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Dr Victor Omololu Olunloyo: Uncommon Brilliance

On at least two different occasions, the rumour was rife on social media that he was dead. To be falsely deceased, I teased, meant that he, like Alfred Nobel, had had the chance to read his own obituary. In one particular instance, a family rebuttal revealed that he was in intensive care at the University College Hospital, Ibadan. I made for the Intensive Care Unit at UCH the next day, a Saturday morning. I was not going to disturb their care or protocol—I just had to be there in case he needed me. Expectedly, and rightfully so, the nurses barred visitors from seeing him. I wrote my name on a sheet of paper and gave it to a nurse to hand over to him, just so he would know I was outside in case he needed anything. The nurse came rushing back and said that he wanted to see me immediately. As I got to his bedside, he held my hand tightly and, to the amazement of the medical staff around, quoted the melancholy words of Jacques in Shakespeare’s As You Like It: “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts…” Right there, I stopped him in his tracks and told him he should quote no further. Instead, to his smile, we both said in unison that the exit was not now. He lived another three years after, but poorly. Finally, with every man inevitably heading to his exit, death, not wholly unexpected, came calling on April 6, 2025, after he had played many parts following an innings of 89. The preparation for these many parts began at Government College, Ibadan, in 1948, although he was a scion of an illustrious family, the first educated elite and early Christians in Ibadan. When David and Anna Hinderer, the first CMS missionaries, came to Ibadan in 1853, they were placed in the care of Balogun Olunloyo, a warlord and high chief of Ibadan. Balogun Olunloyo’s children, Akinyele (male) and Yejide (female), found play and school with the Hinderers. Akinyele became the first male literate of Ibadan, while Yejide became the first female literate. Yejide Girls’ Grammar School, Ibadan, is named after her. The Olunloyos prominently took up early church, civil, and administrative roles in Ibadan. The Akinyele line produced Horatio Vincent Olunloyo, who was Victor Omololu’s father. The brilliant signs of Horatio’s first son, Victor Omololu Olunloyo, were there even precociously from primary school. He took the common entrance examination, which was a global examination for all primary school leavers, and he was first in 1946 and 1947 in the whole of the Ibadan District Church Council schools, from Ibadan to Gbongan, Ikirun, and Osogbo. It was while at St. Peter’s Aremo Primary School that he was introduced to mathematics by an impressionable teacher, J.A.F. Sokoya, in a remarkable and inspiring way. He saw early and clearly the relations of integers and that there was a concrete connection between mathematics and real life. Here, foundational mathematics was planted to flourish in him for the rest of his life. In 1948, he entered Government College, Ibadan, from Standard Five, as the youngest in his class, when most of his classmates came in from Standard Six. It took him some time to rally. Once he found his stride in the second year, he never let go of the first position in Mathematics. To be first meant not just to score high but to get everything. Two illustrations will suffice. A Mathematics examination was to be administered by the teacher, Mr W.H. Browne. The teacher intended to write the questions on the board, head off for tea in the staff room, and return later to collect the students’ scripts. As he wrote the first question, he asked the students to begin. There were five questions, and they were to answer all of them. Just as he finished writing the fifth question and was gathering his papers to leave for tea, Olunloyo raised his hand. “What is it, Olunloyo?” the teacher queried. “I have finished, sir,” Olunloyo replied. The teacher initially thought it was a prank. He remonstrated with Olunloyo, then collected his script to mark it, only to find, indeed, that he had completed the exam and got everything right. There was an ‘unsolvable’ problem in the Mathematics textbook by C.V. Durell. At the time, it was common practice to tackle every problem in a textbook to gain mastery of the subject. This particular question had become a generational challenge—no one in the annals of GCI who had used Durell’s textbook had been able to solve it. It centred around a billiard table and was so complex because it required a spatial understanding beyond the students’ experience—they had never seen a billiard table before. Then, Mr A. Long, the principal, was scheduled to visit a friend at the University College, Ibadan, and took some boys along. One of them was Olunloyo. During the visit, they stopped by the Senior Staff Dining Hall and Recreation Centre, and for the first time, the boys saw a billiard table—and a game was on. Olunloyo took a careful look, his mind immediately entering a conjectural state. He could hardly wait to return to school to tackle the intractable Durell problem—the one that had confounded his class and their seniors. Back at school, he settled down to the problem and finally solved it. In a moment of sheer exhilaration, he threw off his uniform—some said he went completely nude—running wildly around his house, Grier, shouting: “I have solved it! I have solved it!! I have solved it!!!” It was a momentous occasion in schoolboy mathematics. His brilliance and escapades at GCI became legendary. He went