Bells, Curves and GWF Hegel
A Disjointed, Unnecessarily Long, Uninteresting Account of Twelve Months Being a Socially Awkward Intern-Pharmacist at a Research Institute in a Pandemic -With an Equally Annoyingly Long Title.
Before you begin, please note that the National Institute for Pharmaceutical Research and Development, Abuja will herein be referred to as "the institute", "NIPRD" or "A Research institute". This is to allow me wriggle out of any bogus defamatory charges I may face sometime in the future. Thank you for understanding.
A philosophical concept –the main proponent of which cannot be determined at the moment- claims that life is one big bell curve, discourse is largely focused on the extremes but majority of the action takes place in the middle. This keys into the Hegelian dialectic, a concept described by the German philosopher; Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel. Hegel built on Plato’s system of dialectics to design a system of argument between extremes in a bid to churn out truth with no regards to subjective preconceptions (like emotional appeal). A brute systematic consideration of every possible argument for and against (theses and antitheses) both extremes in question, the one left standing in the end, declared gospel truth. The Hegelian dialectic is (and has been) applied in discussions about multiple facets of life; good and evil, moral and immoral, ethical and unethical, left and right, up and down, indeed as some would even point out, God and Satan.
Useful as it has been, the Hegelian dialectic has been abused by lazy thinkers who do away with all nuances and complexities to focus on the sometimes inconsequential extremes of an argument. A sage once said: “Blanket anecdotes are not entirely useless. They are good for understanding concepts at their most basic level. However, stubbornly refusing to appreciate nuances when applying said concepts in real life is how one becomes ideologically molested”. While this may sound derogatory at face value, it is often proven true when the thought processes behind certain opinions are carefully analysed. We often find that it is a refusal to appreciate nuances that creates intellectually lazy ideologues whose ridiculously predictable opinions are always either here or there (bell curve extremes). “Sauce?”; I do not have a source, Fight me.
In light of the bells and curves jabber, I hope you –my sophisticated readers- will now fully appreciate what it means when I say that it would be easy to categorically declare that my one-year mandatory pre-registration internship was either ‘good’ or ‘bad’, ‘pleasant’ or ‘unpleasant’. But I will not, because that would both be lazy and duplicitous. The truth is it was what you would call a rollercoaster.
“What is real? What is cake? I don’t know"
While I have always been a self-aware and perceptive person, I haven’t always known for sure what I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing. I had different dreams growing up, some of them mine, some of them dreams of immediate family whose admiration of how cerebral I could be led them to create fantasies about my future. At some point, I was given to surgery. Shortly after reading ‘Gifted Hands’ and ‘Think Big’ both by Dr. Ben Carson, I decided I would become a neurologist. I would later go on to harbor dreams of becoming a civil engineer, a quantity surveyor and a biochemist.
I have also always been curious. I would always have questions and I would always demand (yes, in typical tyrannical fashion) answers to them. It was a trait that produced bittersweet moments. There were moments like winning presents and the admiration of teachers, parents and workers of ‘D-United Foods Int. Ltd.’ Ota for my unending questions (and perhaps the nature of questions I asked) as an eight year old, during an excursion to the factory. There were also moments of emotional outbursts like when I could not find answers (as a four-year old) to why my crayon wouldn’t get dry enough to be milled and dissolved to produce a liquid similar to the then-trendy water-colour set. I struggled with anger issues well into my first year at the university when I decided to deal with (read suppress) my emotions. A part of the plan entailed handling things -that meant a lot to me, differently. This led to a plethora of changes that ultimately contributed to my ‘withdrawal’, the eventual mild social anxiety and ‘personality traits’ I picked up that are hardly the theme of this exposition.
Enters NIPRD: “... like a thief at night..."
