The Only Place Where Doctors Don’t See Patients in Nigeria

The slim lady in dark shades walked into the eye clinic. Sat for more than ten minutes, waiting to be called or attended to by one of the clinic staff. But none came forth. She looked around her again. The place looked deserted, as though the workers have disappeared out of sight. No one was even at the small window designed to receive patients’ cards.

“Are there no doctors around?” she asked the man tall man wearing a red Polo t-shirt sitting some distance away on the long hard bench.

“I’ve been waiting here for more than fours to see the specialist. And I have to travel today; I have lectures. But all I’ve achieved since I arrived is sit here and not been attended to!” he said.

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“But why?” 

“They say they are having doctors meetings, hence I have to wait until they are all done.”

“But can’t at least a doctor be stationed to attend to our needs? Because we are so few here.” said the lady.

“The hospital actually gave me appointment to come today. I’m here now; still nobody has said anything to me.”

“I think I need to know what’s really going on.” The lady marched off into the tight office corridor hoping to see a staff. Fortunately, she saw three women: two of them wearing a green staff scrubs – the fatter of the two sitting on a desk and the shorter one standing with her back resting on the door frame with the third woman in mufti, slouched over her chair, was obviously a senior staff.  Seeing all three, the lady in shades directed at question to no one in particular, “Please is there no doctor I can see?”

“Is it an emergency?” asked the fatter one in green scrubs.

“It’s my eyes. They ache so badly.”

“Then the doctor cannot see you. Come on Monday.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Are you on appointment?”

“Eh..no. But my eye aches.”

“Remove your glasses.” said the woman in mufti. Lady takes off her dark shades.

“Your eye is not an emergency case.” she said.

“All through yesterday I suffered from serious pain and even now the right eye aches terribly.” Said the lady.

“Why didn’t you come yesterday when the pain was there?”

“I couldn’t even open my eyes then to see and I leave alone so nobody to take me to the hospital.”

“Anyway, the doctors cannot see you today because it is Friday. Doctors don’t see patients on Fridays.” The woman in mufti replied again. 

Just then the guy in red polo stopped by to listen-in on the discussion.

“Go and come back on Monday.” the shorter woman in green scrubs added.

“But why isn’t there any notice to that effect? I’m sure many of the patients sitting outside wouldn’t have bothered coming.” Lady in shades replied.

“They know! They are aware!” said the woman in mufti. Pointing at the man in Polo she said, “Even this man here is aware that Fridays are only appointment day! You’re the only one who doesn’t know. But now you know.”

“Madam, cool down naa.” Said the Polo guy.

“But I’m cool. I am not shouting.” Mofti replied.

“Yes you’re not shouting but your tone is harsh.”

Smiling and speaking, lady in shades said, “We are sick that is why we came. You think we would have come if we weren’t? So take it easy with us because your voice tone high small.”

“Ok.” Woman in mufti smiles and so did the two green women. 

Lady asks again, “Please do tell, is there a guideline that says because doctors must have their meetings on Fridays so they cannot attend to patients on Fridays?”

“Yes, there is a hospital guideline to that effect and so doctors really have no obligation to patients except on emergency. So you’ll have to come back on Monday.” Continued the woman in mufti.

“But my eyes ache a lot. And I didn’t see any notice pasted on your walls. If private hospitals were any good at what they do, do you think I’ll bother stepping into state hospitals that care less about patients?”

“Madam, there’s nothing that can be done. Fridays at not patients days, only Mondays and Thursdays. Wednesdays are strictly for surgeries and Fridays are for appointments only.”

Lady smiles back. “And were I your sister, in this condition, you will say the same thing?”

Woman in mufti smiles back. “Ok. I can see that the doctors are about to come out. You can wait oo. And if they tell you to come, then they will see you. There’s nothing I can do.”

Polo Man and Lady Shades walked out, talking animatedly, “Can you imagine her response?” asked the lady.

“Don’t mind them! All they know is go on strike and collect arrears for months they were on strike.” Polo man said.

“All these doctors are insensitive human beings!” said an urbane looking man. Polo and Shades both see a signboard, tagged: SERVICOM.

“What is the job of SERVICOM if not to ensure quality services in all sectors they are stationed?” Polo asked.

“Do you think if we call SERVICOM they will do anything?” asked Urbane.

“Those numbers are strictly for show, I’m sure it belongs to the same doctors working here.” said a matured woman in two wrappers.

“But you can’t be sure of that if you haven’t tried.” Lady Shades said.

“I’m telling you they don’t know their work.” Polo man said.

“It’s always good to be sure of your facts, you know. You’ve not tried but you’ve already concluded that they won’t do anything about our not being attended to.” said Lady Shades.

“Okay, I’m going to call them now! Let’s even see if this works!” said Polo man. He dialled the number on the well-worn signboard and placed the phone on speaker.

“Hallo?”

“Yeah...”

“Is that SERVICOM...”

“Go on...”

“Good day sir. I’ve been here at the Eye Clinic for over four hours and nobody has attended to me. 

And I have to travel today.”

“Really. That is not possible.”

“They say doctors do not attend to patients on Fridays.”

“Oh yes, that is true.”

“But I was given an appointment to come today! And many of us are here, yet to be attended to”

“Oh! Em...em...the thing is you have to understand that Fridays are non-patient days.”

“But we are ill. And this is FMC.”

“Yes, yes. Ok. We’ve heard your complaint.”

“I’m travelling today!”

“Ok. Eh... they will attend to you since you have appointment. But everyone will have to be patient.”

“Ok...” just as he was about to hang up, Shades Lady quickly whispered into his ears, “Tell him we want him to address the issue now.” Polo man says so immediately.