on to record a Grade 1 in his final year at GCI, with an A1 in Mathematics. Following GCI, he dazzled with remarkable academic performances. He spent just seven months preparing for his HSC Examinations, a programme that would ordinarily take two years, and passed with AAAC. He spent three months at the University College, Ibadan, and passed the Intermediate BSc, another two-year programme. Though brief, his stay at UCI left lasting records. In tests and examinations, when students were asked to solve three out of five mathematical problems, Olunloyo would solve four within the allotted time and write on his script: “Mark any three.” He got them all correct. His fellow students fittingly nicknamed him Mark Any Three. His brilliance drew attention from far and wide. Adegoke Adelabu and Emmanuel Alayande saw in him a special Ibadan poster boy, a source of pride. M.S. Sowole, Ambassador and Agent-General for Western Nigeria in the UK; his father’s contemporary and close friend; Lady Kofo Ademola; and others saw in him a national academic prodigy. They leaned towards sending him abroad for university training. Olunloyo’s heart, however, was set on the University of Manchester. Why? Manchester was, at the time, one of the leading institutions in the UK offering Technology. Ademola Banjo was already there, making waves, having just earned a First Class in Mechanical Engineering. But Lady Kofo Ademola had different ideas. She wanted Olunloyo to attend Cambridge University, to become part of the prestigious institution that had produced some of the finest minds in Mathematics: Isaac Newton, Alan Turing, Carl Gauss, among others. She also desired it for sentimental reasons—it was where her husband, Sir Adetokunbo Ademola, had studied. Cambridge, however, offered only a deferred admission, as the academic session had already begun. Olunloyo was not inclined to wait idly for a year. Lady Ademola was challenged to find another prestigious university that offered immediate admission. That quest led him to St Andrews College. The University of St Andrews is no pushover. It is the topmost and oldest university in Scotland. It is a university much favoured by the British royalty. It was established in 1413, and it is as renowned as the University of Oxford, founded in 1096, and the University of Cambridge, founded in 1209. Coming with only three months from the University College, Ibadan, Olunloyo was placed in the first year to study Mechanical Engineering. He kicked against his placement because he wanted to be placed in the second year, and he was adamant about this. By precedent, this was not done, but Olunloyo was obstinately insistent. He took his case to his Head of Department, Prof Caldericks. Finally, Caldericks took the matter to the Senate, whereupon they reluctantly agreed to put him in the second year on the condition that he took a test in Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry. Olunloyo pleaded for a week of preparation before the tests were served. When the tests were served—three hours per subject—and marked, he scored 98, 88, and 84 per cent in Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry, respectively. St Andrews immediately placed him in the second year. In that second-year class, he led in all the subjects he took. He became a unique academic specimen, and this time, it was the Senate pressing to meet him. Prof Caldericks took his student to the Senate to the amazement of all the dons. Olunloyo got their bow. One of the amazing things he did in an examination of 150 questions, in which they were expected to do 100, was to do all, and he scored 132 per cent. The next student to him scored 89 per cent, while the third scored 66 per cent. At graduation in 1957, six academic medals were available in his department; Olunloyo won five, and the sixth was won by Ifedayo Oladapo, both Nigerians, both old boys of Government College, Ibadan, and both classmates at GCI. Olunloyo recorded, of course, a first class in Mechanical Engineering. So did Ifedayo Oladapo, who went on to do his PhD at Cambridge. At the end of the graduation year, the best results from the top ten universities in the UK, the Ivy League institutions, are pooled, and the very best of them get the most prestigious prize, the 1939 Prize, and to also dine with the monarch. It was Olunloyo who won the British Association Prize for the Most Distinguished Student in the Faculties of Science, and so dined with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth in 1958. Olunloyo was exempted from a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Mathematics and instead went straight on to do a PhD—a four to seven-year programme. He did it in a record time of two years with outstanding merit, finishing in 1959. He was 24. Let us not debate: he was one of Nigeria’s most brilliant men. His brilliance was proudly extolled both overseas and in Nigeria. He returned to Nigeria, and marriage soon followed. I point this out just to relate it to brilliance. For his honeymoon, he and his first wife, Funmilayo, flew to the UK. On their return from Liverpool, they hitched a ride back on the Prime Minister’s yacht that had gone over for repairs. It was going to be a new adventure—returning home by sea. Early one morning in the middle of the journey, Olunloyo looked to the sun and to his shadow on the deck and used both to plot a mental compass, enough to determine that the ship was headed in the wrong direction. He asked for the captain to come to the deck. He shared his mental calculations, and the captain laughed. A disdainful