Six Years a Medical Student Part 4 by Dr Wilson Orhiunu

After the great excitement of the Pharmacology year it was time to cross over to the Pathology year of 1984/85 session. While people from all other faculties went home for the holidays our class stayed back for the ‘clinical postings’. Campus was empty and one felt like one robbed of something precious or perhaps cheated. I imagined friends in Lagos visiting each other, listening to music and eating ice cream while we walked to the teaching hospital in our white coats. It hit me particularly hard as I always moved with my group of friends who were not medical students.

It was tough at home. My dad has been suffering from Glaucoma for a while and his vision was deteriorating. As vision went so did his ability to earn a livelihood. The first six months in 1984 had been spent in the UK undergoing surgery on both eyes which did not help. My mum had become the sole bread winner and had left him in the UK with my Uncle Peter before returning to work in Lagos. As would be expected money was tight. There were contradictions in my life. I was not one to shrink into myself and was considered among the ajebuta boys from Lagos. A senior sister and brother both studying in the US further cemented the image that all was well but there was no TV at home and the settee had its inner bowels herniating through the torn upholstery fabric. It was a strange kind of affluent poverty that confused the mind. A middle-class mind but lower working class finance.

Being Mr Kave was a big deal then as I got recognised by many people. Everyone thought I was a ladies’ man but I was a still a Virgin and somewhat embarrassed about this especially when teased by friends.

(Wilson neva blend bifor was how the yabbis went).

The boys in class bonded and became brothers. Some of the friendships formed have lasted many years. The clinical postings involved learning how to take a medical history from patients on the ward and attending clinics in a form of an apprentiship. The ‘chief’ might ask you a question from time to time but nothing great was expected from you at this stage.

The evenings were a bit boring at times and I decided to learn the ‘windmill’ which was a difficult brake dance move to master. I started going upstairs at the main cafeteria where there was a large judo mat and practiced to Ollie and Jerry’s Breakin’ There’s no stopping us

I was there every day till I could spin like a top on the mat. A bit obsessive but it helped dispel energy. Some in class turned to running to burning away that restless youthful energy. We had a Physiology teacher, Prof DP Phothiades who used to amaze me with his long distance running around campus. Privately I thought he was a mad oyinbo man. He was a role model of sorts. Many in class played football and lawn tennis. A few of us frequented the sports complex swimming pool where we had the time of our lives.

The arrival of the French students who had camped in Hall 1 prior to travelling to Togo for their practical language sessions brought a welcomed distraction. They were a predominantly female class and had a few send -off parties if my memory serves me right.

The re sit students were soon with us and life became more tolerable. Soon the classes in Pathology started. The study of diseases and their causes is foundational to the training of Doctors. The textbook of choice was the Muir’s Textbook of Pathology. A big impressive book that afforded one ‘med cred’ when placed on the table in the common room prior to reading (or posing). Bacteriology, Virology and Parasitology lectures were interesting and also personally instructive to me. I knew for sure that I would never be a pathologist. We attended a life changing post mortem that had some in class running out close to vomiting. It was a patient that had been dead for a long while and most of us had never smelt the like before. The Pathologist kept on his commentary as he did his work unmoved by the stench.

Pathology was everywhere. Glaucoma at the family home ending my dad’s career and heartache for me as a relationship ended. Tina Turner’s What’s love Got to do with it (No 3 . UK Charts August 1984) had a line, who needs a heart when a heart could be broken?

It sounds good when you are singing the lyric but at the end of the song the heart remains where it was before; broken.

My friends and I had planned our action for the year. Wilson for socials!

I was to run for the Student Union Social Secretary position and of course I would win. All my prize money from the Mr. Kave contest had been saved for this. I was shaking hands all day and they is not one room I did not enter in Hall 1,2,3 and 4.

I had contested for Hall 4 Social Secretary and lost in 1981 and had been on the successful campaign team for Ashigbogu for Socials in 1983 and went on to  the Student Union Senate and the medical union (Ubemsa) senate in the same year so I knew the drill.

