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  • What does failure mean to people, and how do they handle it? Zikoko seeks to understand this by telling the stories of everyday Nigerians and their experiences with failure in different aspects of life. This is a limited weekly series.

    I was looking to speak with people with a history of academic brilliance who have, at one point or another, faced failure in school when I found Ini’s tweet.

    In this story, he talks about failing for the first time in his life in medical school, spending 12 years in university and why he’s no longer scared of his future.

    As told to Boluwatife

    Image credit: Ini Amah/X

    I was a smart kid growing up.

    The first time I got the first position in school was in Primary 1. I was a well-known menace in my class of 20-30 students, and my name was always on the noisemakers’ list. But even with all those distractions, I still got the first position. That was when my intelligence first dawned on me, and I became cocky.

    After that, I regularly got the first position, and I took it for granted that I’d always come first. I expected it, and my parents expected it, too. The only subject I wasn’t great in was Mathematics, much to my mum’s dismay. She’s a teacher and was particular about my performance in maths.

    I came first all through primary school, but my maths skills didn’t improve until Primary 5. I figured it’d make my mum happy, so I paid more attention to the subject. I studied more, and fortunately, a cousin came to stay with us around that time. He was good at maths, and he tutored me and helped with my assignments. He played a vital role in my improvement.

    My first position streak ended in primary school. I attended a federal government college, and there was more competition. My first result placed me second out of about 70 students, and I thought I’d failed. I remember sulking about it when another classmate found me. He asked why I was frowning, and I said, “Because I don’t like my result.” The guy just started laughing. His own position was 20-something. What did I expect him to do if I came second and still felt bad about it?

    Still, I resolved to land the first position, so I studied more than ever. I read into the night with candles — literally burned the midnight candle — but it never happened all through secondary school. I always came between the second and fourth. There was always someone better.

    However, mathematics gave me a chance to shine. I got even better at it in secondary school. In JSS 3, I became one of the two students selected from my school to compete in Cowbell’s Secondary School Mathematics Competition (Junior category) in 2007/2008.

    The competition is televised now, but it was a written examination then. It had two levels—the state and national levels. At the state level, schools sent at least two students to participate. The student who scored highest at the state level got to represent their state at the national level.

    It took almost a month of preparation and tests before my school selected me. The school administration first selected students with good maths results, gave us extra maths teachers and put us through extra lessons. Students were dropped after each test until they got the top two — me and one other student.

    I eventually came second overall at the state level. Unfortunately, I couldn’t represent my state nationally, but I got a ₦15k cash prize and a certificate.

    That same year, I participated in a maths olympiad organised by the National Mathematical Centre. The olympiad was even more intense than Cowbell’s competition because the questions were more advanced than my JSS 3 level, and a negative marking system removed marks for failing an answer. I also came second overall at the state level and got a certificate.

    In 2011, I wrote WAEC and had one of the best results in my school. I was in the top 10 out of 300+ students, with seven Bs and two Cs. All was set for me to pursue my dreams of studying medicine and becoming a doctor.

    My medicine dream started at age 7 when I read “Gifted Hands” by Ben Carson. I wouldn’t say I had a passion for it. I just bought the Ben Carson dream and looked forward to also becoming a doctor.

    I wrote JAMB first in 2011. I passed but didn’t get medicine, so I tried again in the second year. I still didn’t get medicine, but I decided to apply for supplementary admission into microbiology so I wouldn’t just stay home.

    I still didn’t give up on my dream, though. I wrote JAMB again in 2013 while in my first year of microbiology and finally got medicine. It was at the same university, so I just switched departments. 

    I started medical school without any expectations. I just knew I had to be serious because everyone kept saying that anyone who failed a course in the first year would be instantly withdrawn. I studied hard as usual and passed all my courses — 17 altogether.

    In year two, we started learning medical courses: anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, and community health. Just four courses, but each had about three to four sub-courses. 

