By Abiemwense Moru, NAN —
Reflecting on the life-changing night in August 2024, Babangida Ibrahim recalls that the sudden seizure brought more confusion than pain, instantly shattering what had been a peaceful evening.
Ibrahim had gone to bed healthy and unaware that his brain was about to signal a serious neurological emergency that would test his assumptions about illness, faith, and Nigeria’s healthcare system.
While asleep, his body jerked violently, and he lost consciousness without warning.
His wife, Zainab, witnessed the frightening episode and later explained he had suffered a seizure.
Ibrahim remembered nothing about the event, no sensation, no discomfort, no history of illness, only the unsettling realisation that something beyond ordinary stress had interrupted his life suddenly.
Like many Nigerians, his first instinct was hesitation rather than hospital care, as he attributed the seizure to stress, overwork, or exhaustion, hoping rest alone would prevent recurrence.
Another seizure followed within days, and conversations with friends gradually shifted explanations away from medicine toward spiritual interpretations and informal advice shaped by cultural familiarity.
Extended family members suggested unseen forces, jealousy, or spiritual attack, reflecting common narratives that often shape health decisions before professional diagnosis enters the conversation.
Herbal mixtures were prepared carefully, incense burned, soaps recommended, and traditional remedies offered sincerely, demonstrating community support yet delaying biomedical investigation of the underlying neurological problem.
In spite of repeated episodes, Ibrahim postponed hospital evaluation, partly due to fear of medical environments and partly due to belief that symptoms might resolve without invasive intervention.
The turning point came publicly when he collapsed at a roadside grill, losing consciousness before strangers who immediately transported him to Maitama Clinic for emergency stabilisation.
Doctors at Maitama Clinic provided first aid, monitored his vitals, and firmly advised neurological consultation, interrupting the cycle of speculation and marking the first decisive step toward diagnosis.
A neurologist prescribed anti-seizure medication, which Ibrahim took consistently for several months, achieving seizure control that created stability necessary for deeper diagnostic investigation.
With symptoms controlled, an MRI scan was ordered, revealing a meningioma, a non-cancerous but space-occupying brain tumour compressing tissue and triggering abnormal electrical activity.
The neurologist referred him to the Federal Medical Centre Jabi for specialist neurosurgical evaluation, shifting care into Nigeria’s tertiary health system.
There, Consultant Neurosurgeon Douglas Okor, reviewed detailed imaging and replaced spiritual interpretations with anatomical explanation grounded in clinical evidence and neurophysiology.
He showed Ibrahim the tumour’s location on digital scans, explaining how pressure on surrounding brain tissue disrupted electrical pathways and produced recurrent seizures.
Okor outlined three treatment pathways: radiation therapy, prolonged steroid management, or surgical excision, carefully weighing risks, benefits, and long-term implications for neurological health.
Radiation was unsuitable because the tumour had grown significantly, while steroids offered temporary relief but carried risks of immune suppression and systemic complications.
Surgery, though complex, offered definitive removal and long-term resolution, challenging the widespread assumption that advanced neurosurgical procedures require treatment abroad for safety and success.
