
Some students believe they can only study in a night class.
Others believe they need a reading room.
Others need a library.
Personally, I can read in my room.
I can read in a reading room.
I can read in a night class.
As long as the environment is reasonably quiet and allows me to focus, I can work.
The location is not what makes the studying effective.
The studying itself is.
The last thing people obsess over is position.
Some students believe they must sit upright on a chair.
Others think reading on a bed automatically means failure.
The reality is more complicated.
If you lie down and immediately sleep, then obviously that position isn't helping you.
But understanding doesn't magically disappear because you're on a sofa instead of a chair.
What matters is whether you are actually paying attention to what you're reading.
Students spend a lot of time optimizing things that contribute very little to learning.
The bucket.
The coffee.
The food.
The chair.
The room.
Most of these things are secondary.
The primary thing is whether you're consistently engaging with the material.
That's what actually moves the needle.
I used to watch a lot of interviews with distinction students, and I used to hate,really hate one particular answer.
They would be asked:
"How did you get a distinction in medical school?"
And they would respond:
"It was God."
"It was the grace of God."
"I read, but honestly, it was God."
Back then, I would immediately roll my eyes.
I would think to myself:
"Why are you lying?"
"What do you mean it was God?"
"Am I serving a different God?"
"Why don't you just tell us that you studied for eight hours every day?"
"Why don't you tell us that you read consistently and worked harder than everyone else?"
That was genuinely how I saw it.
I felt many of them were simply trying to be humble. Medical students are often careful about appearing proud, so I assumed they were downplaying the amount of work they had put in.
For a long time, that explanation made sense to me.
Then I got into medical school and began paying closer attention to people.
The more I observed students, the more I realized something that completely changed how I thought about academic success.
I began to realize that success in medical school has far less to do with hard work alone than most people would like to admit. A lot of it has to do with the nature of the person themselves.
Whether people like it or not, this is something that becomes difficult to ignore once you have spent enough time around students.
Have you ever noticed that there are people who seem to study all the time?
I remember a boy from my first year.
This boy read constantly.
He attended night classes.
He studied for hours.
He was always reading.
Yet he consistently struggled academically.
And when I say struggled, I mean he was failing courses despite the amount of effort he was putting in.
Over time, I noticed many similar students.
They attended every lecture.
They participated in everything.
They studied longer than most people.
Yet their results remained average or below average.
At the same time, there were other students who did not seem nearly as intense.
You rarely saw them stressing.
You rarely saw them making dramatic displays of studying.
Yet somehow they were always among the top students in the class.
That was when I started asking myself whether effort alone was really the explanation.
One uncomfortable truth that many people dislike discussing is that some people are naturally more intelligent than others.
Intelligence has far less to do with hard work than many people would like to believe.
For some people, understanding comes quickly.
What takes one student ten explanations to grasp may take another student only one.
What takes one person ten minutes to understand from a page of text may take another person a minute.
Some people process information faster.
Some people retain information better.
Some people simply have stronger memories.
This is not a popular thing to say because discussions about intelligence often drift into uncomfortable territory. People begin talking about discrimination, ability, genetics, and all sorts of controversial topics.
For that reason, many academic environments avoid discussing it altogether.
And perhaps that is understandable.
But avoiding a topic does not make it untrue.
Some people are naturally smarter than others.
That was the first thing I realized.
The second thing I realized was that some people are naturally more studious than others.
When I say studious, I do not mean disciplined.
I mean they genuinely enjoy studying.
Some people see reading as work.
Other people see reading as a hobby.
Some students complain about medical school every day.
Other students genuinely enjoy looking at biochemical pathways.
Some enjoy studying anatomy.
Some enjoy memorizing structures.
Some enjoy examining bone models and diagrams on their laptops.
They simply like doing it.
To them, studying is not punishment.
It is entertainment.
I used to watch a lot of interviews with distinction students, and I used to hate,really hate one particular answer.
They would be asked:
"How did you get a distinction in medical school?"
And they would respond:
"It was God."
"It was the grace of God."
"I read, but honestly, it was God."
Back then, I would immediately roll my eyes.
I would think to myself:
"Why are you lying?"
"What do you mean it was God?"
"Am I serving a different God?"
"Why don't you just tell us that you studied for eight hours every day?"
"Why don't you tell us that you read consistently and worked harder than everyone else?"
That was genuinely how I saw it.
I felt many of them were simply trying to be humble. Medical students are often careful about appearing proud, so I assumed they were downplaying the amount of work they had put in.
For a long time, that explanation made sense to me.
Then I got into medical school and began paying closer attention to people.
The more I observed students, the more I realized something that completely changed how I thought about academic success.
I began to realize that success in medical school has far less to do with hard work alone than most people would like to admit. A lot of it has to do with the nature of the person themselves.
Whether people like it or not, this is something that becomes difficult to ignore once you have spent enough time around students.
