MUCH ADO ABOUT UNIVERSAL HEALTH COVERAGE BY 2030

7th April every year is known as World Health Day. For the year 2018, the focus was on Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) 3, which seeks to achieve universal health coverage by 2030. In Nigeria and many other countries, the need for health insurance schemes was and still is being talked about as a means to achieving this developmental goal. The theme for the year is "Universal Health Coverage: Everyone, Everywhere".

I registered for one of such schemes and here's my experience. 

It was a Monday morning and I had to take permission to dash out of the office in order to see a doctor. In my mind, I had an idea of what was giving me restless nights, muscle aches, and sore throat, but I just felt like using up some of the health plan I had registered and paid for months ago. The Management of the company I work for had made it compulsory that all staff have a health insurance plan and I wasn't so comfortable about it because I don't believe in compelling people against their will. 

So I got to the hospital in anticipation of how service delivery would be. I walked in, stood at the counter and waited for the receptionist to finish attending to the lady there. I just greeted her and didn't say any other thing. As is a norm with customer service in Nigeria, she was busy chatting off with another lady at intervals. Then her phone rang and she answered, talking for about two or more minutes. I still didn't utter a word. Then after a while, she asked me how she could help me. I told her I needed to see a doctor and showed her my HMO ID card (name withheld). She then asked that I write my name in a register and said I should have a seat at the waiting area. I saw a former colleague and after we exchanged pleasantries, I told her it was my first time in the hospital. She told me they'll have to register my details, etc. So I took a seat and waited, looking around and studying other patients. Most of them were pregnant women who came for antenatal, so did my former colleague.

They were all in different trimesters and my gaze fell on one who appeared nothing less than distressed. She was obviously the heaviest and my phobia for pregnancy returned. I took my eyes off her even as another colleague walked into the hospital. She called me, asking what I was doing there.  I got up and approached her, as I told her I wanted to see a doctor. We got to the counter where she said it was her first time and she had misplaced her card. The receptionist also asked her to register her name and number. She saw me and remembered me, then said "Ehen, you said you're new, let me get your details." I gave her everything she asked for; she wrote my name and registration number on a small piece of paper which she asked that I give to the nurse few steps from her. I took it, gave it to the nurse and sat down. Then some phlegm formed in the base of my throat which I had to spit out. I went back to the counter and asked the lady for the restroom. She directed me to the restroom. On my way I encountered some ‘preggies’ holding little tube-like bottles with red caps. They also had tissue paper wrapped at the bottom of the bottle to hide its content. One of them stood next to the toilet which was already occupied as I could see, both holding the red-capped bottle. I told the one outside that I just wanted to spit something out. She said ok as she stepped in and emptied the content of her bottle IN THE SINK! Goodness gracious! She had turned on the sink to wash it off, but I still held my breath, spat out the phlegm, put on the tap, ensured it went away and stepped out. 

I went back to my seat to continue my wait. Then my eyes wandered off to the table where the ‘preggies’ were being attended to. The nurse took out a strip from a box, dipped it into a ‘preggies’ tube, looked at it and dropped it on the floor by the corner of the table where others lay. Taking a second look, there was a bag on the floor but she didn't care anymore if the strips entered it or not. My mind went back to the lady who had emptied her bottle in the sink. Could it be urine? It sure seemed like a urine bottle, little wonder I felt disgusted. 

I finally saw the doctor some minutes after 11am. The nurse called me into his office and I sighted the same small paper my name and number had been written on his table. He was busy with his computer, had a brief chat with the nurse and didn't offer me a seat, so I helped myself. When he was done, he asked me what the matter was. I narrated how I'd been feeling. He then asked if I was having fever, I said not really. 

“Any cough?”

“No, but sore throat.”

“When last did you see your menses?” 

In my mind I was like “what has this got to do with anything?” 

I told him to wait so I checked my phone. The doctor laughed and said, 

"So you're checking your phone?”

Yes, I said. “I have an app where I keep track.” 

He laughed. For a moment I thought the laughter was because I couldn't remember by heart, but his next statement shocked me. 

"Are you married?"

"No", I said. 

“It's only married women who are trying to get pregnant who keep track of their period like that”, he said. 

"Really?" I asked in bewilderment.

He continued laughing and started typing on his system. About two minutes later he said I could go out to the pharmacy which was just outside his office to pick my medicine. Amazingly, he had communicated with the pharmacy the drugs he prescribed through his computer. I was impressed with the efficiency this portrayed, and that he didn't have to show me his horrible handwriting (which all doctors have). The lady pharmacists asked my name and requested that I hold on for a minute or two. I went to sit down and after waiting for some time without anyone calling me, I walked back to the counter where she tried to convince me that she looked for me. I was handed my medication which included malaria drugs, Paracetamol and some funny chewable Coflin tablets. 

As expected, I didnt have to pay for anything at the hospital. However, when I got back to work, I received a debit of about N4000! N4000 for what exactly? Drugs and services, with no tests run? Goodness me! And someone will say healthcare is cheap? What about persons who are not working? How would they be able to afford this? 

Since then, I have been contemplating with my colleague about renewing this package which costs about N30,000 or more per annum. I have used it just once and I'm wondering, what would happen to my balance being that the plan should be renewed in a months time? So, the question is to renew or not to renew? 

Well, I believe and hope there are more affordable and transparent  plans out there for the not so financially buoyant populace, so #HealthForAll can be achieved in the nearest future.  

Photo Credit: WHO