At no point during this phase was Pharmacy ever in the equation. It was instead, through an interesting turn of events shortly before registering for my second matriculation exam seven years ago that I found myself in pharmacy school. Anyways, I was in my third year, still no idea what subfield of the profession interested me, I only had a bag of opinions of myself to work with. I was fortunate to read a book on subfields available for pharmacists in the UK (the title of which, currently eludes me like many other significant things in life) and while I came across interesting career paths like ‘Radio-pharmacy’ and ‘Surgical Pharmacy’, it was ‘Research Pharmacy’ that caught my eye. The book described a typical research pharmacist and it felt like reading a composition on me (did I say it right?). Simple as that, I was decided. Further research exposed me to the story of Professor Qansy Salako which formed in me a preconception; if I would enjoy a career in research, it would be away from the borders of my home country. I first learnt about NIPRD during a first year course; ‘introduction to pharmacy practice’ (PCP 101), handled by the famous Dr. FE Williams MAW of the University of Ilorin. The day I learnt NIPRD was an accredited pharmacy internship establishment was the day my mind was made up to intern at the institute. I had a lot of questions about the Nigerian research climate that I knew NIPRD would provide answers to.
Making first contact
I wrote the entry exam in November 2019 with two classmates. Both of them got placement in the institute, I didn’t. I was devastated...
In July 2019, a month before I was inducted into the profession, I sent an email to the front desk at the institute and was directed to the preceptor; Dr. CY Isimi, who I would go on to revere immensely. Armed with requisite documents, I submitted an application immediately after my induction through a senior colleague to whom I am eternally grateful (my guy, na man you be). I was focused, my colleagues had options, but it was NIPRD or nothing for me. I wrote the entry exam in November 2019 with two classmates. Both of them got placement in the institute, I didn’t. I was devastated, I even considered seeking placement in federal and state hospitals (and I in-fact submitted applications) but nothing was forthcoming and being a person of faith (not in zodiac signs abeg), I took it as a sign, “message received, universe!” I prepared for the next round of screening at the institute in February/March, I reapplied, wrote the exams, got in and resumed at the institute on March 23rd 2020, a day before lockdown was declared in the FCT, “message received universe?”
The lockdown would go on for another year but as interns, we resumed at the institute after three months and so it began. Bear with me as I take you through accounts of my mandatory internship from two key perspectives, that you may juxtapose, combine, and contrast them, understand why I would describe my experience as a rollercoaster. For this purpose, we will look at my academic and non-academic activities while I was an intern at the institute.
ACADEMIC ACTIVITIES
The First Resumption.
On the 23rd of March 2020 when I first resumed at the institute, I completed necessary documentation having indicated that I would like to major in the department of pharmacology and toxicology. My schedule was prepared by my preceptor and I was to resume immediately at the department of Pharmacology and Toxicology. There was not much to do at the department upon my resumption. I completed further documentation there and was assigned a supervisor; Dr. Peter Ahmadu. I met my supervisor on that day and after a brief chit-chat about my experience in pharmacy school (isn’t that all senior colleagues like to talk about?), he instructed me to read about anemia, pharmacological models of studying anemia and plants indigenous to the African region that have been reported to find use in traditional medicine in treating anemia. I did my homework, did a quick review of what I had gathered on the morning of Tuesday the 24th of March before proceeding to prepare for work and it was while I prepared for work that I received a message from the preceptor informing me of a ‘stay-at-home order’ (as her message put it) in response to the newly announced lockdown.
A Second Resumption: Pharmacology and Hospital Practice
Some three months after the stay-at-home order was enforced, we were asked to resume. My schedule was adjusted and I was to resume again in the department of Pharmacology and Toxicology. On resumption, I was assigned a new supervisor; Dr. LB John-Africa. For the first few weeks at the department, I mainly observed and assisted during various laboratory procedures, collecting data from an antitussive study carried out on the then popular ‘Madagascar potion’, collecting data on an analgesic study of an unnamed plant extract among others that exposed me to a number of concepts in study design. Two weeks before my stay in the department was to end, my supervisor spoke to me about collaborating with two other interns she supervised to do a behavioural study –after a number of chopping here and there in the design, I don’t know that you can still call it a behavioural study. I was to collaborate with Pharmacist OV Okoli and Pharmacist RO Odunola on the project. It was on the herbal concoctions sold by roadside vendors and at motorparks and was initially designed to validate the pharmacological claims and study/provide insight into the behavioural effects of the concoctions towards informing policy guiding their consumption by commercial drivers and riders.
