On 19 July, I spoke to Ameyo Stella Adadevoh, the senior Consultant Endocrinologist and
Physician, who has just died of the Ebola Virus Disease (EVD), to schedule a previously
agreed medical review. It was a Saturday. We agreed that I would come in the following
Monday, July 21.
On 20 July, Patrick Sawyer, the index case now thought to have brought EVD into Nigeria,
was admitted into the hospital where Ameyo worked.
On 21 July, I attended the appointment as agreed. She had completed the rounds where she
reviewed the cases, including Mr. Sawyer. She saw me shortly after mid-day. As always, it
was professional and detailed. Unknown to me, Sawyer was already in the hospital. Unknown
to her, he was already terminally symptomatic with EVD. We managed on that day to do my
review and, curiously in hind-sight, fit in a conversation about life, death and dying.
As she would herself later narrate with her Chief Medical Director, Dr Benjy Ohiaeri, Mr.
Sawyer, on admission “denied having been in contact with any person with EVD at home, in
any hospital or at any burial.” So, on 21 July, Mr. Sawyer was being managed for Malaria. He
had tested positive for Malaria parasites.
It would take another day before the full possibility would hit home. By then, she’d probably
already had fatal exposure to the virus.
But, once she struck upon the possibility that Mr. Sawyer was EVD-positive, Ameyo
“immediately isolated/quarantined the patient, commenced barrier nursing and simultaneously
contacted the Lagos State Ministry of Health and the Federal Ministry of Health to enquire
where further laboratory tests could be performed as we had a high index of suspicion of
possible Ebola Virus Disease. We refused for him to be let out of the hospital in spite of
intense pressure.” Her suspicions proved correct.
That is Ameyo! If the occasion demanded it, she could be martial with care and sweeping in
her command. She had earned her right to calibrated authority.
The consequences could have been unfathomable if Mr. Sawyer had ended up in a General
Hospital, for instance. It required someone with her capabilities and pedigree to be able to
take the measures needed to firewall Mr. Sawyer and limit the contamination that he would
have inflicted. For that, she paid with her life.
Ameyo became a doctor at 25. She had been my personal and family doctor for over 15 years.
Her roots were both deep and grand. She is one of the few Nigerians the face of whose recent
ancestor adorns one of our currency denominations. Her Great-Grand Father, Herbert
Macaulay, is one of the most celebrated founders of modern Nigeria. Her father was himself a
distinguished physician, academic and university administrator of considerable distinction.
Not that any of this mattered much to her. When Ameyo qualified as a doctor in 1981, I was
still a kid in High School. Yet, I could get away with calling her “Ameyo”. To many of the
children, she was “Auntie Ameyo”. She simply wanted to get things done, and done right.
That was important to her: doing things right. In her field, Ameyo took no prisoners and
tolerated no half measures. If you came to her with issues outside her field, she knew the
experts to. If you showed up hoping to get worshipped, you were in the wrong shrine.
There was something about her directness, professionalism, commitment to knowledge and
curiosity, and irreverence that made Ameyo deserving of respect well beyond the calling of the
cloth. She loved her calling and was totally dedicated to it.
When my kid brother died in June 2006, my Dad suffered terribly. She took charge of his
management and inspired him to re-discover joie de vivre . While she battled for her life this
past week and more, my Mum and Dad in Imo State joined in the legion of Nigerians who
prayed and wished for a different ending. Like many people who had passed through her,
Dad’s testimony is quite simple: “that woman saved my life!”
Nigeria is lucky that Mr. Sawyer ended up in the care of Dr. Ameyo Stella Adadevoh and the
team she led. A less able lead or a less dedicated team could have let itself and the country
down.
Unlike many of her peers, Ameyo didn’t play god. Nor did she celebrate not having read any
medical journal after Medical School. On the contrary, she knew her specialty and invested
heavily in being up to date with the latest journals and skills in it. She was always honest
about where the limits of her skills lay and would happily refer cases to colleagues with the
requisite specialty whether in or outside Nigeria. She had one heck of a professional Rolodex!
All of us who had the privilege of ever having been managed or attended to by her would
testify that this was a professional of exceptional thoughtfulness, ability, diligence, and
application. The many colleagues whom she mentored or supported would too. We’ve all lost
an outstanding person, support, redoubt, and professional.
Ameyo had one of the sharpest minds you’d ever meet. She was at home discussing
experimental physics, molecular biology, public health, lip-stick, the science behind bra-sizes,
or different genres of music. She loved life. She was the mother of a son whom she loved
more than life itself and lived with a mother to whom she was devoted. The void she leaves
behind cannot be filled. They deserve our thoughts, care and prayers.
Because of the circumstances of her passing, there may be no grave to memorialise Ameyo.
This is why we must give careful thought to how to do so. We must hold up and celebrate
her example of selfless professionalism to the point of death. And, as a people, we must be
grateful that someone like her is still in supply in our country.
Ameyo always had the Hippocratic Oath hung in front of her on the left wall in her consulting
room, just beside her certificate. I once asked her why? She said if you don’t believe (in) it
you shouldn’t be here. She died true to her oath and calling. Our country owes her a debt we
can never repay. She was truly and exceptionally special.