    I enjoyed anatomy, particularly gross anatomy, but I struggled with physiology and biochemistry. The latter was worse; I just couldn’t grasp the subject. 

    The thing with studying medicine is that discipline will always beat intelligence. 

    There was A LOT to study, and you needed discipline to sit down and read. I understood this, and I tried. I’d study for hours, go to night class until 5:30 a.m., rest for an hour and then start preparing for an 8 a.m. class. My whole life was a reading cycle. If I wasn’t in class or reading, I was at fellowship.

    I first noticed I was struggling in the second semester of year two. I was studying a lot but still wasn’t meeting the workload. I consulted friends and colleagues, and they helped me study. I managed to pass that year.

    The problem started in year three. This was in 2016. Medical students take their first professional MBBS exam in the third year, and all our results from the first year up to then are averaged as part of our continuous assessment (CA) and scored over 40. The professional exam was to be scored over 60 and combined with the CA to make 100 marks. The pass mark was 50.

    There was no particular pass mark for the CA, but it’s advised that you score at least 20 on your CA so you can work towards scoring 30 or more in the exam and increase your chances of passing. My CA for anatomy was 20, but it was between 14 and 15 for physiology and biochemistry. I tried my best in the exam, but I ended up failing those two subjects.

    The professional MBBS exams allow students to attempt to pass thrice before being asked to leave medical school. Four months later, I made my second attempt and passed physiology. But I still failed biochemistry. That meant I had to repeat year three and resit all the exams, even those I already passed. 

    My third and final attempt was in 2018. I failed all three courses. I still remember the day I saw the result—14 June 2018. My school posts the results on a noticeboard with a one-word remark beside each name: pass, resit, repeat, or withdraw. 

    I’d checked the noticeboard the night before, but it wasn’t there. Another classmate checked early the following day and saw it was up. So, they snapped the results and sent them to our class WhatsApp group. The remark beside my name was “withdraw”. 

    The withdrawal letter

    It was tragic. The first person I told was my younger sister because we lived together in school. We both cried so much. Then, I informed my fellowship pastor. We were supposed to go somewhere together that day, so I texted him to share the news.

    I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I decided to tell my uncle to help me inform my parents, but he worked offshore and wasn’t in town. I travelled home and stayed with my parents for almost a month but couldn’t say a word. It was eating me up, but I didn’t let them suspect a thing. I didn’t know how to tell them the last five years had gone down the drain.

    I kept hoping that my uncle would come to our town so he’d help me. When I couldn’t bottle it any longer, I told my dad and begged him to help inform my mum. She was understandably upset. It was terrible. She lashed out, and her health even declined. All those years of school fees, pocket money and anticipation had just gone like that. She’d even started making plans for my induction. It was obvious I’d shattered her hopes.

    My dad took it better. He didn’t say anything in anger and did his best to reassure me of his confidence in my academic skills. But I still felt terrible. Everything I’d ever imagined I wanted to be in life was connected to medicine, and I didn’t see any reason to live after losing that opportunity. 

    It was a period of severe depression for me. I lost hope and even attempted suicide twice. I’m just grateful that God raised people to help and pray for me. Some didn’t even know why they were praying for me, but those prayers kept me alive.

    When I returned to school, I started looking for other departments to join. The school administration had given me a withdrawal letter, which I could take to other departments. If they accepted me, the school would just process my transfer.

    I first went to the faculty of pharmacy — I was still hoping for a big-name course — but the dean outrightly refused. I had to return to the microbiology I’d previously run away from. They accepted, and I started 200 level in the 2018/2019 session.

    Even though I didn’t make it, I don’t regret the five years I spent studying medicine and surgery. The discipline and training I got in medical school helped me in microbiology. Studying was easier, and I did much better. I even had time to become active in my campus fellowship. I took my final exams in 2022 and officially graduated in 2024 with a 4.34 CGPA — the gap was due to internal delays in processing students for clearance. 

