The forgotten generation

Early on a September morning, 50-year-old Helen Ojeahuku sits on a metal chair under the portico at the entrance of Grace Nursing Care Center. Flanked by plants and flowers in the serene compound on the outskirts of Abuja, she quietly recited verses from the Psalms, which she calls her “healing Scriptures.”

Her short hair is the only visible sign of her recent battle with breast cancer. Ojeahuku, who is currently in remission, left her home in southern Nigeria to live in the center for the duration of her recovery. She was initially hesitant to move into Grace, but by her second week, she had embraced her decision. “My adrenaline levels need to be put on check,” she said, adding that the solitude provided much-needed quiet reflection time.

While nursing homes and assisted-living facilities are commonplace in the West, centers like Grace are novel in Nigeria, where elderly or ailing parents typically move in with their children. By WORLD’s calculations, Grace is one of only about 20 nursing homes across Nigeria, a country of 206 million. In Nigerian culture, sending one’s parents to a nursing home is viewed as shameful. Also, seniors 65 and older make up less than 3 percent of Nigeria’s population, so they receive less government attention. In comparison, more than 16 percent of Americans fall into that group.

Healthcare providers say this forgotten group needs more access to specialized care, especially as more young Nigerians migrate overseas and leave their elderly parents without caretakers. Nursing homes hope to fill that gap, along with medical groups providing at-home care and telemedicine.

Grace’s founder, Victoria Onu, said she felt called by God to start the home in 2004. She had seen firsthand the burdens of taking care of an elderly relative: Her father battled Alzheimer’s. Onu’s mother, who served as his primary caregiver, would often lock him indoors alone when she needed to run errands. At the time, Onu and her family hadn’t heard of nursing homes. She now says that if they had existed when her father was alive, she would have sent him there.

Because of the novelty of nursing homes, Onu faced roadblocks as she sought to set up the facility. When she reached out to the Health Ministry and other relevant departments to inquire about regulations, none of them had information on nursing homes. When the center finally opened in 2015, it took health officials another two years to figure out how to license it.

The compound, which Onu designed herself, now includes three interconnected bungalows, one serving as an administrative block and two others as residences. The center feels like a large home with a living room, dining area, and private and shared rooms. It also has a recreational hall and special services for disabled residents. “The ambiance is very important,” Onu said. “No one wants to feel like they’re living in a hospital.”

The home has now taken in as many as 20 clients, including short-term residents recovering from stroke and 84-year-old Omojola Oguara, a long-term resident who has stayed for more than two years.

Elderly care services in Nigeria have improved since Onu began working in the field. In February, Nigeria’s cabinet approved a national policy on Aging for Older Persons. By June, President Muhammadu Buhari signed off on a National Senior Citizens Center to provide seniors with healthcare, pension, and other social services. Other residential homes have also sprung up in Lagos and Abeokuta states.

Healthcare workers say the sector is still underfunded. Onu noted running elderly homes is capital intensive, and with no government subsidies, families bear the burden alone. Her home’s monthly cost ranges from $437 to $679, while specialized care costs extra. That’s a high price in a country where the average family makes $335 per month.

Onu believes Nigerians underemphasize the need for such centers. One woman who brought her elderly father with Alzheimer’s to the center said he had started to hit his grandchildren. She felt overwhelmed caring for him while juggling her work and children.

“When you have a sick elderly person, your attention is always on that person,” Onu said. “The children begin to feel neglected.”

In Oguara’s private room, 11 colorful hand-drawn cards hang over her bed. She said they are from her grandchildren, whom she misses. But the specialized care means her children no longer worry about her eating enough or getting the attention she needs. “It’s the best place to relax after years of work,” she said.