olaoluwatomi

I probably started to bite my nails as soon as I developed teeth :). I  heard the statement 'Stop biting your nails' more often than my name was called. Teachers, Parents, Grandparents, Aunties, Uncles, Friends and everyone who felt that it was their duty to correct me. I thankfully did not have the various treatments that other people in my 'nail biting club' were subjected to. 'Nails coated with bitter leaf concoctions, nail hardener, pepper infused liquids and all other forms of torture aimed at stopping what was viewed as a bad habit. I was spared these treatments and all that I ever received were the long lectures of the harmful health effects of my 'bad' habit. The only time I saw my dad get upset with me was when I developed 'whitlow' on one of my fingers as a complication of my habit. I started Medical School, soaking my fingers in the formalin saturated corpses and yet still I bit on. Even my physician parent's threats of my ha

I left South Sudan about a week ago and I am slowly getting used to a very different way of life. It is strange to see people who are obviously overweight and are shockingly obese. After working and living among people who weighed less than me (even after losing almost 6 kg) even though they were much taller than me, seeing people who have even one ounce of extra fat on me still takes some getting used to. Walking into supermarkets with twenty varieties of ketchup and fifty brands of washing up liquids is enough to make one dizzy. The market offerings of the markets in the refugee camps offer only one brand of sugar and salt. The clothes on sale are usually generically the same, the slippers on sale differ only by color. 'Bun' (coffee) and 'Shai' (tea) shops give the markets a homely feel which Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts cannot replicate. I spent one day in a hospital with my niece who needed to have surgery and it was a far cry from the hospital I worked in a few