    Ini’s result notification

    It took me 12 years to earn a degree, but I like to see my experience as a preparation for life. I didn’t make it as a doctor, but I learned lessons I’ll never forget. It was the first time I’d ever failed anything in my life. I literally went from winning awards in school to struggling to pass. Thankfully, I didn’t drown.

    My fellowship pastor told me something after I shared the news of failing medical school, and I still remember it. He said, “Okay. This thing has happened now. What will it make of you? Will it make a chicken or a beast out of you?”. I responded and said it’d make a beast out of me.

    That question he asked stuck with me over the years. Through the months of depression and through other challenges, I kept telling myself I’d come out as a beast. I’m glad I’ve moved on. 

    I’m not afraid of my future. I can look at tomorrow with hope and faith. The Bible says, “The path of the just is like a shining light which shines brighter and brighter unto a perfect day,” and I stand by that. I’ll never have any doubts about my tomorrow again.

    NEXT READ: It Haunts Me That I Never Got to Make My Parents Proud

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  • Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.

    Let’s go all the way back to your oldest memory of money. 

    Primary school, running to my dad’s workplace to collect the money for my common entrance form. Also, I know people used to dash me money quite often, but it always ended up with my parents. My mum was a teacher in my school, so she always held onto my money. 

    I feel like if we asked for reparations from all the money our parents collected on our behalf, it might be going into the billions.

    Or not, ‘what about the Christmas shoe?’

    Your parents would be so proud right now. 

    Haha, I’ve just heard it enough to not accept it.

    I imagine you’ve always wanted to be a doctor.

    Not exactly. In fact, my dad kept asking me if I was sure about my choice at the JAMB office because I didn’t say it so often. I first wanted to be a lawyer, then an engineer, then a physicist, and finally a doctor. I just had this confidence that I’d excel at whatever I chose to do. 

    So I chose medicine because I wanted to unravel the mystery of the profession. Like “what’s even the big deal?”

    Your dad was a doctor? 

    Far from it. My dad’s never worked in the formal sector. Did photography, farming, small-small contracts here and there.

    Nice. So, medicine; expectations vs reality.

    I didn’t exactly have expectations. I wanted to know why it was described as a lofty profession. The reality surpassed whatever expectations were in my head. I didn’t really have a scope of illnesses beyond malaria, fractures, small injuries. The Medical School showed me a wide range of diseases, a lot of which I’m yet to see in real life.  So about being able to make what I call ‘sweet diagnosis’, I was happy. 

    My interest in medicine grew in medical school and I can no longer picture myself not practising medicine. 

    Sweet diagnosis? Tell me about your first.

    It was in one of my outside postings in school. I was at the clinic with this senior doctor and the mother came and started narrating what was wrong with her baby. I called it in my head or maybe I whispered to the person sitting next to me. When the senior doctor started asking us to listen to the boy’s heart, I knew I was right. He had a large ventricular septal defect! That’s probably not the first but that’s the one I remember. 

    It feels like how every time a major insurgency begins, someone’s journalism career is getting propelled. 

    Well, journalists can shine the spotlight on the insurgency and can bring about a change. We made that diagnosis and sent the baby to a specialist who probably dropped the “you may need to travel to India” bomb on the literally poor woman. 

    For us, it’s like reporting on Yemen, and knowing that people just like the pictures and move on. Nothing changes. 

    Let’s do a rough estimate; how frequently do you have cases where the patients can’t afford treatment?

    Ah, during my house job, let’s say 70% of patients couldn’t afford treatment but after calling everyone, it comes to about 40%. It was a teaching hospital so they’d probably spent all their money on smaller hospitals and chemist shops before getting the final diagnosis that will actually take all their money. But I’m now in a place where 70% of patients are covered by the NHIS. 

    Let’s digress. Did you ever have to do anything else besides school work for cash? 

    No. I did some ‘research’ for one of my dad’s friends after school which paid me about 80k. 

    What year was this and what level were you in?

    I was 22 and this was December 2017. It was after school, after my house job. House job is a beautiful time for the account. 

