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Proper Vaccination Effective In Preventing Spread Of Diphtheria Don

Professor of Public Health and Epidemiology at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, Prof. Aisha Abubakar, tells AJIBADE OMAPE about the recent outbreak of diphtheria in various states across the country and how the government can sensitise the public to preventive measures for this infectious disease Can you explain what diphtheria is and why it poses a significant health threat, especially in Nigeria? Diphtheria is a vaccine-preventable disease and it is one of the diseases that routine immunisation protects against in Nigeria as part of the pentavalent vaccine. Diphtheria is a respiratory infection. Although it can affect other organs, it is caused by bacteria and is related to the development of a pseudomembrane in the throat, which leads to difficulty in breathing. The bacteria may also produce a toxin that can affect the heart and other organs. What factors contributed to the outbreak in states like Lagos, Kano, Yobe, Katsina, and the FCT? If you look at the statistics from the Nigerian Centre for Disease Control in most of these five states, Kano State is the lead state with the highest number of cases. Yobe, Kano, and a host of other northern states are responsible for over 90 per cent of the cases. I think the Lagos State case gained media attention because it occurred in a secondary school, which received a lot of media coverage. Essentially, most of the states that have reported diphtheria have not just been affected this year. This outbreak began about two years ago and is still showing no signs of abating. Diphtheria is a vaccine-preventable disease and, if you look at the statistics from the NCDC, you’ll find that most of the children or people affected have not completed their vaccination with the diphtheria vaccine. The diphtheria vaccine is part of the pentavalent vaccine, and the toxoid is given as part of this vaccine to children. So, most of those who got infected were not vaccinated. For vaccine-preventable diseases, some vaccines are available, but sometimes people do not use them due to fears of side effects, misconceptions about the safety of the vaccines, and a host of other reasons. How severe is this outbreak compared to previous ones? Well, the numbers are still being assessed from the initial outbreak. So, I don’t have the data for the current outbreak. They are counting the cases from the first ones. Essentially, you can’t say how serious it is, but I can tell you that last year, more cases were reported than this year. However, it is still early in the year, so maybe it’s too soon to compare this year’s cases with last year’s. What demographic groups are most at risk? Generally, children are more affected, as well as the elderly who are over 60 years old. However, those who are not vaccinated, regardless of age, can also be affected by the outbreak. What proactive measures should the Nigerian government and health agencies put in place to prevent future outbreaks of diphtheria? The main thing is to conduct risk communication so that people know which groups are susceptible and to mount a vaccination campaign. The vaccination campaign should target vulnerable groups, particularly children under five years old and the elderly. Children should be the primary focus for the vaccination campaign. How effective is vaccination in controlling the spread, and what percentage of the population needs to be immunised for herd immunity? I don’t have the exact details, but usually, a particular percentage of the population needs to be immunised to prevent an outbreak, which is called herd immunity. Around 75-80% of the population needs to be vaccinated for herd immunity. As I mentioned earlier, diphtheria is a vaccine-preventable disease. The vaccine must have passed through the entire chain and not been compromised in any way. It is very effective in preventing infection, which is why it is included in routine immunisation in Nigeria. Given Nigeria’s challenges with vaccine hesitancy, misinformation, and access to healthcare, how can vaccination coverage be improved? To improve vaccine coverage, you must create demand for the vaccine. There must be a lot of risk communication and campaigning to ensure people understand the relationship between vaccination and being free of disease. If you mount an effective campaign, people will be more willing to get their children vaccinated. Despite misconceptions, there should be a sensitisation programme to inform people that these vaccines are life-saving and can protect their children from infection. What immediate steps should affected states take to curb the spread of diphtheria? Affected states should mount massive immunisation campaigns and vaccination drives. Additionally, there should be training for healthcare workers, starting from those at health posts, community health extension workers, and community health officers at primary healthcare facilities, to doctors and nurses in secondary and tertiary facilities. This training should focus on recognising cases early and providing appropriate treatment. This is crucial because, with diphtheria, early recognition and treatment with antibiotics, as well as administering the toxoid, can prevent severe outcomes in affected individuals. Are our hospitals and healthcare facilities adequately equipped to handle outbreaks of infectious diseases like this? It depends on the infectious disease in question. For diphtheria, one of the complications is that it can cause difficulty in breathing, and if that occurs, you may need respirators and ventilators. However, even in some of our tertiary institutions, there are very few ventilators available. So, early detection and administering the toxoid are the best bet before a person experiences respiratory difficulty. Are there gaps in our healthcare facilities when it comes to being adequately equipped, and what gaps need to be addressed to help handle outbreaks of infectious diseases like this? For many infectious diseases, particularly those that can be transmitted from one person to another, it is essential to have isolation facilities. This is not only for diphtheria but also for diseases like measles and Lassa fever. There is a need for well-equipped isolation centres in our healthcare facilities that can be used once there is an outbreak. These centres help prevent the risk of infection for other patients. How important is early detection, and what symptoms should the public look out for to seek medical attention promptly? Early detection is crucial in preventing the spread of diphtheria. Initially, diphtheria can present with symptoms similar to other respiratory infections, such as fever, cough, and swelling of the lymph nodes. It is the characteristic membrane that develops in the throat that clinches the diagnosis, even before samples are taken for testing. It is important to have a high index of suspicion, particularly for those who have had contact with individuals diagnosed with diphtheria. That’s the key to early detection. What are the best treatment options for diphtheria, and how accessible are they in Nigeria? Diphtheria is caused by bacteria, and antibiotics are very useful in treating the infection. Erythromycin and penicillin are commonly used for treatment, and penicillin is given to those who have been in contact with infected individuals. The choice of antibiotics depends on the susceptibility of the bacteria to specific drugs. Do we have enough antibiotics and antitoxins available to treat patients effectively, or do we face a problem of shortages? We have antibiotics available, but there can sometimes be issues with the efficacy of some of them, as many substandard drugs may be circulating in the market. The toxoid is not as readily available as the antibiotics, but it is still available in the country. The key is to have a high index of suspicion, use the right antibiotics, and administer the toxoid to those infected before the disease progresses to severe outcomes. Does diphtheria pose a death risk for people who get infected? It depends on the severity of the infection. Like other vaccine-preventable diseases, diphtheria can present with non-specific symptoms similar to other respiratory diseases. Severe complications, such as difficulty in