Grateful for the opportunity to share my research at the 3rd African Conference on Women & HIV in Cape Town.
Special thanks to those who supported this journey.
@oluwatoyin_oki@doctorjohnj@ebiereoki
Thanks to the Women & HIV committee for inspiring and connecting researchers @womenandhiv
On World Malaria Day, it is important to also reflect on how malaria intersects with HIV, especially in Afrikan settings where healthcare systems are often overstretched.
People living with HIV (PLWHIV) are significantly more vulnerable to malaria because HIV weakens the immune system, making it harder for the body to fight off infections. In practice, this means they are more likely to get malaria, more likely to develop severe symptoms, and more likely to experience complications and prolonged illness.
In many parts of Afrika, this risk is worsened by delayed diagnosis, limited access to consistent antiretroviral treatment, shortage of malaria testing, and overburdened health facilities. For some, treatment comes late or not at all, turning what is usually a treatable illness into something far more dangerous.
This creates a double burden: living with HIV that already requires lifelong care, while also facing a preventable infection that becomes more aggressive in weakened immune systems.
For PLWHIV, malaria is not just a seasonal illness. In many cases, it becomes a repeated, severe, and exhausting health struggle shaped not only by biology, but by inequality in access to care.
#worldmalariaday #hivawareness #healthcarematters
Malaria is something many of us grew up around, but that doesn’t make it less dangerous. It is often treated as something familiar in our environment, yet it is still a disease that claims lives when it is not taken seriously.
For those who have lost loved ones or experienced how severe malaria can become, we understand that it is far more than a “minor illness.”
What may begin as fever, headache, or fatigue can quickly escalate into something life-threatening if not treated early.
We cannot afford to keep normalising what is preventable. Awareness, timely treatment, and early action save lives.
20 years today.
My daddy was an infantry soldier, and most of my memories of him are in uniform. That was his life.
I didn’t get to see him often, but he always wrote to us and made time to be with us whenever he could.
He was committed to what he believed in, fighting for his country and for Afrika.
My daddy is my hero.
He was loved by many and carried himself with strength and pride. But to me, I remember the little things too, especially his hands, strong, coal-like, and calm. He loved domestic chores, and he loved me and my mummy deeply.
My name, Datarè, says everything about him. It means “father’s love.”
He shaped so much of who I am today, my love for Afrika, the way I think, and what I stand for.
This is me honouring him, 20 years later.
20 slides for a life that meant so much.
Forever proud to be your daughter.
Rest well, Daddy.
I wore my story.
V shaped edges tell of the shark, sacred guide of my Ijaw bloodline.
Twirls echo the restless waves we come from.
Quadrangles carry fourfold strength, the foundation of kin and cosmos.
Dots linger like my Ijaw ancestors.
Red. Yellow. Green. Black. Orange.
Not just colours, but a map of where I stand in Afrika’s vast soul.
Orange holds the fire, joy, transformation, and the fullness of becoming.
This wasn’t just a look, it was a memory worn forward.