    First proper monthly income eh?

    Yup. And they paid after 2 months, ₦375k. It was actually ₦162-₦164k per month but there was a bonus or something.

    What was it like though, first salary vibes?

    Oh, it felt good. I felt independent. Most of it went towards black tax sha. I sent money to everyone who I had some sense of gratitude towards. Church, family friends, everyone. 

    So black tax only touched the first salary eh?

    Very well. About ₦250k. It still comes in once in a while though.

    When did you first realise that the Japa had to happen?

    During house job and NYSC reinforced it. The state of our healthcare is sad. I was almost always sad for the entire year. Too many people died. 

    I’m sorry you had to go through that. What was the leading cause of death?

    Poverty.

    Gut punch. 

    Doctors who know all the stuff but are as helpless as the patients. We need to get people more involved in healthcare financing. Revamp the healthcare system, such that enough people have faith in the system to enrol in social health insurance. Health insurance will help to distribute the financial risk associated with most illnesses, especially chronic illnesses. 

    It’s a sad vicious cycle, diagnoses of chronic conditions make poor people even poorer. Take Chronic Kidney Disease, for example; a poor person is more likely to be coming for weekly dialysis than to get a transplant. 

    The weekly dialysis is just buying them extra time because they will run out of money and they will die.

    A rich person knows we can’t do the transplant in every hospital here. They’d travel, get their transplant done and that’s that. 

    These complex procedures will be cheaper if we do them often, that way we have trained manpower and equipment. Instead, we buy machines that’ll get spoilt before the next batch of medical expatriates come.

    Crazy.

    There was this patient, 20 years old. She got “married as a teenager” to a man as broke as she was, to be his second wife. She had Chronic Kidney Disease.

    The man went AWOL ( men are more likely to abandon their partners in the hospital). Her parents actually tried but they didn’t really have money. They paid for the first dialysis, the unit raised money for the second. Each dialysis cost ₦27k.

    Whenever she came in as an emergency, the doctors and nurses would rally and raise money. She’d step away from death’s clutch for a bit and they’d take her home again.

    They took her home and she was supposed to come twice a week for dialysis. Her case was quite bad. A kidney transplant procedure might have cost her up to ₦10 million. Of course, there was no money for that so they kept her till they couldn’t keep her at home any longer. 

    The last time she came, even our charity couldn’t save her. She was too sick. 

    She had two kids. I wonder how they’re doing. 

    Wow. How many times have you ever had to raise money for a patient?

    I don’t think I can count. It was worse in the teaching hospital. It was at least twice a week in paediatric posting. Maybe 40 times – I think that’s even modest. 

    That is crazy. Hypothetically, how would you fix this?

    Privatise the health sector – keep me anon. That way, the stakeholders will actually be interested. The poor might suffer at first but it will eventually make sense. 

    So, the stress is too much you just want to japa. What stage are you at? 

    I’d say I’m in the middle. 

    How did you fund these?

    I raised ₦735k from my dad mostly, and towards my exams. 

    Yes, I did. Though it seems I may have to go begging from them later. I would definitely still need money. I need to sort out accommodation when I go for my exams, plus all the money that will be spent when I am finally ready to relocate.

    In the time being, I’m working at a government hospital. I did NYSC here and just stayed on as an ad hoc staff. ₦80k per month.

    Fascinating that you earned more at your house job than at this one? How much did they pay you during your NYSC?

    ₦50k. But there was NYSC allowance. And I also worked at a private hospital for about 3 months and earned ₦100k per month. But then I became so ill, I thought I was going to die. I resigned from there and stayed with my ₦50k. 

    Woaaaah. What happened?

    I had a chest infection that went on for too long. It seemed my immunity was compromised. I was stressed. 

    Sorry about that. How much do doctors get for NYSC?

    The same allowance everyone gets. It was ₦19,800 when we started but was increased to ₦33k. 

    So, now I’m wondering what ₦80k affords you every month.

