Features
Hepatitis B wahala
When I first wrote this article, it was dedicated to the memory of Merari Alomele, a true legend. My first editor when I started this column almost a decade ago. There will never be another Alor – humour, wit, relevant information and many more all rolled into one being. Yet who can begrudge The Almighty, He knows best.
July 28 as always, was World Hepatitis Day, and this year’s theme was, “Finding the Missing Millions.” The goal is to create awareness of Hepatitis, find the undiagnosed and link them to care. I will however focus on Hepatitis B today.
These days it is common knowledge that a good way to make quick and easy money in “Sikaman” is to put fear in unsuspecting victims. Mushroom churches hyping witchcraft, herbalists and health professionals diagnosing doom at the least provocation, politicians painting opponents as the devil’s brigade and investment consultants in three-piece suits that will be the envy of Merari’s friend Kofi Kokotako, insisting that you will outlive your current savings unless…Life was much simpler in the “good old days”.
People are screening for Hepatitis B in churches, market places, train stations, fetish shrines and every imaginable and unimaginable place. The most criminal aspect of this is that there is NO PRIOR COUNSELING in many of these situations. Some people in white coats even take advantage of people who test positive for Hepatitis B (the surface antigen) and charge exorbitant fees to “treat” them.
Can you imagine what goes through the minds of people who may test positive at a screening with neither pre nor post test counseling and may have to wait for several hours or days before seeing a doctor? They often enter the consulting room with one foot in the new world. Some would have started a new fast without the element of prayer, a few will be competing with cholera patients for the use of the “small room” and others develop a penchant to pray in tongues that even the apostles at Pentecost would have been envious of.
I know we are not screening enough people at the hospitals but if you need to do any form of screening please ensure that you have people adequately trained to counsel participants before and after the tests. Such a simple thing will reduce the number of people who develop instant diarrhoea, sleeplessness, loss of appetite and generalised anxiety disorder long before their liver will even sense it has a problem.
Yes, Hepatitis B is common in “Sikaman” but not everyone is dying from it. Seek early medical advice and in most cases you will live long enough to enjoy fufu and palm nut soup for many many years to come.
An acute episode of Hepatitis B, like many viral infections may present as:
Loss of appetite
Nausea
Vomiting
Fatigue
Headache
Fever
These symptoms may be followed by jaundice, an abnormal accumulation of the chemical bilirubin in the blood, which causes yellowing of the eyes, skin and body fluids (such as tears), as well as a darkening of the urine.
This sounds almost like malaria, doesn’t it? So you may be harming your liver if you continue to take medication to treat malaria without seeking medical attention.
Your doctor will request for a few tests that will provide information on the stage of your infection and the state of your liver.
Many professionals will just prescribe:
Healthy lifestyle.
Avoid medications that have not been prescribed. Even popping paracetamol tablets at the least hint of pain could be dangerous. Avoid herbal preparations.
Avoid alcohol.
Get adequate rest.
A few may add a vitamin but that may simply be a matter of choice. Many people will be able to fight the virus and clear it from their system. A few others will not succeed on their own and may require further monitoring.
If there is a Hepatitis B, then there must be an A, C et cetera. RIGHT! We get Hepatitis A through the faeco-oral route which means; whenever you are diagnosed with Hepatitis A, you must have directly or indirectly eaten someone’s shit (pardon my language). Ensure you always wash your hands thoroughly with soap and water before eating and keep food and water appropriately.
We contract Hepatitis B and C through similar routes and these include:
Unprotected sexual activity.
Needle sharing (includes drug users).
Sharing of razors and toothbrushes.
Piercing or tattoos.
Transmission from infected mom to infant at time of delivery.
You protect yourself by avoiding the above and also being vaccinated against the virus. You can only be given the vaccine if you test negative for Hepatitis B surface antigen.
People with Hepatitis B, like those with HIV, COVID-19 and many other viral infections may look and feel perfectly well but as carriers, they can spread the infection.
Some good news here, you are unlikely to contract Hepatitis B infection from the following:
Hugging
Kissing
Sneezing
Coughing
Sharing food or drinks
Dear friend, to avoid or fight most viral infections, the drill remains the same, boost your immunity by:
Exercising often and appropriately.
Eating a balanced meal and drinking adequate amounts of water.
Getting rest.
And if a vaccine is available, get vaccinated.
AS ALWAYS LAUGH OFTEN, ENSURE HYGIENE, WALK AND PRAY EVERYDAY AND REMEMBER IT’S A PRICELESS GIFT TO KNOW YOUR NUMBERS (blood sugar, blood pressure, blood cholesterol, BMI)
Dr Kojo Cobba Essel
Health Essentials Ltd/Mobissel/St. Andrews Clinic
(www.healthessentialsgh.com)
*Dr Essel is a Medical Doctor, holds an MBA and is ISSA certified in exercise therapy, fitness nutrition and corrective exercise.
Thought for the week – “290 million people worldwide are living with viral Hepatitis unaware.” Let us raise awareness so that many more can be tested and receive the necessary care.