laugh followed, and then silence fell, followed by a reflective sigh. At the captain’s command in his cabin were dials pointing directions, knots showing speed, scopes indicating the depth of water and coordinates—and here was Olunloyo without a tool other than a phenomenal brain telling him he was taking the ship in the wrong direction. Olunloyo asked that he should go back to check his controls. The captain went back to his control and checked his dials and his consoles, and when he returned this time, there were sweat beads on his eyebrows. He found that the ship was headed in the wrong direction on the mighty sea. The captain, speechless, motioned that Olunloyo should go back to his cabin. He was going to do a right-about-turn with the ship, the kind, if you are familiar with the sea, that brings about instant sea sickness. Well, better be sick than dead. Olunloyo, armed only with his brain and the rays of the sun, saved the ship, the crew, and the passengers from imminent disaster. On a flight home from London on one occasion, Olunloyo ran into Prof Wole Soyinka on the plane as he was putting his carrier bag in the overhead compartment. ‘Hello, editor of Mustard Seed.’ Wole Soyinka instantly turned and smiled. Soyinka was editor of Grier House magazine, Mustard Seed, in their school days at GCI and was two years Olunloyo’s senior. Both Soyinka and Olunloyo were in Grier House, both now academics, both sideline activists and politicians, both Ibadan ruminants who knew its nooks and crannies for all its notable culinary joints. So there was plenty to share and to heartily reminisce about before they took their seats on the plane. Watching quizzically as they engaged were two students from the Middle East. Nervously, they went to Olunloyo. ‘Sir, is that Wole Soyinka, the Nobel laureate, that you were talking to?’ Olunloyo answered in the affirmative, and both students nodded to themselves as if to say, I told you so. Soyinka, with his mane, is unmistakable. The students summoned courage and approached Soyinka to pay their respects and admiration. They were mathematics students, so they asked Soyinka if Nigeria also had mathematicians of his stature. All Soyinka did was look back from his seat and point them to Olunloyo, who led them to him. The students returned to Olunloyo and laid bare their mathematics problem. They wanted a simultaneous equation problem involving three unknowns solved. Olunloyo asked for a sheet of paper and solved the problem with three approaches: substitution, matrices, and moulds, to arrive at the same answer. It left the students with their mouths hanging open. Suddenly, they exclaimed: ‘Nigeria is full of geniuses.’ Perhaps so; who knows? When Lekan Are, his friend and classmate, was going to be 80, I teased him that Lekan’s GCI school number was 514, ahead of his at 546, making Lekan a quasi-senior boy. His mind went in a different direction. He said to me, ‘Lekan’s number at 514 is very interesting. That is, two to the power of nine (512) plus two to the power of one (2), making 514, which in binary language is 1,000,000,010 for the computer.’ Anyone who thinks like that must be crazy. Olunloyo was crazy about mathematics. I once had a week-long programme in Oxford. Somehow, I finished by Friday and now had the weekend to myself. To occupy the weekend, I needed a handy book to engage me, and so I went to Blackwell’s bookshop for one. I found none, until I ran into a mathematics book. So captivated was I that I read the book to the bookshop’s till, through the bus ride to my hotel, and by the next day, I had finished reading the book. Excitedly, I called my wife with élan about my read, and she asked, as women are wont to do, whether I was under the influence. She declined to share the book with me and instead suggested that I give the book to Olunloyo. As soon as I returned to Nigeria, I went to Olunloyo with my new find. Unsurprisingly, he sat me down and gave me a fuller lecture on Srinivasa Ramanujan, the Indian mathematician who took a mathematics chair at Cambridge without a university degree. Olunloyo just simply knew mathematics. When integers stood alone or together, he saw ascension or descension; he could make their evenness or oddities; when placed on top of one another and fractionated, he could make sense of them all; when a full stop was thrown around numbers, the decimals were his companions; seeing figures, he could make an apparent or inherent meaning from them; he could see figures when sequenced or looped; even when numbers were chaotic, he could make sense out of chaos. Given any figure, he saw a deeper meaning, and with several figures, he could interpret where, under the same circumstances, the rest of us drew a blank. So, for him, there was maths and beauty everywhere around us—in literature, in music, and in horticulture. Three years ago, he introduced me to the maths in graphic arts through the works of the genius E.C. Escher. Olunloyo was just simply phenomenal—a wondrous make, a mathematical head, pure and simple. But he was humble enough to acknowledge the vastness of knowledge, and he made it a daily assignment to learn continuously. And so he spent endless hours in his study and paid weekly visits to the bookshop. Even when he suffered a stroke, he put his head to the test, and when the faculty was still fully operational, he said the legs could go as long as the head was intact. He rode around in a wheelchair in his study and made regular visits to the bookshop. On his penultimate visit, he sent me a note… He wrote that the bill be given to ‘Kolade, whatever his surname’, and this was coming from ‘Olunloyo, the man with constitutional authority’. Sometimes, at public functions, he was bewitched by his thoughts. He would bend over a sheet of paper to solve some mathematical problems. In this mood, I knew better than to disturb his train of thought. When admirers, friends, and relations stopped by to say hello, they found him vacant—he was in a different realm. Surprisingly, though, and almost magically, he still followed the proceedings of the function. You knew this because, at the end of the event, he could engage by giving a blow-by-blow account of all that had transpired. In his professional life, he took up an academic position as a lecturer at the University of Ibadan, then at the University of Ife. He was later appointed Rector of The Polytechnic, Ibadan, and briefly served at The Polytechnic, Kwara. He held variegated positions within government and academic institutions, 55 in total, spanning 45 years of service. He served as Commissioner for Economic Planning and Community Development, and Commissioner for Education in the Western State. At one point, he held two portfolios concurrently, Commissioner for Education and Commissioner for Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs. In many of these institutions, regardless of his title, he functioned as a troubleshooter, an ombudsman, a fixer of intractable problems—an interventionist minister. It was against this background that he set his sights on politics and was briefly drawn into serving as the Governor of Oyo State. I did not think much of his foray into politics and never hid that from him. He was a mass of contradictions. Once, he told me that the politics of Oyo State operated on a tripod: Lamidi Adedibu provided the brawn; Azeez Arisekola and Yekini Adeojo, the money; and Olunloyo, the brain, to formulate ideology and strategy. I was never impressed. I thought he had aligned himself with men whose quest for power knew no bounds. But he countered that political parties are made up of angels and devils, less of one than the other. I have since come to see the truth in that statement. Often, when he spoke of politics, I listened intently but with dissimulation. I believed he had started his mathematical journey brilliantly, but it had stalled the moment he veered into politics. I wish he had stayed true and exclusively focused on mathematics and engineering. His wealth of intellect and profound faculty would have resonated globally far more than his political legacy ever did. But he strayed into politics and remained mercurial in it—because he attempted to solve it using equations and theorems. It was a struggle that consumed him till the very end. For all his brilliance, he lacked financial intelligence. This dogged him in his twilight years, largely due to the huge expense of prolonged medical care. His family’s healthcare costs were also exorbitant over many years. People like him ought to have been retained in the financial courts of government or academia, never to be disturbed by mundane matters such as finances. Their focus ought to be scholarship, morning, noon, and night. He was on scholarship throughout his academic career. He could have been a national scholar for life. I am certain Olunloyo would not mind my mentioning his indebtedness to his family and to the late Abiola Ajimobi, late Lekan Are, late Alaafin Oba Lamidi Adeyemi, Pastor Enoch Adeboye, Rasheed Ladoja, Governor Seyi Makinde, Chief Bode George, Dr Wale Babalakin, Pastor William Kumuyi, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, Professor Gabriel Ogunmola, Chief Kola Daisi, Lekan Ademosu, and General Ibrahim Babangida. Friends do not often reveal what friends do, but he repeatedly sang their praises for the support they extended to him. Given the portrait I have painted in this essay, one must ask: where truly lay his talent—in scholarship, particularly mathematics and engineering, or in politics? I cast my lot with scholarship. He knew I spoke little and wrote even less, but when I did, I was free in my expression. That was the foundation of our bond. I was one of his sounding boards. He was a great friend, senior, and mentor. I will miss his endless stream of conversation, from Beethoven to Newton, Einstein to Awolowo and Akintola, and of course, Euler, Ramanujan, Hawkins, and Archimedes—his fellow mathematicians. He was a polyglot, a polymath, an iconic and itinerant teacher, a maverick, and a restless politician. Such was the ease with which he could move from Pythagoras through Aristotle and Dante, to Nietzsche and Shakespeare. He was, indeed, deeply cultured. I recall a tale he once told me. Chief Obafemi Awolowo had written a letter to him in which he stated categorically, ‘…When I become 80…’ Olunloyo returned the letter the following day, having read it, and added two words to make it read, ‘…if and when I become 80…’ Awolowo accepted the correction. The Good Lord called Awolowo home at 79. Man’s limitation and language must always make provision for divine will—deo volente, an ablative absolute expression meaning God willing. On Saturday, April 5, 2025, Dr Olunloyo called me not once, but four times. On the fourth call, he asked me to undertake an assignment. I sent a note to the mutual friend he directed me to, and added, ‘By the way, Dr Victor Olunloyo will be 90 on April 14, 2025.’ Suddenly, I remembered his tale and quickly corrected myself to write, ‘…Dr Victor Olunloyo will be 90 on April 14, 2025, God willing.’ In divine providence, the Good Lord called him home the next day, April 6, 2025. When death finally came, even though prior rumours and hospitalisations had prepared me, I shed a tear. …Last scene of all That ends this strange, eventful history Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. —William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII  