    I live in the hospital so rent is off. I hardly go anywhere too. My internet is about 7 to ₦10k. Food? Hahahaha. I really don’t know, it depends on my mood. Toiletries ₦10k. So food, ₦20k. On average. Though I’m certain I’ve spent almost ₦30k this month. 

    I think social media can be blamed too. There’s a lot of visual stimulation. I’m like “it looks good” let me try. 

    Hahaha, what was your last food splurge?

    Ordered Catfish Pepper soup, Jollof rice and moin-moin. ₦7k, with delivery. 

    What is your wildest food splurge?

    I bought a cake late last month. ₦17,500. 

    I’m curious about your perspective on money. 

    It stems from my childhood. My parents weren’t rich-rich, but money was available when we needed it. Sometimes salaries, loans, or savings. We always had what we needed. 

    So my ideology about money is that it really has to meet your needs, fundamentally. I need a steady income that can cater to my basic needs and whatever extra shenanigans it can afford me. 

    This is another reason why I want to leave. It seems I don’t have a hustling bone in my body so I need to work in a place where my primary salary can suffice. 

    Talking about relocation, tell me about what the road to Japa looks like for you, expense-wise

    I still need at least £1000. That’s excluding feeding and accommodation till I get my first salary there. GMC registration; £156. So Tier 2 visa- an average of 600 pounds. Then certificate of good standing from the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria ₦75k, +/- bribes, so they don’t waste my time.

    And lastly, one-way ticket. It feels good saying that. I’m really tired of waiting. 

    How do you intend to raise it?

    I still have some money saved up. I have about ₦750k.

    When do you think you’ll be able to leave?

    When my exam was scheduled for April, I was looking at October but I don’t know when to expect anymore. So I am basically waiting. I just cussed COVID out in my head. 

    Cussing COVID on your behalf too. Working while you wait eh?

    I am. That is the only way I don’t deplete what I have. 

    How many people in your class are planning to travel?

    It’s quite sad. 

    The brain drain is just more glaring in the medical profession because it is a sector that should not be bleeding professionals like this. 

    How much will you say a Nigerian medical degree costs, in time and cash?

    Then there are books, which I did not buy a lot of. I read on my laptop.

    When was the last time you felt broke?

    I feel broke now. My entire stash is earmarked for something. 25k will go to my mum’s screening tests. I’ve been begging her to do her blood tests but paying for it is the only way she’ll take me seriously. Data, 7k, hopefully. 

    Food; I really hope to keep it within 20k. 

    The rest will sit in my general account until I am able to transfer a sizeable amount to my savings account. 

    On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your financial happiness?

    5. I feel broke, but I’m also not lacking anything. 

    What’s a purchase that’s significantly improved the quality of your life?

    A 30,000mAh power bank, which I bought more than a year ago hahaha. It charged my phone more than 5 times. 

    Do you have any financial regrets?

    I wish I had some form of investment during house job when the money was just sitting pretty in my account. My expenses were very minimal. I bought a lot more food then because I didn’t have any time to spare. Then again, I didn’t have time for anything else. 

    What does financial freedom mean to you?

    I want to live in a house that I’ve paid for. A car that I’ve paid for. I want to be able to afford the best healthcare (well insurance in saner climes). Food, obviously, and travel. Charity and Black tax too. I want to be able to give back to my community. 

    Also, are you saying here that it’s impossible to hack good insurance here?

    Most HMOs here won’t even cover chronic conditions. Hospitals are always fighting HMOs before they get their money back. I’m sure there are excellent packages but it’s not that commonplace. 

    Basically, if you can’t hack effective HMOs, that means it’s impossible to fully hack financial freedom for you in Nigeria?

    It’s not possible for me. Maybe those who are super rich with helicopters that can evacuate them immediately or something. Imagine if that even happens during this COVID season. 

    Look, there’s no true freedom for me here.

  • “Excuse me nurse please where is the Doctor?”

    You are looking at her.

    “You want to specialize? When you haven’t found husband?”