My stay at the department of Pharmacology and Toxicology came to an end in August 2020 and I was posted to the National Hospital where I worked –for four weeks- at the General Outpatient Department Pharmacy, the In-patient Pharmacy, the main pharmacy and the Special Treatment Center (STC) pharmacy. I was exposed to a commendable set-up of hospital practice (bar a few blemishes, of course) and I met a number of upstanding and quite comely colleagues (no questions will be entertained on this) during my stay. I completed my posting at the National Hospital in September 2020 and had to resume at the institute, to the department of Microbiology and Biotechnology.
Microbiology and My Grapple With an Editor Full of Shit
On resumption at the department of Microbiology and Biotechnology (MBBT), I completed requisite documentation (more paperwork) and was assigned a supervisor; Dr. MI Aboh who I would go on to have quite a productive relationship with. My time at MBBT was generally unremarkable as I mainly assisted with routine tasks like sub-culturing, plating, autoclaving, pouring plates, inoculating and others. Nevertheless, I learnt a number of things about study design in the microbiology domain. Close to the end of my stay at the department, my supervisor requested I write a commentary on the impact of COVID on research. I thought the topic was a bit too broad and after doing some streamlining (without consulting with my supervisor 😎), I wrote a piece on the impact of COVID on healthcare research in Africa. After handing the term paper in, I discussed the prospect of publishing it as a commentary in a journal with my supervisor and with her consent, I began preparing the manuscript for submission as a commentary to Public Health in Practice. I enjoyed the assistance (in co-author capacities) of three other colleagues while I prepared and electronically submitted the manuscript. Five weeks after submission, I got a decision; the editor thought the manuscript would be better suited as a ‘letter to the editor’ in the journal. I reformatted the manuscript and resubmitted it as advised. Another five weeks and 24 hours after resubmission, I got another decision. The article was rejected, the editor thought we made “sweeping statements about research capacity and activity for an entire continent (Africa)” and -despite said continent housing over 17% of the world’s population while producing less than 1% of the world’s research output, the editor opined that our piece was unnecessarily alarmist because “there are some countries in Africa like Egypt, South Africa, Kenya, The Gambia and Nigeria with an excellent research track record”. Needless to say, the manuscript now sits in a hard drive and in the clouds, well past the period during which its content would have been relevant.
Quality Control
I made interesting discoveries during my quality control assay on griseofulvin tablets, two of the four selected brands spectacularly failing to meet up with the assay standards as stated in reference books.
In October 2020, I resumed at the department of Medicinal Chemistry and Quality Control (MCQC). I was assigned a supervisor; Pharmacist IH Galadima. During my time in the department, I worked on the quality control of dexamethasone tablets (a project I abandoned halfway as instructed by my supervisor) and then on griseofulvin tablets. I made interesting discoveries during my quality control assay on griseofulvin tablets, two of the four selected brands spectacularly failing to meet up with the assay standards as stated in reference books. Thanks to the guidance of my supervisor, we now await a repeat of the assay by another analyst of similar expertise (another intern) before we form a hypothesis on the state of these brands of griseofulvin as marketed in FCT.
Medicinal Plant Research: Apothecary Coming Through!
On the last week of November 2020, I started my posting at the department of Medicinal Plant Research and Traditional Medicine where I worked with five other colleagues on a number of projects, the most notable of which was an analysis of the antioxidant propensities of extracts from various plant parts of Cassia sieberiana including the fruit, root, polycarp and seed. This antioxidant analysis was done on the backbone of a nitric oxide reduction assay and a reduction capacity assay against standard ascorbic acid. The report of the study was handed over to my supervisor, Pharmacist O Fatokun to whom I did not suggest publishing the report because I suspected it was only but a small part of a much bigger study involving much more prestigious colleagues at the institute (I read the room).
The end of my posting at the department coincided with the beginning of my yaay-end-of-the-year two-week leave.
Getting Some Community Practice in
My first posting at the beginning of 2021 was at a community pharmacy; Nolad pharmaceuticals, Gwarimpa. My stay at the pharmacy was shortened due to certain circumstances. I left in February 2021 with a very different perspective on community practice and its unnecessary shoehorning into the schedule of the typical aspiring research-pharmacist interning at a research institute. Suffice to say my opinion on this subject is well known among peers.