breathing and damage to the heart and other organs, can lead to fatalities. Currently, in Nigeria, has there been any known recorded case of death or deaths related to diphtheria? Yes, there have been several cases of death across the country. For example, in the recent Lagos outbreak at King’s College, one of the students developed complications and passed away. Other parts of the country have also seen fatalities, although not as many as those from diseases like malaria and Lassa fever. How can other schools and organisations with a large population prevent the same incidents that occurred at King’s College? I think the answer is vaccination! Vaccination! Vaccination! As I mentioned earlier, diphtheria is a vaccine-preventable disease. If children are immunised and mount an immune response, they will be protected against infection. Early detection and treatment are also key because for those who receive antibiotics and the toxoid, complications can be prevented. What long-term policies should the Federal Government adopt to strengthen epidemic preparedness and response to infectious diseases? I think having the NCDC is key. One of the things that can be done to strengthen preparedness for epidemics is to have regional centres that support the NCDC in tackling diphtheria and other diseases. As a researcher in public health and infectious diseases, what recommendations do you have for integrating scientific research into Nigeria’s disease control strategies? The Nigerian Centre for Disease Control runs several programmes, such as the Nigerian Field Epidemiology and Laboratory Training Programme, which attempts to marry research with fieldwork. People are trained 25% in the classroom and 75% in the field. This can help improve surveillance, epidemic preparedness, and response. How can public health agencies and the media collaborate to raise awareness and educate Nigerians about diphtheria prevention and treatment? Interviews like this are important for raising awareness. Journalists and health professionals must collaborate, starting with basic media channels like radio programmes, television shows, and newspaper articles. In communities where it may be difficult to reach people, radio, especially in local dialects, can be an effective tool for raising awareness. What role do community leaders, religious institutions, and schools play in ensuring better vaccine uptake and public compliance with health guidelines? Community leaders are crucial, particularly in traditional settings. Before launching any programme, it is essential to gain their support. Religious institutions also play a vital role, as they can reach large audiences and encourage vaccination. Health professionals can work with religious institutions to spread the message after services. How does Nigeria’s response to diphtheria compare to global best practices in managing infectious disease outbreaks, and what lessons can we learn from other countries? Vaccine-preventable diseases can occur in both developing and developed countries. For example, the recent measles outbreak in the United States shows that complacency with vaccination can lead to outbreaks. The key takeaway is that vaccination is critical to preventing infections, and Nigeria can learn from these international experiences.

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We Dated For Eight Years, But Married As Virgins Couple Celebrating 54 Years Marriage

Dr Moses Omole and his wife, Pastor Esther, speak to TEMITOPE ADETUNJI about the beauty of love, the strength of commitment, and the faith that have kept their marriage thriving for over five decades How do you feel having spent over five decades with your wife? I feel fulfilled. Everything has worked out well. Being married to my wife for over 50 years has been a blessing, and we thank God for everything. We had the resources to take care of ourselves, take care of our children, and manage other needs. I am grateful to God for everything, in all aspects of life. Where are you from? I am from the Ilaje area of Ilesa, in Osun State, while my wife is from Ekiti State. My father was a farmer and had four wives. My mother was the second wife. We all lived together in the same house: father, wives, and children. We were raised as one big family. When we reached school age, we were separated and sent to different schools. My father trained me with all he had, sending me to school. When I needed further education, God provided support, and I continued my studies, eventually reaching the university level. I am the first son, and I took on the responsibility of supporting my siblings after my father passed away. Before his death, he had done his best to support us. Afterwards, I started earning a small income, which allowed me to support my siblings. I thank God that they are all well-established now and can support themselves without depending on me. How old was your father when he passed? He was about 65 years old. Can you share a bit about your career? I came from a very poor background but later pursued education, completing secondary school and university. I attended Joseph Ayo Babalola University in Osun State and later pursued postgraduate studies abroad. After leaving the university, I worked with the Ministry of Commerce and Industry and the Cocoa Research Institute of Nigeria in Ibadan, where I conducted research. Eventually, I moved to a private agricultural establishment. Later, I became a lecturer at Joseph Ayo Babalola University, where I taught for many years before retiring. How many years did you spend teaching at the university? I spent about 18 years teaching an agricultural course. How did you meet your wife? We grew up together. I first knew her when she was in primary school. We were innocent children at the time, not knowing we would end up together. She was my younger sister’s friend, and that was how I got to know her. What attracted you to her, and how did you ask her to marry you? She and my younger sister were friends, which brought us closer. Over time, we decided to marry each other. I naturally fell in love with her. We shared mutual trust and understanding, which made our relationship work smoothly. There was never any regret. What year did you get married? We got married in 1971. The first few years of marriage often involve adjustments. What changes did you have to adapt to? Honestly, I didn’t face any major challenge. We were both young when we started, and I was 29 years old. We understood each other well, adjusted easily, and there were no regrets. How old are you now? I am 83 years old. What life lessons have you learnt from childhood until now? I have learnt many lessons, but I am especially thankful for the kindness of God, which I always recognise. I also appreciate how some people simply like me without even knowing me. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it has been manageable. People have been benevolent towards me, and I thank God for everything. What were your roles in the home? I was focused on research, which often occupied my time. My wife, being a natural teacher, was also busy with her responsibilities. We shared experiences and responsibilities at home, and we’ve never had any issues. She has always been very cooperative, and although we may not have been as wealthy as others, we’ve never struggled. How old is your wife? She is 80 years old. What has kept your marriage strong for over five decades, considering that many marriages struggle in the early years? I believe it’s the mercy of God and our understanding of each other. We’ve never had serious arguments or disagreements. We’ve always trusted and supported each other. How did you feel when you had your first child? As a newly married man, it was a fantastic experience. My first child is a boy, and we were overjoyed. We love him dearly, as well as our other children. How many children do you have? We have five children. As a grandfather, how do you feel seeing your grandchildren? My grandchildren are amazing, likeable children. Although they don’t live with me, I feel close to them, especially since we can talk regularly over the phone or see each other on video calls via WhatsApp. What do you consider your greatest achievement? My greatest achievement is that everything has gone well with me. I haven’t faced any major challenge or pressure in my