This is a moving story.
I can relate to the grief of losing an elder brother, I walked that road 13 years ago, much younger, and less prepared for the pain. I commiserate with Mr. Onwordi as they go through this painful experience.
Then, reading through the essay, I can’t help but get upset at Mr. Onwordi’s pain to “keep the names of the hospitals, doctors, etc confidential.” That is the principal matter that ails our society.
At UNEC/UNTH, we knew the lecturers that took money for grades, more interested in their private practice than their teaching hospital job, etc. In Mr. Onwordi’s practice, they know the doctors that are negligent, but don’t want “wahala,” so, we keep their names under wrap, to kill the next person whose kin don’t have the voice of Toni Kan.
I ask, what do we intend to achieve when we conceal the names of the bank that was involved in fraud, the eatery that was dinked for poor sanitation, the bus line that has security issues, a doctor that leaves much to be desired, a hospital that is ill-equipped to be called one, etc?
I lost a brother who went to work as a medical doctor at UNTH, Osita Okeke, but came back in a box, never to see his unborn daughter. I feel the pain everyday I look at her, and still hope to institute some enquiry now I am in a position to get a thing or two done.
I get angry, and I mean very angry when we “conceal” the names of culprits, or just names of the people and/or institutions involved in an unsavoury story, we desecrate the memories of our brothers, sisters, and all that have departed, albeit early when we conceal the details behind such stories, which waters down their value to the living
—The greatest loss may not be death, but what dies inside us while we live.
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed people can change the world; indeed it is the only thing that ever has…Margaret Mead