The Publisher on a visit to the world-famous Federal Neuro-Psychiatric Hospital, Yaba a.k.a Yaba Left met an outpatient who had once been an inpatient of the medical institution.

He shared his story on his two months stay there and how a typical day as an inpatient was like.

My assumed name is Yemi Pearse. I am from Ondo State but was born and bred in Lagos. I am the last born and have three siblings.

I have little memories of my father as he passed away in a fatal motor accident when I was barely four years old. My mum was all I had and we dotted on each other as I was clearly her favourite child.

My dream was to become a medical doctor as my mum told me my dad may have lived if medical help had come earlier. Also, some hospitals rejected him as they presumed him to be a fleeing armed robber and first wanted a police report before treating him. All these made me a very compassionate person and made me drawn to the medical profession as I saw saving lives as my life’s calling.

I attended the prestigious Federal Government College Lagos, Ijanikin for my secondary or high school education and was an above average student but I excelled in biology and chemistry.

My nightmare started with getting an admission to study medicine. I stayed at home for four years and rejected two admissions to study microbiology and physiotherapy because I was hellbent on doing medicine.

My mum – my rock was always by my side to reassure me even when the world turned its back on me. She was a struggling civil servant and I had other siblings otherwise she may have sent me abroad to study as was fashionable among the Nigerian elite and strangulated middle class.

Heeding to my mum’s advice I settled for biochemistry after a five year stay at home. I was at a loss on what to do with the course but I was sick and tired of wasting away doing nothing and so I took it.

In my third year, my whole world crumbled when I got the news that my beloved mum passed on in her sleep without any signs of being ill.

I couldn’t cope with the pain and I fell into deep depression and woke up to find myself in Yaba Left. How did I get here I screamed? I had always associated the place with junkies and never do wells and I had never even smoked a cigarette so how on earth did I end up in this evil place?

I recall shouting that I wanted to see my mother and constituting nuisance as well as attacking some of my fellow patients. The nurse on duty simply called the crisis intervention team and I was beaten as well as given an injection which made me sleep off.

I remember a session with a doctor and psychologist and it usually started with the question: ‘Where are you now?’ and then a follow up question: ‘What brought you here?’

I remember answering that I was in Yaba Left but that I really didn’t know why I was brought here and I was wondering why my mum hadn’t yet come to visit me.

One of the social workers engaged me in a pep talk that my mum had passed away which was the reason why she hadn’t visited me. She counselled that I had to adapt to the new reality and learn to live with the grief. I burst into tears and cursed God loudly which made her call the crisis intervention team who beat me till I fell unconscious.

I recall the occupational therapy classes where we were ‘taught’ different skills like sewing, learning how to use the computer, barbing of hair etc. It was time wasting as we were too many with the learning facilities being grossly overstretched. I never learnt anything as I simply sat down in despair as I had yet to come to the reality of my being a patient there. I was even told that the OT in Yaba Left was the best among all the Nigerian psychiatric hospitals. Really I exclaimed! Why are we so mediocre in this part of the world?

I recall a health talk where a psychiatrist had this to say ‘This illness is not a joke. If your parents or guardians crossed the gate from the right side of Yaba and brought you to Yaba Left then you have to brace up to the reality of being on these medications for the rest of your lives.’ That made my spine shudder as I generally hated drugs and even preferred injections. To be subjected to this torture for life? God is indeed wicked!

The food was horrible especially the swallows and its terrible soups not even fit for wild animals. My siblings hardly visited and so I felt very lonely and unloved.

On Saturdays, a Catholic and Protestant Group used to come to evangelize and hold prayer meetings. I joined the Protestant as I slowly began to accept the fact that my mum had passed on and wouldn’t be coming back; I needed a strong anchor to help me weather the storms. I gave my life to Christ one day and I felt better.

I was discharged and was told to be checking back from time to time for my medical appointment. I deferred my admission by a session and finally graduated.

I am now a Lagos State Civil Servant and I am living each day at a time. I am active in church and finally found love after being rejected many times because of my mental health challenge. I will be tying the knots anytime from now.

Looking back retrospectively especially at my stay in Yaba Left, I am grateful to God for what I have become; I may not have achieved much materially but I am contented for the little mercies and graces he bestowed on me.

I look forward to a brighter future.

SOURCE: https://africavoiceshq.com/2022/04/22/a-day-in-yaba-left-by-tony-ademiluyi/

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