marriage, and I’m grateful for that. I owe much of this to my wife, who has made me comfortable and supported me throughout our life together. I have no regrets, not even for a single moment. How do you think marriages today compare to when you got married? In today’s world, many couples focus on their careers and personal ambitions, which can sometimes detract attention from their marriage. In our case, our home and happiness were always our priorities, and we focused on our children. Do you think marriages today are more difficult than when you got married? I believe the focus has shifted towards chasing wealth and status. Many couples don’t prioritise their marriage, which I think is key to long-lasting happiness. In our case, our home and the well-being of our children came first. You have been blessed with children and grandchildren. What values do you instil in your family that have helped shape them today? I believe the value of hard work is essential, and I thank God that they have all achieved their goals. They are well-educated in their respective disciplines. They live independently and are self-made, fulfilling their responsibilities effectively. They are progressing both academically and in their careers. I have no problems at all. None of them has ever had any issue in my house. With the economic situation, what advice would you give newlyweds regarding having children? I would advise them to have only as many children as they can take care of—children they can manage well. This way, their resources will be enough for both the children and themselves. They should focus on their careers and perform their work diligently. What has been the most rewarding aspect of parenting for you? The most rewarding aspect is that children make their parents happy. All our children have gone through education, and they all have good jobs now. Some are in the professional field, including education, and they continue to teach and enjoy their careers. Since they started getting married, we have not had any problems to solve for them. God has been wonderful, and we give Him all the glory. What does love mean to you now compared to when you first got married? There is no difference. For 54 years, how have you kept the spark alive in your marriage? To me, it has always been the same since we started. Nothing has changed. We don’t quarrel or argue, and we continue to live happily, as God has provided for us. In today’s world, many young people struggle with relationships and commitments. What advice would you give to young couples today? Your relationship is first and foremost with your partner, whether your husband or wife. You should remain loyal and faithful to that relationship. I have never had any reason to quarrel or experience disagreement that led to separation—not even for a day. In fact, I always miss my wife whenever she’s out, and we are so connected that I always thank God for it. What is the secret to a lasting and fulfilling marriage? Trust your wife, and your wife should trust you. Also, don’t pursue things you cannot manage. Don’t chase after what you cannot easily achieve. Be satisfied with what you have, which is a gift from God. When you do this, you’ll have no problems. I’ve never had a quarrel. What are your hopes and prayers for the years ahead in your marriage? My prayers are for continued peace and happiness. How would you describe your marriage of 54 years? I would say all glory to God. It has been a time without regrets. We need to thank God for every day, every minute, every second; it has been God. Looking back at these 54 years—five whole decades—it’s clear that we cannot attribute our journey to our own wisdom or efforts. It can only be God. We see marriages collapsing all around us, but we can’t take credit for our own success. It has been God. Both of you sound so healthy and sharp, even at this age. What’s the secret? It’s just God. That’s all I can say. I gave my life to Jesus Christ at 19. One of the expatriates at St Margaret’s School, Ilesa, introduced me to the Scripture Union early in life. At a camp, I gave my life to Christ, and since then, God has led me. Someone recently looked at me and said, ‘Wow, you’re 80?!’ I told him, ‘It’s not me. It’s not about what I eat.’ Yes, we eat simple food—beans, vegetables—but it is not about that. It’s about who I am in Christ. My faith has been my strength. It’s not my doing; it’s just God. What would you say is your greatest achievement? In education, I thank God for my father. Like my husband, I came from a humble background. We met in primary school—his younger sister was my friend. At that time, there was nothing romantic between us. We were so young. It wasn’t until much later that our relationship evolved. When we started courting, he was abroad for seven years. After I left school, I went to the University of Ibadan and later into teaching. When he returned and pursued his second degree at the University of Newcastle, I travelled with our first son to join him. I completed my postgraduate diploma in education before we returned to Nigeria. Career-wise, I rose to the peak of my profession as the principal of St Margaret’s, the oldest school in Osun State and my alma mater. My foundation, built by God, shaped every other aspect of my life, and that’s why I am where I am today. I went into nursing for a few months before transitioning into teaching. I had to leave nursing because I couldn’t bear seeing people suffer, cry, or go through pain. It just wasn’t in my nature. So, I left. I went back to teaching, and I loved it. Ever since then, I’ve been in teaching. What attracted you to him and made you feel he was the one? As I said, we knew each other from childhood, not as future spouses, but because his sister was my friend. Later, when he attended Ilesa Grammar School and I was at St Margaret’s, we would greet each other like siblings. Much later, circumstances brought us together, and we started courting. By then, I knew his background, his home, and his values. He was humble, pleasant, gentle, and unassuming. He came from a decent family, and I had visited their home in Ere, where they lived. At first, my Ekiti parents were hesitant. I attended St Martin’s Primary School in Ijebu-Ijesa before moving to St Margaret’s. Afterwards, I went to the University of Ibadan, completed my studies, and returned to teach at St Margaret’s. When he proposed, my parents were reluctant because they wanted me to marry someone from Ekiti, not Ilesa. Since I was born in Ilesa, they wanted to maintain our Ekiti identity. But God had other plans. Eventually, my father not only accepted my husband but also became close friends with him. Being a pastor and a wife, how do you create that balance? We are both people of faith, so it wasn’t really difficult. I am a fully ordained pastor in the Redeemed Christian Church of God. My husband, though not a pastor, is the Baba Ijo in his church. He comes from an African Church background and currently serves as the Baba Ijo in his village church. So yes, he is a man of faith. How has your faith played a role in your marriage? Tremendously! Without our faith, I don’t know where we would be. As I said, marriage is not always a bed of roses. There were tough times, but with God, nothing is impossible. Through prayer and faith, we overcame challenges. What should young women look out for before getting married? These days, I’m amazed at how people approach marriage. In our time, parents were deeply involved. Today, that’s no longer the case, and it’s one of the major problems we see. If they are people of faith, then God must be their first consultant. But many leave Him out, date carelessly, and start where they should end. Physical intimacy before marriage diminishes the excitement and purpose of the wedding night. As a matter of fact, my husband and I married as virgins. How long did you date before getting married? We dated for about eight or nine years. He was in Russia for seven years for his first degree while I was at the University of Ibadan. After he returned, we courted for about a year and a half before finally deciding to marry. How did you keep the relationship strong? We embraced effective communication. Despite the fact that there were no phones in those days, my husband is a great writer. He wrote to me consistently, and that kept the love alive.