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Tinubus Remote Work Week And The State Police Saga

On Saturday, August 12, 2000, the Russian nuclear submarine K‑141 Kursk blew apart during an exercise in the cold Barents Sea. The boat was participating in Russia’s largest naval war‑game since the Soviet collapse when a faulty training torpedo exploded at 11:28 a.m. A larger blast two minutes later ripped open the bow and sent the 18-metre-high vessel to the bottom of the sea. Most of the 118 sailors died instantly. 23 trapped in the aft compartment survived for several hours. In darkness, they rationed emergency “oxygen candles,” knowing each one bought only a few more minutes of breathable air. 27-year-old Warrant Officer Dmitry Kolesnikov sent the last note: “All the crew from sections six, seven and eight have moved here, to section nine. There are 23 of us…We have decided because none of us can get to the surface.” They kept hammering SOS on the hull until the taps fell silent. Analysts believe the men suffocated late Sunday or early Monday as they ran out of oxygen cartridges. Above them, a heated politics was underway. The Russian government, reluctant to expose naval secrets, repeatedly rejected British and Norwegian rescue offers and told the press that everything was “under control.” When foreign divers finally attached a rescue bell eight days later, every sailor was dead. The mission shifted from rescue to body recovery, and the Kursk remains a warning: when leaders value optics over oxygen, the people die. Today, Nigerians in Plateau, Benue and Enugu are enduring a “Kursk moment.” Since early April, more than 120 locals have been shot, hacked or burned to death in Plateau State alone, according to Amnesty International and multiple eyewitness accounts. Relief agencies say the toll is higher, citing coordinated night raids on Bokkos and Bassa that left burnt homes and 3,000 displaced. In Benue, police confirmed 17 deaths in Logo and Gbagir after twin assaults blamed on armed herders. Enugu’s casualty count is still lost in a fog of propaganda and denial. Yet, a proposal most Nigerians agree would expand policing to the remotest hamlets—State Police—has remained stuck in the gears of federal politics for 14 months. In February 2024, President Bola Tinubu won “in principle” support from all 36 governors to create State Police during an emergency meeting at the Aso Villa. The Minister of Information and National Orientation, Mohammed Idris, who addressed journalists afterwards, explained that the process was still in its infancy and would only take shape after more deliberations among stakeholders. “This is still going to be further discussed. A lot of work must be done in that direction. But if our government and the state governments agree to the necessity of having state police, this is a significant shift,” he said. Two days earlier, the House of Representatives said it was considering a legislative bill “for the establishment of State Police and related matters.” Then a year of paperwork began. Governors filed position papers; the National Economic Council at its 147th session last December merely “took note” of the submissions and pushed the real debate to January 2025. A January meeting never happened. In February, the council said it was still “harmonising” reports and stakeholder consultations. Kaduna Governor Uba Sani, battling banditry at home, told journalists after the December meeting that most states back the idea because the FG is unable to cover all areas adequately. “I want to say here clearly that most of us are in agreement with the establishment of State Police…State Police in Nigeria is the way forward toward addressing the problem of insecurity,” Sani said. Fourteen months later, no enabling bill has reached the Senate floor, and no timetable exists for the formation of the State Police. Make no mistake: the NEC is only an advisory body, but one with much power to advise the President and his Federal Executive Council. While files shuffle in Abuja, Nigerians are digging graves. Those fortunate to escape with their lives have fled home. A rescue tool is within reach, but, like it was in the Kursk incident, politics, sources say, is stalling the process. In 2000, Putin feared revealing naval weakness; today, some fear governors might weaponise loyal guns against their rivals. Though these concerns are valid, they ring hollow to parents identifying their children’s bodies in Jos. Meanwhile, President Tinubu is away in Europe for a working visit. The Presidency says he continues to direct state affairs from Europe despite being outside the country for over two weeks. This feeds into an enduring remote work culture of Nigerian Presidents dating back to the Yar’Adua years. Amid the killings, the President issued a personal Easter statement consoling those who lost loved ones and their homes. However, the gesture felt more like a condolence text message to a grieving friend who desperately needs the warmth of company. In my piece on May 12, 2024, I wrote that Nigerians have been traumatised by the familiar rhythm of long-distance relationships with their presidents. Nonetheless, the President can bridge that gap somewhat by visiting the affected areas after his return on Easter Monday.