Have you ever noticed that there are people who seem to study all the time?
I remember a boy from my first year.
This boy read constantly.
He attended night classes.
He studied for hours.
He was always reading.
Yet he consistently struggled academically.
And when I say struggled, I mean he was failing courses despite the amount of effort he was putting in.
Over time, I noticed many similar students.
They attended every lecture.
They participated in everything.
They studied longer than most people.
Yet their results remained average or below average.
At the same time, there were other students who did not seem nearly as intense.
You rarely saw them stressing.
You rarely saw them making dramatic displays of studying.
Yet somehow they were always among the top students in the class.
That was when I started asking myself whether effort alone was really the explanation.
One uncomfortable truth that many people dislike discussing is that some people are naturally more intelligent than others.
Intelligence has far less to do with hard work than many people would like to believe.
For some people, understanding comes quickly.
What takes one student ten explanations to grasp may take another student only one.
What takes one person ten minutes to understand from a page of text may take another person a minute.
Some people process information faster.
Some people retain information better.
Some people simply have stronger memories.
This is not a popular thing to say because discussions about intelligence often drift into uncomfortable territory. People begin talking about discrimination, ability, genetics, and all sorts of controversial topics.
For that reason, many academic environments avoid discussing it altogether.
And perhaps that is understandable.
But avoiding a topic does not make it untrue.
Some people are naturally smarter than others.
That was the first thing I realized.
The second thing I realized was that some people are naturally more studious than others.
When I say studious, I do not mean disciplined.
I mean they genuinely enjoy studying.
Some people see reading as work.
Other people see reading as a hobby.
Some students complain about medical school every day.
Other students genuinely enjoy looking at biochemical pathways.
Some enjoy studying anatomy.
Some enjoy memorizing structures.
Some enjoy examining bone models and diagrams on their laptops.
They simply like doing it.
To them, studying is not punishment.
It is entertainment.
So I was doing a study on the experiences of students who had distinctions in medical school because I wanted to get distinctions myself.
And I began to find out something very interesting.
Most people think that students who get distinctions in medical school are people who read for 12 hours every day.
People who read for 13 hours.
16 hours.
People who do all-nighters every night.
People who read like superheroes.
That was what I thought too.
But what shocked me was something entirely different.
Most of the students I came across who consistently got distinctions read for about four hours every day.
Now, the shocking part was not that they read for four hours.
The shocking part was that they read every single day.
It was more of a consistency thing than an intensity thing.
So I began looking deeper into how these people actually studied.
And honestly, it was surprisingly simple.
Every class they attended, they made sure they understood that lecture that same day.
They reviewed the slides.
They revised the notes.
They tried to understand everything that had been taught before the day ended.
The next day, they would read it again.
Then move on to whatever new material had been taught.
They usually had a plan.
A structure.
A system.
And they simply followed it.
What stood out to me was that they started reading from the beginning of the semester.
Not two weeks before exams.
Not one month before exams.
From the beginning.
Think about that for a second.
If a semester lasts four months or six months, and you've been reading consistently from the very first week, what exactly is left for you to cram when exams arrive?
Nothing.
By the time examinations were approaching, most of them had already covered virtually everything.
While other students were beginning to panic and trying to learn entire courses from scratch, these students were mostly revising and practicing past questions.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second thing was even stranger.
The students who got distinctions did not seem to have a "time to read."
That completely confused me.
I had always assumed that serious students had strict reading schedules.
Maybe they read from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m.
Or from 8 p.m. to midnight.
Or woke up by 4 a.m. every day.
That was my picture of discipline.
But many of these students seemed to operate differently.
Instead of having a time to read, they had a time for everything else.
Reading was the default.
Reading was normal.
Reading was what they naturally drifted towards.
You would see them lying down with their phones.
Not scrolling social media.
Just casually reviewing slides.
Looking at a pathway.
Studying a diagram.
Reading a note.
Going through a lecture.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing intense.
Just reading.
It was part of their normal day.
Then they scheduled the other activities.
They had time for TikTok.
Time for football.
Time for movies.
Time for friends.
Time for resting.
Time for fun.
Their timetables were not built around work.
Their timetables were built around everything that was not work.
Work was already assumed.
And that realization hit me hard.
Because most of the suffering associated with studying isn't actually the studying itself.
Most of the struggle comes before the studying.
The real battle is convincing yourself to sit down.
Convincing yourself to open the book.
Convincing yourself to start.
That internal mental resistance is where most people lose.
Once you get past that stage, the difficulty drops dramatically.
Reading a book is not physically strenuous.
The difficult part is beginning.
And these distinction students had solved that problem.
Because studying had become normal to them.
It wasn't an event.
It wasn't something they prepared for.
It wasn't a special activity.
It was simply what they did.
So they could read for an hour and not even feel like they had studied.