Manifesto night had me sweating all week and when the day came to face my fellow students at the Sports complex I was crippled with fear as I screamed the rallying cry of ‘Great Uniben!!!!!’

I lied about foreign artistes queuing up to come and perform for the great students of Uniben etc. etc. etc.

Voting night was like the Second MB result night all over again. Friends were waiting to see if I won, lost or lost my deposit. I was extremely nervous and visited a classmate Ifueko who asked how I was feeling. I heard a song in the distance and it was ‘Mickey for socials!’ they were chanting.

‘I don lose’

‘How do you know?’

‘They are singing’.

At least I didn’t lose my deposit as the margins of victory were not big. It was a lonely walk back to my room.

Soon it was Mr. Kave night. I attended and enjoyed the attention as I was still the first and only Mr. Uniben in the packed Main Auditorium.  A potential date had refused to come with me and I felt alone. Dele won and I was called upon to crown him. As soon as I put the crown on his head, I ceased to exist and his jubilating crew almost knocked me out of the way.

When your time is up, it is up. It was a long lonely walk back to my room that night. This was a pathological academic year.

The routine was soon back to classes, reading, dancing and even more classes on a campus that had become my heartbreak hotel.

Epilogue

Following a ‘student uprising’, the whole Student Union Executive was suspended and I was glad I lost the ‘Wilson for Socials’ election.

 

Links to The Official Reunion Pictures. (D1 /D2/ D3 ) of MBBS'87 Uniben

D1

Thursday 28/09/2017.

Meeting and greet - Evening

https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0BxAAiMThvGtxd0dXYjZvUzdBWEE

D2

Friday 29/09/2017

Academic session - Morning

https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0BxAAiMThvGtxdGpwYkFiOGhMZm8

D3

Saturday 30/09/2017

Gala Night Photographs

 https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0BxAAiMThvGtxbGFzbDE3dFJuNWc

Six Years a Medical student Part 3 by Dr Wilson Orhiunu

By September 1983 we felt euphoric. We had crossed the Red Sea and were drinking Red Red Wine in the land of promise that also flowed with milk and honey for the non-drinkers. Having passed the second MB exams and the biochemistry re-sit, my name was now written in indelible ink on that roll call of medical students. The prevailing wisdom was that unless one did something crazy like murder or steals a lecturer’s wife, one was guaranteed to graduate as a doctor.

We were intoxicated with different things in that class. Some with the success of crossing over; others with youth, strength and beauty. Of course, some were “all of the above”. UB40 were Number 1 in the UK and it was all about the ‘Red Red Wine’. Life was sweet. By November Prof Lionel Richie was urging us to “throw away the work to be done Let the music play on”.

All night long was how Ugbowo campus rolled. The song at Number 10 on the UK charts was a metaphor for life in our campus ecosystem. Young, strong and gifted, you did it all night long. Actions depended on your affiliations. The sea dogs sailed, the palm wine drinkers gyrated and the buccaneers sailed with a crazy rallying cry; let the devil that leads you guide you!!! Haba!! Imagine passing JAMB only to end up being led by the devil! Then there were the other confraternities, Eiye, Black Axe and Maphite who all moved at night. The “daytime” clubs were the Skomit Club who held the Miss Skomit Beauty contest and they were prim and proper people. Klova Club, Lions (Leo Club) and the Rotary club also existed

Members of the Christian Union prayed for all our souls. It was all night long for everyone.

There was a group for everyone, sport teams, board game players, and various tribal groups collectively called Parapo.

Faculties had societies whose aim appeared to be the organisation of parties and meetings. Those who loved politics went to the Student Union Senate either representing their halls of residence or contesting for a seat in their faculties.

I tried my best to throw away the work to be done but a heavy textbook and a weak right arm meant I did not throw the work far enough. G & G, as we affectionately called our main text for the year, was always within eyeshot. Goodman & Gilman’s The Pharmacological basis of therapeutics was the main compass in this year’s voyage through the Sea of Pharmacology. Having watched from afar the stereotypical images of doctors and nurses giving tablets and injections, it was now time to get up close and personal with drugs. Impressive sounding words like Pharmacokinetics and Pharmacodynamics gave one a certain air of superiority when talking among ourselves albeit loud enough for eavesdroppers to hear and marvel.