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I Never Believed Id Live Up To 97 Nonagenarian

Chief Mrs Funke Arthur-Worrey, a distinguished matriarch, community leader and philanthropist, is a former president and Head of the Board of Trustees of the International Women’s Society and widow of the late legal luminary, Steady Arthur-Worrey. In this feature to celebrate her as she turns 98, she tells GODFREY GEORGE about her early life in Nigeria and England, her career as a chartered secretary and fashion executive in London and why she did not vote for President Bola Tinubu despite campaigning for him It was as though the sun had been granted a final, glorious day to shine before retreating behind the clouds. The heat hung heavily over Lagos, thick and deliberate, as this reporter arrived at the Ikoyi residence of Chief Funke Arthur-Worrey that Sunday afternoon. A domestic worker greeted this reporter at the gate and ushered him inside, politely requesting a few minutes of patience. The sitting room was a quiet marvel: walls adorned with oil paintings, bold brushstrokes, carvings, and numerous large canvases, alongside so many sofas that one would wonder whether Mama had ever had the chance to sit on all of them. Each piece of art was interspersed with family portraits, which brought the room to life. The air was filled with a sense of history, tastefully preserved. “These artworks,” the domestic worker explained, “tell stories of time and place.” “Each piece you see here means something,” he continued. “They were collected from different places for different reasons. Mama will give you all the details when she comes.” He then settled me into a seat. “Is that not President Bola Tinubu there?” I asked, pointing to a picture on the wall. Before the tour guide could respond, Mama emerged from her room. Draped in an elegant flowing gown, her presence was unmistakable: regal yet disarmingly warm. Her face was gently made up, and her laughter, loud and vibrant, echoed through the room like music. “It is Tinubu o. It is Tinubu. He used to come here, in my living room. I campaigned for him, but I did not vote for him,” she said. “Why, though?” I asked. “I did not like the idea of a Muslim-Muslim ticket, so even though I campaigned for him, I voted for another candidate because of that singular reason. But now that he is President, I support him because God commands me to do so,” she said, settling into a sofa. “Come and sit next to me, my dear,” she told me, clearing a throw pillow to make space on the large sofa. We exchanged a few soft hugs. “Nice perfume,” she remarked. “I love your hair, too,” she added, gesturing to my fully styled hair. Blushing slightly, I flustered as I found my notepad. At 98, Mama still had her charm. She moved with a grace that belied her years. Fanta and popcorn arrived first—her idea of a welcoming spread. “Ah! You cannot come here and not eat anything. Abi, it’s Coke you want? Bring Coke, Faith. Chilled one. From the freezer, she called out to her housekeeper. It wasn’t long before she disappeared briefly, returning with a bowl of chestnuts and more popcorn. “You must eat,” she said. “Eat so that you’ll have the energy to ask your questions. You cannot come to Mama’s home and not eat. Ah! It’s a taboo!” The hospitality in her voice was unmistakable. Throughout the encounter, she asked if her guest was comfortable, if the light was too bright, if the seat was soft enough, if the ceiling fan should be turned off, or if the standing fan should be brought closer. “Na so Mama dey do o,” said Faith. “She is always cheerful, always generous. That is why I love working for her.” A heritage rooted in royalty Born into the esteemed Ogunmade Onile Gbale Chieftaincy House of Isale Eko, Arthur-Worrey’s lineage is steeped in Lagosian nobility. Her brother, the late Chief H.O. Davies, was a renowned legal luminary and nationalist, further cementing the family’s legacy in Nigeria’s history. Throughout her life, Arthur-Worrey has been a beacon of leadership and philanthropy. She served as the President of the International Women’s Society and led its Board of Trustees, championing women’s rights and empowerment. Her commitment to community service is further exemplified by her roles in the Nigerian Federation of Business and Professional Women and the Ikeja Lioness Club. Married to the late Steady (formerly Stephen) Arthur-Worrey, a distinguished Queen’s Counsel, their union was a partnership of intellect and service. Their son, Fola Arthur-Worrey, continued this legacy, serving as Lagos State’s Solicitor General and Commissioner for Lands. Two years to 100 “So I was going to ask you—at 98, it’s just two years to 100,” asked this reporter. “I know. It’s unbelievable,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “You see, when I turned 80, I thanked God because I never expected it. At 90 and then 95, I still said, ‘Me? A sinner like me?’ So now, at 98, how does it feel? I feel good. “I feel grateful. I now truly know there is a God Almighty. We have one God; we don’t worship two. He says, ‘I am a jealous God.’ If you believe and trust Him, He is there for you. And he has looked after me.” She speaks of God with the serenity of someone whose life has been full, yet humble. “Do you still go out?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied cheerfully. “I go out regularly. I have my driver who drives me anywhere I want to go. Sometimes, I take a walk around the neighbourhood. I also eat well. I go for walks. I even go to the market sometimes. I go and buy akara in the Lekki area. There is a street after Ajah—what’s the name now? The end of Ajah. There’s a market there. “We also used to go to Epe. We would stay there, look at the animals, and eat. One woman used to fry akara there for years. She’s not alive anymore. We’d eat her akara till dawn and then drive back. “I am always very happy. I’ve enjoyed my life. God has been good to me. I thank Him, though I can never thank Him enough. Jesus is the captain of the ship, and He’ll take us to the end.” There was no grandiosity in her stories, only the quiet joy of someone who had tasted life. “Looking back now, especially as a young schoolgirl, what are you most grateful for?” Saturday PUNCH asked. “Hmm… I’m grateful I was born into a loving family. I knew my great-grandfather on my mother’s side and interacted with him. My father was someone who loved everybody. As a little girl of about five or six, I would cling to him and go everywhere, to my grandparents and aunties. We were very close. Lagos was not as populated as it is now, but we were a family. We were close.”  “I will say I’ve been lucky. From my mother’s side in Abeokuta to my father’s in Esaleko, we were known to one another. There was love. Aunties who weren’t blood relatives were still aunties. Same for uncles. Lagos was very close-knit in the 60s and 70s.” She recalled names and streets like old friends. Her memory, still sharp, wove together the Lagos of yesteryear, a place threaded with familiarity and community. “What do you remember about your mother?” this reporter asked. “My mother was from Abeokuta. She was a trader. She traded in everything. The last thing I remember, she used to go to Old Apapa to buy condemned army uniforms from the Second World War. “These uniforms were imported by agents, not ours, but British ones. They were strong and of good quality. She and her friends had contacts and were allowed into the shipyards to collect them. That kind of thing cannot happen now with the Boko Haram era. But back then, people wore those British uniforms. She would buy strong shoes too, especially from Kaduna and Igbo land, and then resell them. “Before that, she sold clothes and had help from cousins, aunties, nephews, and maids. My childhood was beautiful.” She smiled then, fondness in every line on her face. Lessons from my mother “My mother was a disciplinarian. You could not misbehave. If someone from school or the neighbourhood reported you, you were in trouble. Not just me, all my siblings. If you said you were going out, you had to say exactly where. If you said you were going to the Williams’s house for a birthday and told her you’d return by six o’clock, you better be home by six. “Back then, we didn’t separate religion. Even though people were Muslim or Christian, we celebrated together. During Ileya, everyone joined. During Christmas, everyone celebrated. It was beautiful. “She wasn’t overly strict, but we respected her. She used to joke with us, asking, ‘Do you want akara?’ She spoiled us in her way, but respect and discipline were key. We respected elders. If they correct you, you must apologise. Saturdays were for chores. Either you swept, cleaned, or went to the market. They gave you two shillings to go to Balogun and buy foodstuffs. We were trained properly. “We were close to our cousins and neighbours. It was love all through. I’m grateful I was born into that,” Mama said. The sad thing, she continued, was that her mother died early. “She died young, at 62,” she said, with sadness in her tone. “My father died in 1940. He was over 50. They both died young. But I had my maternal grandparents for much longer. I was lucky in that regard.” Moving abroad and missing home “Eventually, when you go to England, it’s different,” she said. “You don’t have that closeness. I love my family dearly. All of them would be here if they could. But in some ways, I’m a private person.” Then, leaning back, she added with a playful smile, “You’re coming on the 23rd, right? You’ll see me. You’ll meet some of my family members. You cannot miss this big celebration. I have tagged it, “My Year of Thanksgiving” because I never expected to see 98.” Her pride in her family was palpable, even as she acknowledged the rhythms of modern life. “I have family all around. My nieces are still alive, though they’re often busy. They communicate through social media. I am not good with social media, but I try.” Near-death experience “God has been good to me, health-wise. As you can see,” she says with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes. For someone approaching her centenary, she exudes astonishing lucidity and warmth. But even the seemingly invincible have moments of reckoning. “I dare not tell Fola I have a headache,” she laughs, referring to her son. “All the doctors would come rushing.” Then, in a tone softened by recollection, she shares a moment of personal vulnerability, one that caught her entirely off guard. “Last time, I had a little issue, I fell,” she admits. “I’m so sorry. It never happened to me before.” It was on a Sunday, during communion at church. Everything had been perfectly ordinary, even joyful, as she had danced earlier in the service. But something shifted, subtly, inexplicably. She felt a wave of unease and, breaking from custom, sat back while the women processed to the altar. “That day was the anniversary of the Hospital Society. I had been invited as a special guest,” she explains. “After service, we were meant to go to the church extension to celebrate. But I didn’t stand up. Very unlike me.” What followed was a blur of concern and commotion. She collapsed, surrounded by doctors and nurses from the congregation, all attending to her. Her instincts pulled her homeward. “I thought, ‘This is it. This might be the end.” But it was obvious her body had other plans. “I told them I wanted to go home so I could be with my family,” she recalls, her voice tinged with resolve. But they insisted. She was taken to the church clinic, tested, and examined. It was not her first experience with medical scrutiny. Earlier on in the year, she said she’d spent three months in England, during which her children ferried her to one physician after another—NHS-trained and trusted friends all taking their turn. “They said I was fine. My heart was fine for my age.” Still, at the church clinic, concern mounted. Overheard whispers triggered a phone call: “Daddy, Daddy, Mummy is ill.” Her loyal driver informed her son, who gave immediate instructions: “Take her to Reddington. I’ll meet you there.” She recalls the journey, even in her weakened state. “I was only half-conscious. But I remember entering through the church gate, thinking they would open it for us. Then I saw the driver reversing. I said, ‘Where are you going?’” Her voice turns almost amused at the memory of herself: fragile, yet still keenly aware. “He didn’t answer. Just drove straight to Reddington.” At the hospital, she stayed for two nights. Doctors poked, prodded, and ran tests. The diagnosis was almost laughably simple: dehydration. “They said, ‘Mummy, do you know what? You need water. You’re dehydrated.’ They gave me fluids. And I came back to myself.” It was not the first time she had surprised those around her with a return to strength. “They gave me medication—iron, vitamins… everything was chemical,” she says, almost with an air of resignation. “But anyway, I’m all right now. It’s one of those things I must thank God for.” And she does, often and openly. “Between God and man… when it happened, I said, ‘Take me home.’ Because I thought, if this is the time, then it’s the time. I truly thought it was.” Yet, the weeks passed. One, then another. And she recovered. Now, nearly two months later, she speaks of it with the clarity of one who understands how fleeting time can be. “They discharged me. They told me, ‘Mummy, drink a lot of water. And eat plenty of fruits.’ I told them, ‘Food is not the problem.’” She lets out a soft laugh, the humour not lost. She said her children rallied around her in the aftermath. “All the children bring all sorts of things. When I told them the doctor said I should eat more, they didn’t waste time. They brought me everything. So I thank God for that.” Her gratitude for her family is deep and constant. It brims when she speaks of them. “Let’s say it’s Christmas or Mother’s Day, I will just start seeing all these messages from my children. All kinds of beautiful messages.” Distance is no barrier. “The ones in England, even when it’s my birthday and they can’t come, they will send things. Gifts, cards, everything.” Secrets to a long, fruitful life “Eat right. Shun crime and love all your neighbours. Don’t be a tool in the hands of bad people or be used as a thug. Stay fit, eat lots of fruit and drink water. Exercise, too. But, most importantly, pray, because God is the owner of life,” she added with s smile.