    Who husband epp?

    “Aunty please help us call the main Doctor”

    Please explain yourself

    “Small girl like you, so you mean you are a doctor?”

    Who are you calling small girl?

    “Aunty Doctor, Aunty nurse”

    It’s just Doctor, please

    “Ehn I know you are not a nurse just help me call the male Doctor”

    The level of disrespect

    “Eh nurse wait stop talking let me talk to the main Doctor”

    I’m confused he’s a medical student

    “I’m not saying you don’t know your work o, just help me call your oga”

    Look at me I’m the oga here

    “You are a doctor? Your husband is trying o, hope you have time for him”

    Is that what we are here for?

    “You mean you are a doctor doctor? And you are a woman?”

    And so what?

    “Sister but you are too fine to be a doctor now”

    Better face your front

  • When I was born, the plan was to be a baby girl for life and literally too. First day I heard… “you suck breast too much, I can’t wait for you to grow up”.

    But you see, life’s not fair, I started walking and people started throwing around words like “responsible”, “house chore” etc.

    School started and everything was smooth until I got to senior secondary class.

    Science class or art class or commercial class?

    Decided science class and then my mother decided to tell mummy Biola that always has an opinion about everything. Mummy Biola went..

    And then, “this girl that likes to talk a lot, she should be a lawyer”.

    Meanwhile, I was like..

    So time for JAMB, I studied the brochure.

    I concluded on Medicine and Surgery. So first year in school, I was ready. New baffs, who this?

    Year 1 was a breeze!

    Year 2, Anatomy lecturer said “look beside you, that’s your competition”.

    Big texts, human bones, people started calling me “D Doctorrrrrrr”, I started..

    First test and our scores were pasted on the notice board, when I saw my score..

    Year 2 to year 3 break, went home and dad introduced me as a doctor to his friends, I was like..

    Year 3. Restrategized and was ready.

    I wasn’t going to fail anymore because..

    First professional exam.

    Meanwhile, family and friends were very expectant.

    Results were released and yay! I passed.

    Time for wardcoat and actually dealing with real humans.

    Things took a different turn. Each Consultant* had their rule.

    When you resume in the morning, then you get to the clinic and there are no patients.

    And the Consultant announces an impromptu wardround “to keep you busy”.

    Consultant then asks “Whose patient is this?!” and you have not clerked.

    But you signed for your clerking* partner in exchange for him to clerk your patient but he still didn’t clerk.

    Consultant starts insulting you and your ancestors and a Registrar* now puts mouth.

    After you finish chopping that insult from your Consultant.

    Then, the person that was meant to clerk comes to say sorry to you.

    When you get to the hospital early the following day to clerk the patient and are feeling quite confident..

    You finish presenting and the Consultant asks if you’ve seen a stupid person before and you reply..

    And then, he asks you when last you checked the mirror.

    When you forgot to ask a question from your patient but you lied to your Consultant you did.

    And the consultant now asks the patient to confirm if you really did.

    And the patient answers “no”.

    Then he asks the patient “have you seen this medical student before?” And the patient is hesitant.

    Meanwhile your classmates are behind you like..

    After wardround, they come to pay their condolences.

    But you still believe tomorrow will be better.

    Exam time and everybody is like..

    You and your study partner sit in the exam hall like..

    First question- which of these is not unlikely to be true?

    “How was your paper?”

    And that guy that always passes comes to tell you yet again that the paper was bad.

    When you’re the first person to finish oral exams.

    Then you start permutating your scores to see if you will have up to 50%.

    And finally, you passed.

    Then your finally have the time to go to those weddings your friends always invite you for.

    But through everything, you’re still D Doctorrrrr

    Written by Zikoko contributor, Adeola Adedeji. Featured image from Edu Africa Definitions: *Consultant – A specialist in a particular area and the most senior doctor in a clinical team. *Registrar – A senior doctor in the team studying to become a consultant. *Clerking – Interviewing a patient to determine what is wrong with them.