I belonged to my own corner of the ecosystem; the dancers. We formed a group and got on with keeping fit and practicing. For the first time, I began to notice the power of dance on the observers. I had classmates who played football; games lasting 90 minutes with a 15-minute break in between each half. We all watched them and patted them on the back. When it came to the dancers who usually danced to songs lasting no more than 10 minutes in a single performance, you got applauded but some felt you were not serious with your studies. Dance has a way of living on in people’s minds long after the dancer has forgotten the steps. The illusion is that the dancer is permanently dancing.

Pharmacology introduced us to the blood-brain barrier. Most terms studied in class usually made its way into our daily conversations in the hostel. Alcohol, that drug that needed a large quantity to bring about a physiological effect was talked about a lot. In addition for the guys, girls went through the blood-brain barrier with relative ease. We were permanently falling in or falling out of love, a most intoxicating period.

If Ugbowo campus was Onitsha, then every Saturday night was an Ofala festival. The one hosting the hottest party would be the Obi and crowds would gather at the front of Hall One to be transported to the makeshift palace where the night long festivities would occur. My friends and I pulled resources and threw a party where we paraded as Ndichies (red-cap chiefs) while our girlfriends were the Ikporo Ogbe association (wives in the king’s clan)

So intoxicated was I that I tossed off my red cap and ascended the stool reserved for the Igwe at that party. Booze, love, youth, who knows what moved me.

I served in the Student Union Senate in the 1983-84 session (so says my certificate; I don’t remember too much about it).

The second of December 1983 saw the release of the Michael Jackson video ‘Thriller’. It was on the NTA news and Vincent rang like crazy to call us to watch it. We were all blown away. By December we went home for Christmas with ‘Thriller’ on our minds

It’s close to midnight, something evil’s lurking in the dark

By the 31-12-83 there was Change as Major General Muhammadu Buhari braved the harmattan to stage a coup. Gone was our Alhaji Shehu Shagari. The New Year continued where the last one stopped. Culture Club was No 7 in the US charts in January 1984 with the ‘Karma Chameleon’ tune that had the line

Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon

You come and go, you come and go

Which mirrored our soja come soja go government.

The mood soared in February when we danced to Madonna’s ‘Holiday’ with its infectious intro and addictive bass line. Everyone’s top was plastered to the skin due to sweat at parties and a table fan was stationed over the stereo’s amplifier to avoid overheating. The DJs used cassette tapes. No CDs or MP3s.

I read my G&G and life was sweet. We experimented with a certain cat in the lab. Injecting drugs into it and checking its heart rate. It died in the end, foaming at the mouth. Can’t shake that image.

Dance practice was in the evenings while we learnt about drugs all day. Someone tipped us that the Klova Club was to stage a male beauty pageant to rival the Miss Skomit contest and the first prize was to be a brand new car (The usual prize in Uniben at the time for pageants). My group of friends started planning where they would seat in the car. I would drive and my girlfriend would sit up front.

I soon heard the sponsor with the car had pulled out. I went on to contest despite little real faith among friends that I would win although Mary Onochie said that I would. I won and became the first ever Mr. Uniben much to the displeasure of the Black Axe and Eiye confraboys in the audience who had some of their members contesting. A mini-riot with flying bottles of beer broke out and I was smuggled out of the main auditorium.

I made the NTA network news which was a big deal at the time. Fame was the new red red wine.

Dance practice continued till we performed our own version of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ at the Miss Skomit 1984 beauty contest which was well received.

I continued hanging out with my G & G till I passed my Pharmacology exams. This year was one long Made in Onitsha Ofala festival full of drugs that crossed the blood-brain barrier at will. Love, beauty, youth, strength, good fortune, intelligence, good education and God’s mercies were all in abundance.