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News_Naija

When Fathers Vanish: Silent Scars Of Abandoned Children

Across Nigeria, countless families bear the deep emotional, financial, and psychological scars left behind by fathers who walked away. In homes where love once lingered, silence and unanswered questions now reside. In this report, GODFREY GEORGE unearths the raw truths of abandonment — its roots, psychological toll, and the cruel, weighty expectation of forgiveness that society places on those affected, especially on the weary shoulders of children struggling to piece their lives back together Their relationship has been a journey through stormy seas. Since meeting Mr Soprinye in 1996, peace has eluded Clara. They both attended the same skills acquisition college in Port Harcourt, Rivers State. Both were in the Catering Department: Clara specialised in pastries, while Soprinye focused on events management and large-scale cooking. Weeks grew into months, and their friendship began after a casual conversation during a joint class. A few weeks later, Soprinye sent Clara a love letter. Although flattered, Clara said she had no intention of replying, as Soprinye was not her ‘kind of man’. But just days after, something unexpected happened. Soprinye fainted during a practical class. Clara heard about the incident and ran barefoot across campus to  a nearby clinic where he’d been taken. He was on bed rest, with a drip in his arm. “I ran barefoot to the clinic to be with him. When he opened his eyes, it was me he saw. At that point, I had not even agreed to his proposal, but he knew I liked him. That was how we started. If anyone had told me this man would become who he is today, I wouldn’t have believed it,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. The pair quickly became inseparable on campus. When Soprinye graduated and Clara still had a few months left, she said she felt genuinely sad. But fate took a different turn. Clara was to return to her hometown after school, but her father, an oil servicing firm employee, was transferred to Port Harcourt. She helped him settle in and began living with him. Every evening, Soprinye would visit. Clara said she often snuck out of her father’s house just to see him, and it was in those clandestine meetings that their bond grew stronger. Eventually, Soprinye visited her family formally, bringing a few bottles of wine. Clara left with him that same day. That very night, everything changed. They had a minor disagreement, and Soprinye slapped her. “I didn’t think too much of it. I just assumed I was at fault. He was correcting me about how I served his food. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. But then, it happened again two days later. This time, he shoved me into a corner in the house and stormed out. When he came back that night, he was drunk. I had to change his clothes and bathe him. “By morning, he was hungry. I still cooked for him and even apologised for the night before,” she recalled. Things grew worse when Clara became pregnant with their first child, a daughter named Faith. The abuse intensified. “He would beat, kick and push me. He would even lock me in the room for an entire day without food or water until he returned from work. Then I’d still have to cook and serve him first before I could eat. I did all of this while pregnant. Even in my ninth month, I was still waking early to make his meals,” she said. A few days before she delivered, Clara said Soprinye beat her so severely that she began to bleed. She was rushed to the community health centre. Her offence? She had asked him to help set up a small pastry shop in front of the house so she could support the family after childbirth. “I ran to my people, but I couldn’t tell my father. He was already ill and had just resigned from his job. We were all scared that either I or the baby could die. I gave birth four days after that beating, and for a few weeks, everything seemed normal. Then the beatings started again,” she said. Travelling without notice Clara said another pattern soon emerged. Soprinye would disappear from home without a word. “He would just travel. It was through friends that I heard he had left town. There’d be no food in the house. We’d practically be begging, but he didn’t care. One day, I went with our daughter, who was four at the time, to his uncle’s house. The man was livid and told me to stay with him until Soprinye returned. “Can you believe that when he eventually came to pick us up, he beat me? The moment we got home, he slapped and warned me never to pull that stunt again. I was broken. I didn’t know what to do,” she said quietly. “Before I knew it, I was pregnant again.” Two months into that pregnancy, 51-year-old Clara said Soprinye left the house once more—this time, for good. He didn’t return until after she’d delivered. “I don’t even know how he heard about it, but he came back after I’d had our son, Tonye. He didn’t contribute anything. The only thing I remember is that he left N470 on the table. Was that what he expected me to use to look after myself and the baby?” she asked, visibly upset. Soon, Clara began to hear rumours that Soprinye had taken another woman—and that she, too, was pregnant. “In fact, what I heard was that they were expecting another child. Whenever I tried to confront him, he would beat me till I could no longer speak. That was the level of cruelty I lived with,” she recounted sadly. The Tuesday he left On a Tuesday in 2010, Clara said Soprinye left and never looked back. At first, they assumed he had travelled as he usually did, but this time, it was taking too long. His family began to grow anxious and tried to reach him. Clara said it took eight months before anyone could track him down. Some said he was in Ebonyi. Others claimed he had relocated to Cross River to live with a new family. “I was more concerned about the kids. We had another boy by then. So there were three children now, and they were all in school and needed money. I was doing a small business in front of the house, but it could only take care of our feeding. Everything else was left undone. “We sent messages through family, but this man did not respond. One time, he sent us N5,000. Another time, it was N2,000. The next time I saw him was in 2012, when he came back to ask for my forgiveness. I forgave him. But in 2015, he left again. This time, for four whole years.” “He was still in Port Harcourt because people said they usually see him around. His things were still at home, but he simply stopped coming. He would send us N1,000 for the entire month, those were even the lucky months. “He came back again briefly and asked me to forgive him in 2019. By then, the children had grown up. The first one, Faith, was around 22. She had graduated from school where she studied Accounting, but was still job-hunting. “She told me not to forgive him—that she sensed he only returned because his money had finished. And do you know that this man left again? He said he was going to a pastoral school, that God had called him. That was how he vanished for another year. By then, I had become used to it, so I didn’t bother looking for him. “I told his people, and they said I should leave him. His daughter took the matter to the police, but I told her to withdraw the case. I don’t want that kind of drama. It was only when his mother died that he came back and joined his people to bury her. My own father died during one of his absences, and he didn’t attend the funeral. I carried the weight alone,” she said. Clara said Soprinye is now down with a stroke and is living with a friend in another state, which she refused to disclose. “I have forgiven him, but his children have refused. God knows I never told them anything bad about him. They watched it all unfold right before their eyes. They’re no longer children, even the