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There Was A Soldier

During my Class 6 days at the Nigerian Military School, Zaria, a certain Staff Sergeant Ayuba Amos reported to the school. He was deployed as Sergeant Major for our company, Foxtrot, replacing the legendary S/Sgt Abubakar Buba, nicknamed Oga Lucifer. My first memory of S/Sgt Amos was when he was made the Duty Senior NCO and addressed us on the parade ground. He had an imposing physique—huge build, dark complexion, and a towering presence. The man radiated raw energy. You didn’t need anyone to tell you—just one glance, and you knew: this was a complete combatant soldier. While addressing us, he didn’t bother with too much grammar. In fact, his first words were: “If I catch you outside during lights out, I will put you in a Ghana-Must-Go bag.” Just like that. No preamble. No diplomacy. Because of his massive size, you could literally hear the ground respond with a soft rumble when he walked. I’m not exaggerating—his footsteps had their own bass line. Then came Morning PT. One day, he led our company and introduced a new morale we had never heard before. He started with: “Everybodiooooo!” We responded, “Gongoji!” He shouted again, “I can’t hear you oooooo!” And we roared back, “Gongoji!!” That was it! The legend of Oga Gongoji was born. And as he chanted the morale, he would jog and spin 360 degrees like a powered turbine. The energy was unreal! Soon, the gist began to fly – tales of his exploits in Sierra Leone during ECOMOG’s peacekeeping operations during the Liberian Civil War. They said he killed rebels with his bare hands. That the rebels placed a bounty on his head because of the chaos he caused in their ranks. That his picture was even featured in New Soja Magazine (yes, the one I posted above). Gallant stories everywhere! In one of our interactions, he being our CSM and we, his ever-suspicious Class Six boys, he told us how he alone operated the General Purpose Machine Gun, a weapon meant for three men. I thought it was just soldier yarn until I watched the documentary Cry Freetown, and there he was, slinging the GPMG round his neck. He told us once that after a good breakfast, specifically, one full paint rubber of tea and two giant loaves of bread, he could dig a machine gun trench alone. That machine gun trench, mind you, is also meant for three men. Oh, and I personally witnessed him push his small red car from the NMS main gate to the PS Quarters. I think the fuel finished halfway, but did that stop him? No. He just got out and started pushing it—like that. Above are just a few stories I remember, but truly, he was a brave soldier. As our CSM, he pushed us hard, but always for our good. He was also hilariously funny—he had a habit of mimicking us when we got caught doing something ridiculous. His impressions were brutal… and accurate. But today, I woke up to a post that he passed away last week. Just like that. The same man who walked like thunder, sang like a war drum, and fought like a warrior… is gone. May his gentle soul rest in perfect peace. RIP Oga Gongoji. You were one of one.

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Reasons For The Re-mergence Of Tuberculosis (TB)

March 24, 2025, was set aside by the World Health Organisation as World Tuberculosis Day to commemorate the day in 1882 when one of the true giants of early medicine, Dr Robert Koch, announced his discovery of the bacterium that causes the disease. The first World TB Day was observed in 1982, a full century after Koch’s groundbreaking discovery. Tuberculosis is notable for causing fever, a persistent cough that produces yellowish sputum, increasing sputum production, which may occasionally be bloody, and weight loss. This date is marked globally to raise awareness about the devastating health, social, and economic consequences of TB and to accelerate efforts to end the global TB epidemic. The re-emergence of tuberculosis around the world is a complex issue influenced by a variety of remote and immediate factors. Understanding these requires examining the underlying social, economic, and biological determinants, as well as more recent events and trends. In an essay titled, ‘An Old Disease Strikes Back’ published on this page in 2013, we argued that various strains of the disease were re-emerging in different ways, not least due to its close association with people living with HIV/AIDS, but also because, at the time, the country appeared likely to witness a rise in TB cases if the required level of disease surveillance were to weaken. Well, we have seen how remote causes behind this renewed spread, such as weak healthcare systems across many regions of the world, particularly in low- and middle-income countries, have worsened the problem. In Nigeria’s case, the steady emigration of all categories of healthcare workers, the rising level of insecurity, especially in the north, and failing, dilapidated infrastructure, particularly concerning electricity supply and the lack of motorable roads, have all contributed to a retreat in basic services, even in areas where the country had previously made some progress. A steady power supply is indispensable for the proper storage of vaccines, for instance. When this singular factor is absent, entire communities may have their children denied the health benefits of immunisation against tuberculosis. A fortnight ago, we examined some of the reasons why diphtheria was ravaging the country. Now, the conversation has shifted to tuberculosis. Together, these two infections account for one-third of the six most common killer diseases in infants and young children under the age of five. To be sure, tuberculosis is the most common infectious disease in the world, and also the most deadly. It is estimated that up to one-quarter of the global population has had this infection. Yet it is a preventable disease, treatable with antibiotics. TB exists everywhere in the world; no country is exempt. However, the majority of infections occur in the poorest and middle-income nations. It is no coincidence that these are the very countries plagued by inadequate health services, leading to poor TB diagnosis, treatment, and management. These are also the countries least equipped to mount the levels of disease surveillance and reporting mechanisms required to track and control TB outbreaks effectively. The disease is caused by bacteria that primarily affect the lungs, and like diphtheria, most infections are spread through coughing and sneezing. However, other parts of the body can also be affected, depending on how the infection is contracted. For example, the stomach can be involved if people consume fresh milk from goats, sheep, or cows infected