Chidinma

(God is God)

Doctors and technology An address by Professor F A Orhewere via a video message on 28/9/17

Doctors and technology

An address by Professor F A Orhewere

to the Class of 1987 Medical Graduates of the University of Benin

September 2017

It is my pleasure to use this opportunity to express greetings to the Class of 1987 medical graduates of the University of Benin, on this occasion of this reunion. 

It is thirty years since the wonderful exhilarating experience of that graduation ceremony, after five or more years of toil.  For some it was pure joy, for others profound relief.  Today, and this weekend, I hope all of you, including my daughter Mary, will recall with nostalgia your memories of yester-years.

Your training period overlapped the time when I, as a University Teacher and practising surgeon, ventured into the heart of university administration first as Dean of the School of Medicine from 1981 to 1985 and later as Deputy Vice-Chancellor from 1986 to 1988. Alongside these roles, I maintained the pleasure of teaching students and the satisfaction of clinical orthopaedic practice.  Notwithstanding this incursion into administration, I trust your exposure to all specialties of medicine, and to orthopaedics in particular, was significant, encouraging and fruitful.   I congratulate all of you in your various specialties and wish you success in your chosen fields.  I am delighted to hear that some of you have chosen the honourable specialty of Orthopaedics. 

As your former teacher and one-time career adviser, I feel obliged to use this opportunity to talk to you about potential redundancy. I must warn you that whatever your specialty of practice, there is looming on the horizon a danger to the profession of which we must be aware: it is complacency. 

Technology has significantly invaded our lives and medical practice, for example, in pathology and other specialities.  A host of appropriate questions and patient information fed into a computer can lead to reasonably accurate diagnoses and recommended line of treatment including drugs.  At present, where surgery is required, technology has not yet bypassed the surgeon though it can be a valued surgeon’s assistant. 

Therefore, it behoves medical doctors to embrace technology for the good of their patients and to maintain their clinical relevance and uphold their professional dignity.  It would be complacent of doctors not to embrace technology for good. This will be different according to your circumstances.

But back to today and this weekend. 

Your shared experience of medical school and your individual journeys in the intervening years have brought you to today.  Thanks to modern technology (and your hard work), this is your weekend.  Enjoy yourselves, and reminisce a while.  Reignite old friendships and establish new ones.

I wish you a happy reunion. 

God bless you all. 

Brief Biography

Professor F A Orhewere

In a career spanning 50 years, Professor Felix A Orhewere held various appointments including Senior Consultant at the National Orthopaedic Hospital, Igbobi, and Pinderfield Hospital, Wakefield, Field Lt Colonel Nigerian Army Medical Corps, Professor of Orthopaedics at the University of Benin, and Chief Consultant for Sokoto, Kebbi & Zamfara States, University of Abuja Teaching Hospital, and the National Hospital Abuja. 

Born to Anglican Missionary parents of Ora, Edo State, Professor Orhewere attended Government College Ibadan and, in 1948, was one of the foundation students of University College Ibadan.  Consequently, he was one of the first batch of students sent in 1951 to the United Kingdom to complete his medical studies where he graduated from Guys Hospital Medical School, University of London in 1955.  He became a Fellow of Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh (FRCS Ed) in 1962 and Master of Orthopaedics (M Ch Orth, Liverpool) in 1963.  He retired from orthopaedic practice and teaching in 2005.  He enjoys music, photography and travelling.  

Six Years a Medical Student. Part 2 by Dr Wilson Orhiunu

In September 1982 on reporting back to Campus after the summer holidays one got that – butterflies in the stomach-feeling that top-flight soccer players get in World Cup years. There was a prevailing tension in the air that could be cut with a knife. Any misplaced tackle could terminate any chances of making a mark on the biggest stage of all.

As would be expected from a youth full of promise I broke my right humerus in a silly duel of armed wrestling. Being right handed things did not look good. I could barely lift that huge biochemistry textbook talk less of reading its contents that included the unpalatable Kreb’s cycle. Faced with anatomy, physiology and biochemistry I took the battle to them one handed. God smiled on me and I only failed Biochemistry. The result night for the second MB examination was like Oscar night in Hollywood. I told ‘so called’ friends about the disappointment I had in failing Biochemistry and was later to discover that I had been widely tipped to fail the three subjects and have my name erased from the medical student’s list.