youngest,” she added. ‘I won’t forgive him’ It was Faith who convinced her mother to speak after our correspondent heard her share the story during a webinar on fatherhood and abandonment. “I will not forgive him,” Faith said. “I’m already engaged to be married. And by God’s grace, it will happen. If that man is truly my father, he wouldn’t have done what he did to my mother. I’m not even sure my mom told you that he used to flog her with a cane like a baby. He would ask all of us to kneel down and flog us one after another, including our mother. We would all cry and beg him, but he’d still lock us in the house for the entire day. What kind of man does that? “My mother is the one who is always forgiving. Let him go and ask God for forgiveness.” Asked if she had seen him since he became unwell, she replied, “I saw him twice, when he came with his people to beg my mum. Both of them were crying. I just took my two siblings and walked out of that gathering. I know what I had to go through to be where I am today. I know the things I did that I am not proud of. Please, let him leave us alone and go meet the other family I learnt he built while he was away.” A family member, Tamunoboma, contacted by Sunday PUNCH, said he was aware of the situation, adding that everyone had warned Soprinye repeatedly to be responsible, but he never listened. “He’s my cousin, but I can’t lie to you—he doesn’t listen. Until his mother died, she kept begging him to come back, but he refused. He doesn’t listen to anyone. That’s the problem,” he said. Tamunoboma said he had recently spoken to Soprinye, who claimed to have turned a new leaf and was urging his children to forgive him. I am a changed man, says Soprinye Telling his side of the story in a WhatsApp voice note, Soprinye said he accepted full responsibility for his past actions, admitting that he had been “overtaken by youthful exuberance and life’s pressures.” “I don’t want to trade words with my family. They remain my family. I never married another woman. I may have made some mistakes in the past, but I am a changed man now. I have pleaded with them to accept me as their father,” he said. He also confirmed that he had been battling diabetes, arthritis, and hypertension. “I’m not asking them to send me money or take care of me. I believe God will take care of that. I just want to be free. That’s all. My wife has accepted me—it’s my children’s forgiveness I’m seeking.”  Reappeared after children had grown For years, the name Titus Egbuniwe evoked silence and sorrow within his family. Once a husband and father, he vanished, leaving behind a wife and children to navigate life’s hardships alone. His absence was so profound that his wife eventually declared him “dead and gone.” But in a twist that has captured public attention, Titus returned, seeking forgiveness and reconciliation. A family torn apart Titus’s departure, he said, was not due to a lack of love but stemmed from familial disapproval. He confessed that his family did not accept his wife and pressured him to leave her. Succumbing to the pressure, he abandoned his wife and children, eventually pursuing another relationship that never culminated in marriage. During his absence, his wife bore the burden of raising their children alone, enduring years of hardship and emotional turmoil. Years later, with the children now grown, Titus returned to the family, seeking forgiveness. His reappearance was met with shock and disbelief. In a video shared by TikTok user @eseosaruben, his wife is seen expressing her astonishment, stating that to her, he was “dead and gone.” Despite the initial emotional upheaval, the family eventually reconciled, embracing the opportunity to heal and move forward. The story of Titus’s return sparked widespread discussion on social media. Many users expressed empathy for the family’s ordeal, while others criticised Titus for abandoning his responsibilities. The 2007 case In 2007, Segun Adepegba dropped off his three young children at a private boarding school in Abule-Iroko, Ogun State. Seun was six, Titilola was five, and the youngest, Seyi, was just two years old. He promised to return at the end of the school term. He didn’t. Weeks became months. Months became years, and yet, no word from their father. Solid Rock Model College, the school where they were enrolled, became their reluctant guardian. The proprietor, Mr Samuel Ayegbusi, fed and sheltered them for eight years, spending over N7m to keep them clothed, fed, and educated. All attempts to reach their father failed. Neighbours claimed he had disappeared after separating from their mother. Others said he had fallen on hard times. None of the leads yielded answers. During those years, the children grew up without birthdays, without visitors on visiting days, and without a single letter from home. Titilola, the second child and only girl, once tried to escape to search for her father. Her brothers cried themselves to sleep more nights than they could count. In 2014, after the media took up the story and public outrage soared, Segun Adepegba finally resurfaced. “I am not a wicked father,” he told journalists. He claimed he had been battling poverty and shame. After separating from his wife, Ruth Okochi, he was left homeless, jobless, and afraid. “I thought the school would arrest me for owing. I didn’t know what to do,” he said. When he returned to Solid Rock Model College, the children were no longer toddlers. Seun was now a teenager. Seyi, who had been barely out of diapers when he was left, was now speaking with a voice deeper than his father’s. They sat with him in the principal’s office, unsure whether to hug or scold him. “It felt strange,” Titilola later said. “But I still love him. I want my family back.” Adepegba apologised to the school and to his children. He promised to find their mother and begin again. Where she was, no one could say for sure. He believed she might be in Abuja. The school forgave him. The children—hesitantly—did too. The story of Segun Adepegba is a stark reminder of the ripple effects of economic hardship, marital breakdown, and the fragility of parental duty. It is also a testament to the power of the press in reuniting families and forcing accountability where silence once reigned. Chi’s story She’s 31 now and a structural engineer in the United Kingdom, but she does not know her father. “My mother told me he did not accept the pregnancy and left home. All efforts to find him to this day have proven abortive. I am married now, and I have a son. I have already prepared my mind to tell him that my father had died. I don’t want to transfer the trauma to my son, that his mother was abandoned by her father. That is traumatic,” Chi said. The silent crisis In Nigeria, the phenomenon of fathers abandoning their families has become a pressing social issue, with far-reaching consequences for children, mothers, and society at large. This silent crisis, often overshadowed by other societal challenges, demands urgent attention and comprehensive solutions. Recent data underscores the severity of paternal abandonment in Nigeria. A 2018 report by the United Nations Children’s Fund, estimated that approximately 43 per cent of Nigerian children under the age of 18 are fatherless, translating to around 17.5 million youths at heightened risk of adversity and mental health issues. An online repository, icareforthefatherless.org, stressed that the matter is too widespread and needs to be addressed before it gets out of hand. Further highlighting the issue, the National Human Rights Commission reported that in Gombe State alone, 106 fathers abandoned their children in 2023. These figures, while alarming, likely represent just a fraction of the nationwide problem, as many cases go unreported due to societal stigma and lack of formal documentation. Why are fathers leaving? A renowned sociologist at the