Source: www.thecable.ng

Rest in peace Doc.

May her sins be forgiven and May the chief of the universe, the Almighty and most high God, have greater regard for her good deeds.

This woman and the other dead members of her team would, probably still be alive if we hac(have) a RESPONSIBLE and RESPONSIVE FG. If we didn't have a reactionary govt at the centre as we do Mr SAWYER would not have passed our airport, even if we excuse the Nigerian commission in Liberia for clearing him. We have an FG that claimed in April that Nigeria was fully prepared against Ebola yet the airports lacked Ebola detecting capacity and capability.

It's really a shame. Most annoying.

The Liberian government is her primary killer, followed by Nigerian border agency and health care system that has nothing in place to protect the country from killer virus and biological attacks. It is sad,that man could not have got to her without them not having a clue of what could be wrong with him,especially when it is obvious right on the plane that he is a Liberian and from a country with known deadly epidemic.

What happened to the air crew and the passengers on that faithful plane? How did they escape it?

Cheta Nwanze wrote this very moving piece - "Chxta's World
- That we may not forget - Stella Adadevoh and Justina
Ejelonu" - August 20, 2014
There's a statue in Yaba, Lagos, of a man, whom many in
Nigeria have forgotten. His family never have. And now, we
all have a chance to remember him, and in a way, to honour
him. He is the man on our one Naira coin.
Herbert Olayinka Samuel Heelas Badmus Macaulay, had a
daughter, Sarah Idowu Abigail, who would get married and
give birth to a son, Babatunde Kwaku Adadevoh. Babatunde
would grow up to become a doctor, and have kids of his
own. One of these children, Stella Ameyo, became, like her
father, a doctor.
She would go on to work at a hospital in Obalende, Lagos,
First Consultant Hospital, not very far from where her
famous ancestor was once imprisoned by the British. It was
to be at that that place of work that Stella Ameyo was to
perform an act that would save the lives of possibly
hundreds of thousands, and sacrifice her own in return.
On July 20, 2014, a patient was wheeled in from the Murtala
Muhammed International Airport. Patrick Sawyer, the patient,
had shown signs of high fever during his flight from
Monrovia, and was taken straight from the airport to the
hospital. By the next day, his condition had deteriorated, and
he was immediately placed under observation, while his
blood sample was taken, and sent for tests. That same day,
Mr. Sawyer insisted, with the help of officials of the Liberian
Embassy, on being discharged. Stella Ameyo, as supervising
doctor, stood her ground that he should not leave the
hospital. It was at that point, while reinserting his needles,
that she came in contact with him, and in effect signed her
own death warrant. One of her junior colleagues, Justina Obi
Ejelonu, who had the day before when Sawyer was brought
in, helped in checking him, also assisted in placing him back
in care. Like Stella Ameyo Adadevoh, Justina Obi Ejelonu, has
passed away.
There is no other word to describe the actions of both
women, and indeed their entire facility. In preventing the
escape of this patient who had insisted on leaving, in his
condition, for Calabar, 750 kilometres away, both women
saved countless lives. What if Mr. Sawyer had decided that
the best way to go to Calabar was to go to Jibowu and take
a bus? Even if he'd chosen to go by air, which would have
made his fellow passengers that much easier to trace, the
potential damage is incalculable.
The most tragic part of the passing of both women is that
they cannot even be buried decently, and with all the respect
that their sacrifice demands. The very bug that cut them
down is so virulent, so unforgiving, that even that honour,
will be deprived them.
The sacrifice that Dr. Adadevoh and Nurse Ejelonu have
made is the highest form of sacrifice that any man, or
woman, can make for his, or her, fellow human being. It is
said that there is no greater love than to lay down your life
for your friend. Both women, and their colleague, put their
lives on the line for 170 million of their fellow citizens, many
of whom do not even understand the concept of what it
means to be a citizen. The very least that Nigeria can do in
appreciation, is to honour them. I have a suggestion for such
an honour, and not some meaningless title or coin which will
soon fall out of use. Nigeria should declare August 19 each
year a national holiday, and in the names of both women.
That way, some Nigerian child in six decades can ask his
parent, "Mummy, who is Stella Ameyo Adadevoh?" And the
parent can reply, "That woman saved my life, and the lives of
all of us". It is the least we can do. It is the least we should
do.
http://ynaija.us7.list-manage.com/track/click?u=378883b8
ff3711724a800de12&id=159d2d5314&e=474476a894

Eternal rest grant unto them oh Lord
And let Your perpetual light shine upon them.
May the souls of Mrs. Stella Ameyo Adadevoh, Justina Ejelonu and the souls of all the faithful departed,
Through the mercy of GOD, rest in peace.
Amen

@op
I can testify to all you said. I first got to know her in secondary school where she stood out as an outstanding student. Much later in life she was our family doctor for years. I truly appreciate her professional way of doing things but in a compassionate way. These last few days I've been reminiscing on her medical advice on various occasions and the positive results. She was always ready to call in other professionals when necessary. I just feel so heartbroken!

Ameyo, wonderful lady, rest in perfect peace.