They had all believed the lie that academic attainment was inversely proportional to the ability to dance, irrespective of how much time you spent reading or how well you accumulated the facts.

Being one handed for a spell this important year slowed me down socially. I had just two shirts that fitted as my Plaster cast was extra- large and wouldn’t slip into any of my other shirts. When one becomes handicapped, other senses become heightened. I could not do any dissections so I was delegated to the group that read the dissection manual out loud while abled bodied students dissected away at the cadaver who for some strange reason had bullet holes. That was a forced position of learning.

Then Third World came to Campus for the best show ever. While dancing on a chair I lost my balance and I feared I might fall off and break the other humerus but regained my balance just in time. The group was on tour and on their return journey they were back for an encore which was more enjoyable that the first show. The gate fee was ten Naira and it was a packed house. That song – Now that we’ve found love -which had peaked at Number Ten on the UK charts in October 1978 drove the audience delirious with delight. All the work to be done was forgotten as were the hungry mosquitoes waiting for our return to the hostel. Those anopheles’ nasty girls who suck blood painfully with blunt proboscis and insult by gloating about their meal all night in their dinner provider’s ear.

Some of our past leaders in Nigeria must have been members of the Third World for they too sang- Now that we’ve found crude what are we gonna do with it? Well, the answer is the same both for love and crude oil. If you have no plan before good fortune strikes, you waste the opportunity.

Dancing on the floor was a tune that had us in ecstasy. It has peaked at Number 13 in 1981 so was a fresher jam with opportunities for the bad to show off fancy guitar playing and soothing harmonies. The song 96 degrees in the shade was so emotional, and that bass line made you forget all your ‘issues from childhood’. It was a good thing I didn’t pay too much attention to the song’s lyrics. A song about death by hanging and we were dancing! The song that brought the roof down was Try Jah Love. We hummed it all the way to our beds and mosquitoes that night. If you huger, I will feed you with my love….

We all loved food and could relate.

I went everywhere weighed down by the Second MB fever, heavy books and a right arm cast. It was a fever with just one cure; exam success.

At one of my fracture clinic appointments my X-ray was put up by Professor Orhewere our teacher and orthopaedic Surgeon and he began to grill his students about the complications of Humeral fractures. I instantly experienced how patients feel when their cases are discussed to their hearing in impeccable English. I felt like one being punished for one’s sins. By the time they had gone through all manners of mal-unions, non-unions and perhaps student unions I was sweating. Radial nerve injury and a claw hand brought temporary urinary incontinence to me. Imagine breaking a bone and its sharp edge tears through a nerve and paralyses a hand. How would I hold my partner in the blues (slow) dance after the up- tempo beats had finished and the lights had been dimmed?

The fracture soon healed up and I could wear my shirts. My right elbow was frozen at 90 degrees and it was back to UBTH for physiotherapy. Strange hairs and scales had grown on the arm and forearm and all the muscle bulges were gone. This was the least adventurous period of my student life and it brought focus. It is almost impossible to fracture a bone and not get good with bone and muscle anatomy. Perhaps the fracture was divine. Are all things not divinely designed? Apart from my physical limitations bringing focus, a close friend with an I go die attitude to jacking (excessively studious) helped to bring me back to the reasons for which we were on campus. Hang around the ‘jackers’ and you become a ‘jacker’, a Hyper-jacker or even an intergalactic one.

 The notes I couldn’t take in class were loaned to me and I had a study partners who helped me along the way.

By June 1983 every breath I took and every move I made was for the Second MB examination. I saw that success could belong to me. Surprise- surprise, the Police were Stinging at Number 1 in the UK charts with Every breath you take.

The exams came and went with me passing Anatomy and Physiology. I passed the Biochemistry re-sit a few months later and the summer holiday was sweet.

Glossary of terms

Jacking – Reading

Hyper jacking – Moderately strenuous efforts in reading

Intergalactic jacking- Excessive reading that would put the stamina of Martians to the test.