University of Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Prof Ifeanacho Ikechukwu, said several interrelated factors contribute to the prevalence of father abandonment in Nigeria. He said, “Widespread poverty and unemployment can lead fathers to feel inadequate in their provider roles, prompting some to flee from familial responsibilities. The pressure to meet financial obligations without adequate support systems exacerbates this issue.” Ikechukwu also added that conflicts within marriages, often stemming from financial strain, infidelity, or incompatibility, can result in fathers distancing themselves from their families. In some cases, cultural norms discourage men from seeking help, leading to withdrawal and eventual abandonment. This was true in the case of Mr Osondu, who shared with our correspondent why he left his home for four years. “I didn’t abandon them. I lost my job, and my wife and kids almost sent me to my early grave. I had to run away so I would not lose my mind. I am in Aba (Abia State). Whatever I have, I will send to them. They will manage it. But if they are seeing me, the bills will be too much,” he said. Speaking further, Prof Ikechukwu said that in certain Nigerian communities, patriarchal values and the marginalisation of women’s rights could create environments where men feel justified in leaving their families, especially when societal structures fail to hold them accountable. “None of these excuses is viable as far as I am concerned. Your family is your family, and you only realise the mistake you have made if you abandon them when you are old. Who will be there for you? Who will take care of you? Nobody can do that as well as your family,” he added. Impact on children The absence of a father figure has profound implications for children’s development and well-being, says psychologist Usen Essien. “Children without paternal support often experience feelings of abandonment, low self-esteem, and trust issues. These emotional challenges can persist into adulthood, affecting relationships and mental health,” he said. He also noted that studies have shown children from fatherless homes are more likely to struggle academically. According to him, the lack of financial and emotional support can hinder educational attainment and limit future opportunities. A child and women’s rights advocate, Mrs Mercy Yohan-Davidson, said fatherless children are at higher risk of engaging in delinquent behaviour, substance abuse, and early sexual activity. “The absence of a guiding paternal presence can leave children susceptible to negative influences,” the educationist noted. Also speaking, a lawyer, Selena Onuoha, observed that weak enforcement of child support laws and limited legal consequences for absentee fathers contribute significantly to the persistence of this issue. “Without stringent legal frameworks, many fathers evade their responsibilities without consequence,” she said. Societal consequences According to the social network bettercarenetwork.org, beyond individual families, paternal abandonment carries broader societal repercussions, ranging from economic strain to intergenerational cycles of neglect. The platform noted, “Single-parent households often face financial hardships, increasing reliance on social welfare systems and charitable organisations.” It added that communities with high rates of fatherlessness may experience elevated crime rates, as youths without adequate supervision and guidance may turn to unlawful activities. “Children raised without fathers may perpetuate the cycle of abandonment in their own families, leading to a generational continuation of the problem,” it stated.  The battle for forgiveness Forgiveness, in the context of familial abandonment, is often seen as a noble and redemptive act. But for the wives and children left behind by absentee fathers, the weight of that forgiveness can be crushing. In Nigeria, where traditional values both venerate familial unity and place moral responsibility disproportionately on women and children to “hold the home,” the emotional burden of forgiving a man who walked away is one that is frequently unspoken, yet deeply felt. For many Nigerian women, abandonment by a husband is more than the loss of a partner. It is the loss of identity, social standing, economic stability, and often, a dream. A man’s departure frequently thrusts the woman into immediate and unprepared single motherhood, with little or no support, says Yohan-Davidson. “Society, however, does not pause to consider her trauma. Instead, there is often an unspoken expectation that she ‘moves on with grace,’ finds a way to survive, and keeps the children from ‘going astray.’ And if, years later, that same man returns—often aged, broke, and seeking reconciliation—it is the woman who is looked upon to forgive,” she added. “Nigerian society is harsh on single mothers. When the man returns, she is expected to be grateful that her ‘head’ has come back, even if it is clear he is only back because he needs help,” says Dr Johnbosco Chukwuorji, a clinical psychologist at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Forgiveness, then, becomes less a spiritual decision and more a societal demand. Women who express resentment or refuse reconciliation are frequently labelled “bitter,” “unforgiving,” or worse, accused of blocking their children’s destinies by nursing grudges. For the children left behind, especially those old enough to remember the absence, the journey toward forgiveness is even more fraught. Chukwuorji noted, “A father’s abandonment is a wound that rarely heals cleanly. It is felt in the missed birthdays, the unpaid school fees, the absence at key life moments—and in the haunting silence when friends talk about their dads.” “When my father came back after 20 years, I felt nothing,” recounts Kachi, a 28-year-old painter in Lagos. “He said he had made mistakes. My mother died in his absence, and we had to bear everything ourselves. How am I expected to just forgive and start calling him daddy? No. It can’t work, bro,” he dismissed. Children, especially boys in patriarchal societies like Nigeria, Chukwuorji added, often internalise their father’s absence as a personal failing. For daughters, he said, it can affect how they trust men, shaping future relationships in unhealthy ways. “In therapy rooms across the country, psychologists are encountering more adult clients trying to unravel the emotional tangles left behind by absent fathers,” he said.  Religious doctrine vs emotional reality Christian and Islamic teachings alike emphasise forgiveness as a virtue. But this religious imperative, while noble, can be dangerously simplistic when applied to the complex realities of family abandonment. When a father returns after decades, often broke and seeking emotional or financial support, the assumption is that forgiveness will lead to healing and closure. But the emotional work required for this is rarely acknowledged or supported. In many cases, wives and children suppress their true feelings to “do the right thing,” leading to internalised anger, depression, and anxiety. Speaking on the matter, a senior pastor and presbyter at the Assemblies of God Church, Prince Azunna, said forgiveness was sacrosanct in the scriptures. “It may be hard, but that is what Jesus Christ expects from us as believers—to always forgive. Let go of the past and just turn everything to Jesus,” he said. He, however, advised men to be true leaders in their homes, adding that those who abandon their families for any reason should not have gotten married in the first place. “Marriage and raising children is more than just two people coming together. It is God-ordained. The two parties must be mature, knowing that there will be ups and downs. They both must be prepared. No one should abscond and leave the responsibility for the other,” he insisted.