References:
Sikaman Palava – The Writings Of Merari Alomele
Primed Patient Education Center – Harvard Medical School
Features
Just in time part 3
Esaaba went to her room, closed the door and sat on the bed. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she took her decision. If she was going to have her peace of mind and get along with her parents and sister, the only way was to find a place to rent and live on her own.
She picked up her phone to talk to an estate agent when her door opened gently, and her parents walked in, Esaaba following. ‘Esaaba’, her dad began, ‘we are sorry for what has happened. We are very sorry. But I wish you would understand that as your parents, we mean well.
We want a good future for you. Naturally we are concerned that you have been, er, a little late in settling down with a man. That is why we took the steps we did. We will continue to pray for a solution. In fact, it is possible that Stanley will realise what he’s missing and get in touch again’. ‘Dad, I’m not going to discuss this issue with you again. It is quite obvious that you don’t agree that it is my right, as a right thinking adult, to make my own choices. So I am going to rent a place as quickly as possible and move out.
If I don’t, we will continue to argue over this issue. I’m not prepared to allow anyone, even my parents, to choose a husband for me. And as for you Baaba, let me warn you, never get involved again in any issue concerning me, because apart from being very simple minded, you need to learn a few things in life.
Don’t assume anything’. ‘What do I care?’ Baaba snapped. What do I need from you?’ ‘Get out of my room!’ she shouted. Beesiwa walked out, followed by their parents.
Esaaba decided that she needed space to clear her head. She went to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her hair and, after checking to make sure that she had her copy of the front door key, went out. The only place she could think of, she thought, was Jackie’s, the open air joint.
It was never too full, and they played mostly soft music. And the food was nice. It was just what she needed to clear her head. She decided against a taxi and strolled down, and took a seat.
She sat down, and as the waiter walked up to take her order she saw Marian Mensah sipping a drink. ‘Hey Marian! Where on earth have you been?’ ‘Look who is asking questions. I have been trying to find you for ages. Where have you been?’ ‘I live some two hundred metres from here. And you know I’m a TA on campus’. ‘I didn’t know that. And guess who has been asking for your number, almost desperately?’ The only person I can think of is David Essel, and apart from the fact that he’s not in Ghana, I don’t think he will want to call me’.
‘Well, it’s him alright. He came back a month ago. He called last week, and said he heard you had gone to do a Master’s programme on a university scholarship, and he also heard you were working with a drug company. But he obviously didn’t know you were on campus, because he would have fished you out a long time ago’.
‘Why, is he doing anything on campus?’ ‘Yes, he’s just got a job as lecturer at the Statistics Department’. When he called and said he wanted to contact you, I teased him that you hadn’t changed, that perhaps you were the same difficult person you were, and he replied that perhaps you had changed’.
‘Do you know what? I really liked the guy, but maybe I didn’t know him well because of the three year gap. Perhaps if he had taken a little time I would have agreed. He is quite good looking, always looking neat, and he had a great sense of humour. And you know, I was afraid of the girls who were always hovering around him. Do you have his number?’ Marian called him, and within twenty minutes David had joined them at Jackie’s. ‘Good to see you ladies. ‘Esaaba, it’s been ages. I thought I would never find you’. ‘Listen, you two’, Marian said, I’m sure it would be best for you if I vanished from here. So off I go. Call and let’s meet, this weekend if possible’.
They ordered food and drinks, and chatted for quite a while about their activities since they last met. David went to Denmark on a PhD scholarship from a food processing company that is well represented in West Africa.
He also spent some time working in the company’s research Department, for which he was paid rather well. Esaaba, on her part, told him about her experiences as a National Service person and Teaching Assistant at her department.
She was hoping to start a Masters Degree programme at the Department, but was also exploring the possibility of getting a university scholarship to study abroad. ‘David, I don’t mind hanging around a little longer because I live close by, but in your case you will be driving for a while, so if you like, we can meet again in the next few days’.
‘Okay, my car is parked over there. But first give me your number. Can we meet in the next couple of days?’ ‘We certainly can. I will be moving from my parents’ place very soon, maybe in the next few days, so I will tell you my location when you call’.
‘Why are you moving from your parents’ place, if I may ask? Something interesting happening?’ ‘How shall I say it? My parents think I am delaying in getting a husband, so they have been putting pressure on me to get married.
In fact they tried to force a guy on me, and it backfired’. ‘O dear. I was about to ask you a question on this topic
By Ekow de Heer
Features
Leakages and academic dysentery
Student life just prior to GCE exams is as interesting and adventurous as it is tragic. It is a period during which recalcitrant finalists are tempted to break into backyard poultry outfits of senior house-masters, so that they can enjoy chicken-soup while “ghosting.”
And in mixed schools, it is during this revision period that boys and girls alternate studies with romance in such a way that at the beginning of the long vacation, the girls can clandestinely approach unscrupulous doctors to scoop out growing babies from their bellies.
A few weeks to the beginning of the first paper, many students develop physical and imaginary illnesses ranging from amnesia to kpokpomatics (nervousness). The budding finalist who is serious and level-headed plans his study time-table and allots time for bath, meals, siesta and snoring.