They would get tired.
Drop the phone.
They spread through social media.
And every time they spread, they make the work of healthcare professionals harder.
This is one reason healthcare workers cannot afford to appear uncertain in front of patients.
People already arrive with countless competing voices in their heads.
They have heard advice from neighbors.
Advice from relatives.
Advice from social media influencers.
Advice from self-proclaimed experts.
Advice from people who have never studied the topic in their lives.
When patients arrive carrying all of these misconceptions, healthcare professionals must be able to explain clearly why those misconceptions are wrong.
Not with arrogance.
Not with insults.
But with confidence.
With clarity.
With evidence.
Patients need to understand not only that certain beliefs are incorrect, but also why they are incorrect.
They need to understand the harm that can result from following bad advice.
They need to understand the risks of delaying treatment.
They need to understand the consequences of trusting misinformation.
Many harmful ideas survive because nobody takes the time to challenge them properly.
And when misinformation goes unchallenged, it grows.
Personally, I believe people who knowingly spread dangerous medical misinformation should face consequences.
The damage caused by false health claims is often invisible.
The person posting the misinformation may never see the patient who delayed treatment because of it.
They may never see the infection that became worse.
They may never see the tooth that could have been saved.
They may never see the fractured limb that healed incorrectly.
They may never see the life that could have been improvedโor even saved.
But healthcare workers see those consequences every day.
They see the patients who arrive after trying every ineffective remedy imaginable.
They see conditions that could have been treated months earlier.
They see diseases that have progressed because someone trusted a rumor instead of evidence.
And that is why the battle against misinformation matters.
While healthcare professionals are spending years learning how to help people, there will always be others trying to convince those same people not to listen.
One group is pushing society forward.
The other is pulling it backward.
And every healthcare worker eventually realizes that treating disease is only part of the job.
Sometimes, the harder task is treating the ignorance that surrounds it.
Do you know that while you are spending years in medical school trying to become a doctor, learning about health, disease, medicines, diagnosis, patient care, pharmacy, nursing, medical laboratory science, and everything that goes into keeping human beings alive, there are people outside undoing every bit of that effort?
While you are educating yourself, some people are actively re-educating themselves into ignorance.
It is like trying to spin a wheel clockwise while somebody else is standing on the opposite side spinning it anticlockwise.
That is the reality of healthcare.
As healthcare professionals spend years studying evidence, science, and patient care, there are individuals online and offline spreading ideas that directly oppose everything that medicine has learned over centuries.
You have probably seen them.
They often begin with the same phrase:
"The doctors won't tell you this."
Sometimes these people appear convincing. Some of them speak confidently. Some of them even claim to have discovered secrets that healthcare professionals are supposedly hiding from the public.
And because health is one of the most important things in people's lives, many individuals listen.
I have seen people who genuinely believe dentists are scammers.
I once watched a video where a dentist informed a woman that she had six cavities.
The woman's response was immediate.
"I came here six months ago. How can I suddenly have six cavities?"
Instead of asking questions or seeking clarification, she concluded that dentists lie about cavities simply to create work for themselves and collect money from patients.
The implication was clear: the dentist was not trying to help her. The dentist was trying to scam her.
I have seen similar arguments directed at doctors.
A doctor recommends drinking adequate amounts of water daily, and suddenly someone appears online claiming that this advice is a lie.
According to them, if your body needs water, your body will tell you.
The doctors are lying.
The experts are wrong.
The science is fake.
The internet stranger knows better.
I have seen roadside advertisements selling powders and concoctions that supposedly cure dental problems.
The message is always the same:
"Don't remove your tooth."
"Don't go to the dentist."
"Use this instead."
As a result, people spend months or years suffering with teeth that should have been treated properly.
They endure pain.
They take ineffective remedies.
They try one local treatment after another.
All because they have convinced themselves that professional treatment is somehow the dangerous option.
Eventually, many of them end up in hospitals anyway, often with conditions that have become far worse than they were in the beginning.
At times, the consequences are even more serious.
I remember hearing about a boy who suffered a severe leg injury after an accident.
Instead of being taken directly to a hospital, some people around him warned against it.
They advised him not to allow doctors to manage the injury.
They warned him against injections.
They warned him against hospital treatment.
Instead, they encouraged him to visit a traditional bonesetter.
To them, that approach was more "natural."
This belief exists in many places.
Some people automatically assume that anything modern, regulated, or evidence-based is somehow less trustworthy than traditional practices.
They believe that doing things the old way is always safer.
They assume that because something is traditional, it must be correct.
Unfortunately, reality does not work that way.
Not every traditional practice is harmful.
But not every traditional practice is effective either.
And when health is involved, ineffective treatment can have devastating consequences.
The problem is not simply that these beliefs exist.
The problem is that they spread.
They spread through conversations.
They spread through families.
They spread through communities.