The prevalence of sickle cell disease is changing how Nigerians date, marry and plan their lives. And as genetic testing becomes more common, prospective parents across the world will face similar questions
Subomi Mabogunje fell for Nkechi Egonu within hours of meeting her in 2004. They were working at a state-run TV station in Ijebu Ode, a trading hub in south-west Nigeria. While Subomi was thin and bespectacled, Nkechi was petite and voluptuous, with her hair in a ballerina bun, and coldly immune to the stares that trailed her across the office. Her swaggering personality was also the opposite of his reserved one, and she was quickly promoted to programme presenter. She was the most exciting person, Subomi felt, who had ever walked into his home town.
He found the courage to speak to Nkechi one weekend when they were assigned to do community service, clearing overgrown grasses near a government building. Subomi went, despite his habitual avoidance of strenuous physical activity. “You’re too good for this kind of work, ehe?” Nkechi teased. With his hollow cheekbones, frail body and elongated fingers, Subomi was clearly what some uncharitable onlookers would call a “sickler” – one of up to 6 million people in Nigeria with sickle cell disease (SCD), a group of inherited blood disorders that turn red blood cells from soft discs into rigid crescents, leading to blood clots, pain episodes called “crises” and serious complications in most major organs. But Nkechi never shied away from him. Within a few weeks of their first conversation, they were inseparable.
About Author
More Stories
Bizarre Australian mole even more unusual than first thought, new research reveals
Male mosquitoes to be genetically engineered to poison females with semen in Australian research
Breakthrough drugs herald ‘new era’ in battle against dementia, experts predict