Such candidates follow their own regimented programme to the letter and enjoy normal life while studying for their exams. They are health-conscious, do not take drugs and they enjoy rest to avoid brain fag.
There are other serious students, however, who are not concerned about health. They are so busy, or claim to be, that they refuse to take their bath, comb their hair, wash their hands before eating and sometimes, simply refuse to go to “toilet”. This is quite revolutionary and I wonder how they manage it. But that is not all.
They take ‘caterpillar’ to keep awake, fail to wash their cover-cloths, and have air conditioners permanently installed in their armpits. These are students who are on the war-path towards academic distinction but ironically very few of them do well.
Some are so over-zealous that they pack and carry books for all their eight or so subjects to the classroom swearing to ‘chew’ all before day-break. They end up learning virtually nothing because they prefer the rhythmic snoring using their books as pillow to cramming Abbot.
The following morning, they will be the first to impress their colleagues: “I swear my father’s moustache that last night I did what Napoleon could not do.” For sure, Napoleon did not sleep that much. Ninety per cent of such students end up in the academic grave with grade 9s, subsidiary passes and FAIL as their lot.
Incidentally, however, those category of students are more acceptable to organised society than the happy-go-lucky ones who regard academic excellence as sacrilegious and, therefore, include discoing, wee-smoking, chasing form-two girls and stealing gari from frail chop boxes in their study programme.
These are the students who are so intellectually deviant that they keep on praying papers should leak so that they can prove to their ‘book-long’ fellows they are a force to reckon with.
A month to exams they go hovering about West African Examinations Council (WAEC), forcing tete-a-tete with crooked officials some of whose faces look hungry enough to accept money in exchange for exam papers.
Others trot from school to school contacting friends of similar feather to obtain information about possible leakage points. The girls become unusually liberal to the Assistant Headmaster who may, as a reciprocal gesture, be tempted to ‘peep’ two or three Maths questions from one paper to offer as sure tips after carefully changing the wording. These assistant heads, therefore, become alphabetical surgeons; a very infamous occupation.
In the 70s, the incidence of leakages and exam malpractices became so rampant among the WAEC countries that Nigeria swore to rid its territory of the epidemic.
They did succeed. Sikaman authorities also swore same, and for some time, ears became free from news about leakages, impostors and ‘copiato’ (copying during exams).
But just as we had begun the last decade of the 20th Century, the plague re-surfaced and today some students and their allies are under lock and key for the part they played in this scholastic uprising.
Papers leak right from WAEC strong rooms, police stations and assistant headmasters’ vaults.
When papers for instance go into transit at the police station for onward transmission to the exam centres, surgical operations are performed on the sacks and the papers extracted and put on sale on the open market.
Sometime ago, the situation degenerated so much that Makola women were seen hawking. Additional Mathematics papers just like tomatoes and garden-eggs.
One interesting but unfortunate thing about leakages is that it does no one ultimate good. To a brilliant student, a leaked paper in his possession makes him unable to justify his intellectual capacity and his scholastic worth is over-shadowed.
To the brainless, it is simply a disaster. He has no brains whatsoever to imbibe solution to the answers. He has to choose the alternative of entering the exam room with copied answers. And there, he becomes a copy-writer and proof-reader. Speed is his best asset, but he is most likely to be caught.
One block-headed student who acquired a leaked paper was faced with the problem of choosing between ‘chewing’ the answers (which was virtually impossible in view of his deficient IQ), and turning himself into a speed copy-writer. He however decided to do neither of these.
In the exam room he considered his plight. All his friends and enemies were also in possession of the paper and had prepared so well that they were going to clock beautiful grades. And he, the only JUDAS in the lot will surely wind up with a grade 9. What!! God forbid!
On the answer sheet he wrote a very brilliant letter to the examiner in clear hand-writing and similar to this:
“Dear Sir, this very paper you are marking is under massive leakage, and I know that people are going to blow it paa-a! But as for me, although I also had all the questions, I am as daft as a live sheep. My father had no brains in his big head. As for my mother, the least said about her, the better. And as you know that a dog does not beget a cat, I was born an idiot.”
“So when I got the questions, I didn’t know what to do with them. Will you please therefore consider me and pass me too. Otherwise, I alone will die of academic dysentery. Thanks for your usual cooperation. Yours faithfully…”
The paper was cancelled, and students had to suffer the expense of re-registration and frustration, not forgetting the loss of time.
The only solution to this grave problem of exam leakages and allied criminal offences is that the law must prescribe stiffer punishments for those who perpetrate and or collaborate to further these criminal practices.
Those convicted of these offences must be packed away for as long as would be possible to make them forget about exam papers. Such a deterrent measure would help minimize the problem. Proper security arrangements must be organized by authorities of WAEC to rid Sikaman of this recurrent menace.
We must all endeavour to prevent the situation where outsiders will feel inclined to refuse recognising our dear certificates which many have toiled for, but which a dangerous few want to obtain without sweat.
This article was first published on Saturday, June 30, 1990.