with the animal variant of TB. In individuals with compromised immune systems, such as those living with HIV/AIDS or chronic illnesses like diabetes, liver disease, or kidney disease, or in cases of severe malnutrition, the infection can spread to other parts of the body, including the kidneys, brain, spine, and reproductive system. Additionally, rapid urbanisation in developing countries has led to overcrowded living conditions, which further facilitates the spread of TB. Many of these countries are located in sub-Saharan Africa, which remains a massive reservoir for both the bacteria and the disease. Economic and social inequalities have understandably arisen in many of these countries. Such disparities, caused either by design or circumstance, have further deepened the inequalities in social conditions. Economic globalisation can worsen these gaps in health investment, as governments often divert much-needed resources to other areas of development, resulting in poor TB control in certain regions. In Nigeria, as in many other similarly positioned countries both geographically and economically, high levels of poverty limit access to healthcare, proper nutrition, and living conditions conducive to good health. Worse still, these vulnerable populations are the very same people forced to pay for healthcare out of pocket. There is little to no health insurance, and where any exists, as in the chaotic structure we have, many essential medications are often unavailable. These vulnerable groups are also more susceptible to infections like TB. Global travel and migration have further facilitated the spread of TB across borders, as impoverished individuals and ambitious others seeking to climb the socioeconomic ladder travel the globe in search of better opportunities, trade links, and education. The emergence of the HIV epidemic also contributed significantly to TB’s resurgence, as individuals with compromised immune systems became more vulnerable to TB infection. As if these challenges weren’t already enough, the emergence of multidrug-resistant TB (MDR-TB)—resulting from inadequate treatment regimens and poor adherence to TB therapy—has further complicated control efforts. Then came the COVID-19 pandemic, which severely disrupted health services worldwide, diverting attention and resources from TB programmes and leading to missed diagnoses, treatment delays, and interruptions. In many of our traditional communities, TB remains heavily stigmatised, often leading to delays in seeking treatment. Public awareness campaigns are generally inadequate, perpetuating the cycle of transmission and creating diagnostic challenges. This leads to delayed diagnoses, particularly in remote areas and in communities under siege by gunmen. In these regions, the lack of awareness about TB symptoms and the limited access to diagnostic tools are especially pronounced. Additional contributing factors, such as malnutrition, poor housing, and substance abuse, previously discussed under the concept of “health poverty”,—further increase susceptibility and facilitate transmission within communities. Global efforts to combat TB have reportedly saved an estimated 79 million lives since the year 2000. However, drastic and abrupt cuts to global health funding, particularly under United States President Donald Trump, now threaten to reverse these hard-won gains. Rising drug resistance, especially across Europe, as well as ongoing conflicts across the Middle East, Africa, and Eastern Europe, are further worsening conditions for the most vulnerable. The U.S. support for global health may constitute a small portion of its domestic budget, but it accounts for a significant share of international health funding. In 2023, U.S. global health spending represented just about 0.3 per cent of its federal budget, approximately $20.6bn out of a $6.1tn appropriation. Yet, that same year, the U.S. was responsible for nearly three-quarters of international development assistance for HIV/AIDS, 40 per cent of global malaria aid, and over one-third of TB funding. Until recently, the U.S. was also the single largest financier of the World Health Organisation, the biggest provider of vaccines to the COVID-19 multilateral vaccine initiative, and the main driver behind the Pandemic Fund, a World Bank vehicle that invests in low-income countries to prevent infectious disease outbreaks. Unfortunately, America’s retreat from these initiatives is unlikely to be compensated for by countries like China, which, despite its considerable wealth, has often acted with self-interest, aggressively extracting resources from nearly every corner of the globe. Reduced funding for TB control programmes will inevitably result in insufficient outreach and treatment efforts, allowing the disease to re-emerge within vulnerable populations. The resurgence of tuberculosis is therefore a complex interplay of remote and immediate factors. Addressing it requires a multipronged approach: strengthening healthcare systems, tackling the social determinants of health, improving access to diagnostic tools, ensuring adherence to proper treatment regimens, and scaling up public awareness. These steps are essential for combating this global health threat, but they will take time and demand strong political will from the leadership of the most affected nations. Sadly, most of the countries most vulnerable to TB have neither of these attributes. For years, funding for TB research and treatment has been inadequate, resulting in a shortage of effective treatments and diagnostic tools. The development of new drugs and vaccines has been slow, and the few that exist are often inaccessible to those who need them most. Lastly, climate change and conflict, as we currently experience in Nigeria’s north, have also played a role in the TB resurgence, by causing displacement, poor living conditions, and increased transmission of the disease. Good day, Doctor Sylvester. I have been having this recurring headache over the past few days. The headache is mostly on my forehead. I think it may be related to my broken sleep during the night, around 2 am when I wake up to pray, and the need to wake up early to drive my children to school. I checked my blood pressure this morning, and it was 138/71 with a pulse of 52. This evening (about 2 minutes ago), the reading was 144/77 with a pulse of 62. I don’t usually have any problems with my blood pressure, but we have this machine at home because of my late brother, who was hypertensive. What could the problem be, and what is the solution? 