Pharm. Tech: Where Mortars and Pestles Speak
In the second week of February, I resumed my last internship posting at the department of Pharmaceutics and Industrial Pharmacy where I was picked up by (rather than assigned to) Dr. OJ Olayemi -to be fair, this was the experience of almost everyone else Dr. Olayemi supervised. Under her supervision, I dabbled into a number of important pharmaceutical projects including the production of a hand sanitizer gel, the extraction of various plant parts, the formulation and analysis of pharmaceutical floating beads impregnated with metronidazole and the formulation of herbal gels using starch produced from Neorautanenia mitis. I discussed publishing my work on floating beads with her but the idea did not fly because the ‘floating beads’ did not float smh. My posting at the department as well as my mandatory internship ended with a one-week leave that commenced after a sunny Friday the 12th of March, 2021.
At the end of my one-year internship at the institute, I already had an original research article and a commentary on vaccination in Africa published (the stories behind both of which do not feature here because they were neither done in my capacity as an intern nor in any affiliation with the institute), a commentary on research in Africa rejected in unenviable fashion, an original research manuscript currently being prepared for publishing/presentation at a conference, a number of reports and reviews and a ‘truckload’ of experience especially in study design.
NON-ACADEMIC ACTIVITIES
The period of my internship was not exactly colourful and I wouldn’t expect to have too much non-academic activity to report but follow me.
Settling in
I take great pride in how I was able to turn an apartment that looked like an abandoned pen into a clean, healthy livable space with minimum cost and maximum effort, vision, aspirations, perspirations, dreams, positive energy, the whole package, you know.
On arriving FCT in March 2020, I had to seek shelter with a friend of an old classmate (both of whom I owe a lot by the way). This arrangement was pending securing an apartment for myself. The lockdown and spin-off stay-home-order provided ample time to ‘house-hunt’ in the industrial area I would only refer to as a city for lack of a better word. In a week, I had gotten an apartment -which bears saying, was not in the best state when I found it. I take great pride in how I was able to turn an apartment that looked like an abandoned pen into a clean, healthy livable space with minimum cost and maximum effort, vision, aspirations, perspirations, dreams, positive energy, the whole package, you know.
Overraw Best and Worst Employees Ever
We learned from earlier interns that the minimum wage scheme as designed by the government was yet to be implemented by the institute and they were determined to see to it that it was as soon as possible.
Quite a lot happened during the lockdown, some colleagues and I had to report to the institute during the lockdown to assist with the production of hand sanitizer gels for the institute under the supervision of the preceptor, Ramadan was during the lockdown, and on and on. The lockdown was soon over (at least for interns) and we resumed three months after it began. Other fresh interns and I had not been paid three months after our first resumption and panic was soon seeping into the camp [inserts evangelist black camaru’s picture]. After the fourth month, we received our first salary (wey dem?! we shutting down quillox, innit?) but it was not the end of it. We learned from earlier interns that the minimum wage scheme as designed by the government was yet to be implemented by the institute and they were determined to see to it that it was as soon as possible. We joined the fight, a few bad decisions and a couple of snowflakes defecting to the enemy’s camp later, we found ourselves having to apologize to the institute for writing a number of ‘incendiary’ and ‘non-factual’ petitions against its administration [big eyes emoji because why not?].
Hospital practice: good, but not enough.
In August, I resumed at my first outpost in the national hospital. I would go on to meet welcoming persons there and learn quite a few things about hospital practice. It was not enough to pry me from research however, I even started to question the purpose of going on posting to the hospital when I should be allowed to enjoy a whole year of uninterrupted practice in an academic environment (the whole point of deciding to intern at an institute). It was not until my community posting that this thought finally materialized into a full blown fiery social media rant by yours truly, an episode peers like to reference light-heartedly.
#EndSARS: More Than a Movement.
“…when evening struck, bloodthirsty police officers were released on us, chanting war cries. No one remembered our “how many pipu polis go kill o…” mantra when the rubber bullets and teargas canisters started flying, baton and pepper spray-welding neanderthals approached.”