“Okay...”

Called dropped.

Shades looked at Polo and said, “Always make your case first. The more you keep telling them you are supposed to travel, the more they will feel not obligated to you. But if you keep emphasizing that you have be neglected despite an appointment, you have a case they can’t shy away from.”

Polo looked at her, wanted to say something but seemed to think the better of it.

Shades looked from Polo to Urbane and asked, “I wonder, didn't they teach them how to answer calls properly? Isn't that supposed to be a service centre?”

“Don’t mind them.” said Mr. Urbane, turned away and whispered something into the ears of the woman next to him. She wore a wedding and engagement rings on her third finger.

“You know he should have answered, ‘This is SERVICOM, how may I help you?’” said Shades.

“They do that so they can easily divert your call if they feel they can escape been irresponsible for not doing their job.” Urbane said.

“Noo. It’s because it is their personal numbers and not an official one!” said Polo Man. Everyone roared with laughter. And a certain quiet descended on the small crowd.

Few minutes later, a medium height man wearing a chequered open-necked shirt, a wrist watch slapped on his left wrist, stepped out of the office corridor into the waiting room where the patients sat. He was looking at his phone. Repeatedly he raised his head furtively over the faces around him then walked back in.

 A short man jolted from his chair, rambled towards the area where Polo Man, Mr. Urbane and Lady Shades sat, shouting “That must be the SERVICOM man!”

“Yes, I was saying so to myself.” Mr. Urbane said.

“You think.” asked Lady Shades.

“Can’t you see how he walked in and went back? He came to check who made the call!” said Short Man.

“Of course! I’m sure the numbers on SERVICOM belongs to the doctors!” Urbane said.

“I’m sure that is what they must have done. They must have switched the SERVICOM numbers to their own so no complaints from patients about them will get directly to SERVICOM.” Polo Man said.

“Yes. He is one of the chief doctors. E be like one of them. Na him!” Short Man added.

“But how can you be so such he is? Do you know him as a chief doctor?” queried Lady Shades.

“Yes I know him.” Short Man raised his eyebrows at Lady Shades.

“But you don’t know for sure if he was the one that picked up the call!” replied Lady Shades.

“Why else did you think he came out immediately after that call was made?” asked Urbane.

“It may have been just a coincidence. Maybe he’s checking all missed calls and messages from someone who may have been here waiting for him to come out of the meeting. You don’t know.” Lady Shades glared at Short Man.

“Eniways...” said Short Man as he ambled away, a smirk on his face.

“You see this is the problem with Nigeria! There are no systems in place!” said Polo Man.

“What other systems do you want in place in an FMC?” asked Lady Shades. “There is a gatehouse, departments, staff, registration and waiting rooms, pharmacy and payment centres in one place. What more system do you need?” asked Lady Shades.

“But nothing is working!” Polo Man said.

“It is not the system that is not working. It is the people manned in each of these system’s key areas that are not doing their job!” Shades replied.

“Look, I work in the private sector, so I know what I’m talking about.” said Polo.

“The medical private sectors all have this same systems and departments manned by humans too. The difference is that in the private sector is that no performance, no payment; no commitment to service, no returns on investments. Simple. And that makes them sit up.”

“You still don’t understand! This country has no system. Look at the case of the PVCs for the coming election. One person registered more than twenty times! If there was a system, then when A comes to register his name should pop up. But that is not the case.”

“The PVC multiple registration dilemma is a people-caused problem. If you as a staff is given a machine and you can tell that the interface with other machines is not functioning properly, do you sit and mop doing nothing waiting until there’s an election about to happen then jump up and announce there’s a problem at last minute? Or do you get up as soon as the problem pops up, have a meeting, proffer solutions at the meeting and get things done and working properly?" Shades asked waiting for Polo to respond. When he didn't reply she said, “Part of our problem in Nigeria is that the simple jobs we are given to do, we don’t do them. And especially in civil service, the attitude is worse. Many persons are not committed to doing their job professionally.”

“That is my point! It is why in the civil service the slogan is: Don’t carry government work on your head, carry it on your shoulders so that you can easily shrug it off.” Polo declared.

“Are you serious? Is that truly the mentality?” Lady Shades asked.

“Yes oo.”

“Unbelievable!”

A squat man wearing multicoloured African prints walked towards the patients and asked, “Please who called SERVICOM just now?” his accent distinctively Western Nigeria.

“I did. Please come with me.” Polo Man got up and went with him.

Lady looks about her at the other patients. Some of them smiled impishly. Then she looked at the short man who had insisted that the previous man had been the SERVICOM impostor and said, “Did I not tell you to be sure of what you say before you say them with emphasis.”

“But I was just telling you as I know naa.” Short Man replied.

“You didn’t know, so you shouldn't have spoken. Always get your facts right before you open your mouth to speak.” Shades said in clipped tone.

“Na Naija we dey oo. Leave that thing!” said Short Man.

Moments later, Mr. SERVICOM walked back to the waiting room and apologized to the patients explaining how this was a new development, promising that everyone will be attended to without exception.

Lady Shades looked at Urbane and the woman by his side and said, “How difficult was that? Communication is everything.” Urbane nodded in agreement.

A nurse walked up to the mouth of the door to the waiting room and announced, “Mr...so and so,” the nurse called out, “the doctor will see you now.” And off he went.

Lady sits on bench still nodding her head in disbelief.

Shortly thereafter, another nurse called Shades in to see the doctor. A dark beautiful matured nurse who spoke so kindly and persuasively about Fridays being only appointment days took her vitals.