08064863*** Thank you for your important question. If your body or system is accustomed to a particular sleep pattern, disrupting that, such as waking up in the middle of the night for prayers, can lead to consequences for how you feel when you wake up to carry out your daily chores. If the timing of your night-time prayers is flexible, you might consider adjusting the timing to around 4 am. This way, once you finish your prayers, you can easily transition into your usual activities. This adjustment may be easier on your body. Unfortunately, you didn’t mention your age, which would be useful in further assessing your situation. Please, I have been feeling light-headed since yesterday. I thought it might be due to the ongoing fasting, but I also had some body aches when I woke up yesterday, though the body pain is no longer there. However, I still feel light-headed. What should I do about this? Thank you. 08027202*** Good afternoon to you as well. It’s not clear what type of fasting you are doing, but generally, fasting can lead to inadequate fluid intake, especially with the heat we are experiencing. If you’re not drinking enough water, it’s quite common to feel light-headed. Since your only symptoms are headaches and light-headedness, it’s crucial to focus on staying hydrated over the next two days and observe how your body responds. Aim to drink a minimum of 3 litres of water a day. Dear Dr Sylvester, my mother is 90 years old, and she is constantly scratching her body. It disturbs her at night, and she cannot sleep well. Now, for the past 5 days or so, whenever she scratches her skin, it begins to peel. The problem we have is how to get her to the hospital, as she is almost confined to a wheelchair. What can we do about this skin itching? 08033526*** Thank you for your question. At her age, her skin is likely very dry and thin, which could explain the intense itching she is experiencing. Ideally, a doctor should examine her skin, but in the meantime, you can help by applying a good moisturising cream or lotion that has excellent hydrating properties. Additionally, a low dose of Piriton tablets, taken twice a day, can help relieve her discomfort and help her sleep. If the itching persists after five to seven days of this treatment, you will need to get her to see a doctor or have one come to examine her at home. Dear doctor, thank you immensely for how kindly you solve people’s problems. God will bless you abundantly. I have been experiencing infections on and off in my private parts for the past seven weeks. I am a 46-year-old woman, and I am also struggling with menopause, which was so bad that my doctor had to prescribe a pill that has helped somewhat. This infection is terrible; there is a whitish discharge that is very itchy but has no smell. I did some tests, and my doctor put me on treatment for 10 days with tablets and injections. These treatments were very expensive, and to now find out that the infection is still there is depressing. It stopped for about two weeks and has now returned. This is very tiring. What is the solution, please? 08054192*** Thank you for your kind words and prayers, madam. The symptoms you’ve described are likely related to menopause. The vaginal dryness that often accompanies menopause makes you more susceptible to infections, particularly fungal ones. The situation you are experiencing sounds like a recurring fungal infection, which is common during this stage. Unfortunately, there is no quick fix without proper laboratory testing to identify the exact organisms causing the infection. These tests will help determine which antibiotics or antifungal treatments are most effective. Since the infection returned quickly, it is possible that the treatment you received was inadequate or that a different organism is involved that wasn’t addressed in the original treatment. Dear doctor, thank you for your previous advice on health issues. My problem is that I had unprotected sex with a man I randomly met, and now my period is one week overdue. This has never happened to me before. I am 31 years old and very worried. What should I do now? Please help me. +23490472761*** Thank you for your kind words. This is a common concern among young women who may feel anxious after such an experience. The first step is to take a rational approach. Since your period is delayed and you had unprotected sex, you should take a laboratory pregnancy test. The next steps will depend on the result. It may simply be a harmless delay or a missed period, but the best way to find out for sure is to conduct a pregnancy test, preferably a blood test. Good morning, doctor. I wish to thank you for the free healthcare consultations you render every Sunday in the Punch Newspaper. God Almighty will continue to bless and prosper you and your family in Jesus’ Mighty Name. Here is my issue: It concerns my 3-year-old son, who has been coughing on and off for almost 2 weeks now. He also has a runny nose. He plays well during the day and hardly even coughs. But at night, we hardly sleep because he starts coughing from the moment he lies down till early in the morning. Why is this? What should we do about it? 08023450*** Thank you very much for your prayers and kind words. This kind of situation often results when a child lies down and the secretions from the nostrils then flow backwards into the throat. There, the secretions, called mucus, irritate the tiny hairs in that area and initiate a cough. For as long as the backflow of mucus goes on, so will the child cough. You should get a doctor to examine him and be sure his chest is not involved in this event. After that, successful treatment with relevant medications should be pretty satisfactory. Good day to you, doctor. My granddaughter is just over one year and five months old, but she has been coughing persistently without any improvement since the beginning of February. She has been to the hospital several times — about three times — and each time, after examining her, the doctors prescribe the same medications: Primpex, Vitamin C, and Coflin. The cough has not stopped; there is no improvement at all. What can we do about this? I am very worried, please.  08034441*** Good day to you as well. The fact that the cough is not stopping does not necessarily mean there is a serious problem. Many common episodes of respiratory tract infections like this are most likely caused by a virus. So, if she is not running a fever, continues to play, is feeding well, and is not breathing abnormally fast, there may be no cause for alarm. However, depending on the type of hospital your granddaughter has been attending, she should be scheduled to see a paediatrician. The paediatrician may have a different perspective from the doctors who have treated her so far and could make some changes to her prescription that may lead to a more effective outcome. Good luck with that.