After returning to the institute in September, I was a research-intern again (as per). About a month later, a notable chain of events began. One many people will remember for a long time and for good reason. It indeed changed my life. A series of protests against police brutality and the now supposedly defunct SARS formation sprung up all over the country in response to a few ugly episodes of police brutality down south of the Niger that received wide publicity on social media (most notably, twitter). Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt and some other states in the south had very memorable occurrences. I joined the protests in Abuja. On the first day, morale was high as we chanted “how many pipu polis go kill o…” while we walked through banex, wuse to unity fountain (where we took a break to strategize), and some other places I don’t know. We passed the eagle square and finally, we bravely set up camp on the road in front of the police force headquarters. We insisted on speaking to the IGP before leaving (we stated we did not mind passing the night. Protesters in Lagos did it, innit?). Well, when evening struck, bloodthirsty police officers were released on us, chanting war cries. No one remembered our “how many pipu polis go kill o…” mantra when the rubber bullets and teargas canisters started flying, baton and pepper spray-welding neanderthals approached. The very first rubber bullet shot by a pot-bellied officer caught me square on the shin (tough luck, I know). Suffice to say my right calf had increased to about two times its size (I can still find a knot today if I feel around) by the time I finally made it home. I attended a few more uneventful protests at berger and unity fountain Abuja (while calling in sick at work) before disaster struck.
The movement which quickly devolved in regular fashion into deployment of state-sponsored elements of violence culminated in the infamous October 20th 2020 lekki massacre: The shooting and killing of unarmed protesters at the lekki tollgate, Lagos by men of the Nigerian armed forces who claim to have been invited by the Lagos State Government to enforce a dubious curfew. The events of October 2020 are by no means as simple as I have put it here but this is the extent to which I can discuss a series of events that changed me in ways I had earlier thought unimaginable.
The rest of the year ended relatively uneventfully as the nation glumly mourned the loss of patriots and more importantly, of the innocence and political naivety of younger millennials and gen z’ers.
2021 Begins
“Pls kindly go to any of our test centres near you and repeat your test. We can not find your result"
The year (2021) started very atypically for me. I came down with a severe health impairment days before the new year shortly after being in contact with someone who would later test positive for the COVID virus and after submitting myself at the Federal Medical Center, Jabi for the COVID test on the basis of my suspicion, I self-quarantined until my results were to be released (at least, that was the plan). Unfortunately, I never got my COVID test results and after weeks of demanding for it through various channels (phone calls, SMS texts and emails), the final response I got –via email- read “Pls kindly go to any of our test centres near you and repeat your test. We can not find your result”. Of course I did not repeat the test. I went through a dark time mentally during my self-quarantine and I started writing in a journal I now hope nobody ever finds. I was fine in the end (I am now, thank you very much), and in three weeks, I was buzzing to get back to work.
The final undoing of Community Practice
At the end of my posting at the outlet, I was not keen on ever considering community practice in any capacity.
In the fourth week of January, I resumed my community posting at Nolad Pharmacy, Gwarimpa. The posting which was supposed to run for five weeks could only span two weeks due to my late resumption. I resumed at the community pharmacy anyway, three weeks late and after a few explanations here and provision of evidence there, I finally began my posting. It was not at all eventful and that was unbearable for me. It was underwhelming, the tasks I did were repetitive. To put it bluntly, I felt more like a supermarket sales-person than a pharmacist. At the end of my posting at the outlet, I was not keen on ever considering community practice in any capacity.
A happy ending? Yes, Please!
My internship ended in March 2021, two months after the end of my community posting and roller coaster as it has been, there were positives and relative negatives.
I left NIPRD with years’ worth of experience, exposure and a heart fully motivated. More importantly, I had a glimpse into the life of an academic. I met a number of amazing researchers during my stay but it was my own observation of the interpersonal relationships among them and my analysis of the ‘office politics’ in the institute that provided much sought insight into what the research (and broadly academic) climate and work environment in it are like. Suddenly, the academic memes on social media came to life for me and (unrelated but ‘brah’), I finally began to understand the reason an overwhelming majority of academicians I have met over the years seem very mechanical and removed from the lives they lived. It was not pretty, but it was necessary and terrifying as the future may seem, I am better equipped now and can say with all certainties that interning at NIPRD for a year was a net positive for me as a professional and as a person (not that I have a standard against which to compare but I need a happy ending here, try to undastand).
