AL - 'ILAAJ EDITORIAL BOARD, MSSN UCH, IBADAN

 On the 12th of Rabiul Thani, 1447 AH (4th October 2025), sisters from MSSN UCH, Agodi-Gate Area Council, and beyond came together for a truly radiant experience. The theme of this year’s MSSN UCH/AGAC Sisters’ Seminar was “Az-Zahraa”, the epithet of Fatimah Az-Zahraa (RadhiyaLlahu anha), the daughter of the Prophet  ﷺ . It was held at the UCH Central Mosque, with over 300 attendees present. The programme began with the memorisation of a verse from the Qur’an, Surah An-Nur, verse 35, where Allah says: “Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The example of His light is like a niche within which is a lamp, the lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a pearly white star lit from the oil of a blessed olive tree, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow even if untouched by fire. Light upon light. Allah guides to His light whom He wills. And Allah presents examples for the people, and Allah is Knowing of all things.” The keynote speech, deliv...

Paediatrics 1 was a ghetto of postings. And it wasn’t even about the people; they were mostly nice. I remember us discussing that they were just very principled, and as long as you did at least the minimum expected of you, you should be fine. But that minimum—Lord help you if the consultant ward round was on Monday and you “locked out” during the weekend. By the time you came back to your senses, it would be 9 a.m. on Monday, and the consultant would be asking, “Whose patient is this?” Usually, the probability of being asked to present your patient was highest if your patient happened to be the first reviewed. That often depended on how much of a hurry the consultant was in. You could even risk answering “yes” to having clerked the patient and get away without being asked to present. But Lord help you if the consultant had enough time in the world. “Tell me about your patient.” My story was a crazy one. Three of us were assigned a patient. Two of them decided to split the clerking pres...

Nigeria has celebrated yet another Independence Day. As everyone and every organisation sent out their flyers with pictures of the green and white flag flying high and proud, I sat and imagined the perspective of a seventy-year-old man on all of this. He must have been there, a starry-eyed young lad, as the nation officially gained independence from the British colonisers. He must have witnessed the birth of a country with its name, its flag, its coat of arms, and its freedom. As a teenager, he must have lived through the country’s golden age. He must have marvelled at Cocoa House, built from the revenue of Nigeria’s thriving agricultural exports. He must have watched as the discovery of oil toppled everything over. He must have seen the time when a good income, a house, and a nice car were almost guaranteed for every graduate; when people stood tall and proud and happily called themselves citizens of this nation. He must have witnessed the transfer of power from military rulers to ele...