Spotlight Author: Angel Afemikhe

Angel Afemikhe is a student of English and Literary Studies, a creative and content writer. She’s passionate about mental health advocacy, poetry, and storytelling. She writes with the aim of shedding light on human experiences often left ignored and unspoken.

“I perfectly resonate with health equity in the sense that I’m a product of a society in which health equity is a privilege: patients lying on the cold floor waiting to be attended to, some sent home for payment imbalance, inaccessible to any healthcare service, rude medical practitioners, etc.

With my skills and experience, I create awareness on health issues like these, especially for people living in rural areas. However, I can’t do it alone.

It’s a breakthrough having organizations like ProjectCURA, who speak up through various platforms. They bridge the gap, locate these specific people, hear their stories, and help out any way they can. This way, the work is not a burden but, a heartfelt decision of humanity to be humane.”

Angel had no prior connection to Project CURA when she found us, yet she saw our work one day, chose to stand beside it, and has supported us since. That’s what makes it so special to now share her voice as a contributing author!

We hope her words inspire you as much as she has inspired us.

Painkillers

Two doses in the palm of my hands, they swell,

Eagerly they wait to swallow me whole,

I scurry, scurry past white room til lights grow dim,

They scurry in my palms, pick one, then two, like the “go” in a game,

Peering into my eyes, like they are what they seem.

But for the headache, I could kill for a cup of shake,

And the slumber—a morning rain,

The bellyache—a large size barbeque,

And the weariness—a palm  fused in mine.

Two doses aren’t worth the while,

But they think it’s well, until they bid me farewell,

Offices sneeze, clocks tick, counting the miracles these doses are meant to perform,

Doctors rise, nurses fall, but with me, there’s no reform.

At the end, two doses killed the pain, but could not kill the death.

When Painkillers Can’t Reach the Real Pain

In healthcare, pain is often treated as a problem that can be  erased quickly. For a headache, one could easily take pain relief. For insomnia or a sleepless night, try a sedative. But what happens when the pain is not just in the body?

Healthcare equity means recognizing that mental health deserves the same urgency, funding, and compassion as physical health. And it means showing care and listening, really listening, when someone says, “You don’t know how I feel. This pain runs deeper than you think.” Because sometimes, two doses can kill the pain, but not the death inside.

The poem, PAINKILLERS speaks to this gap. The “two doses” are more than medication. They represent the quick fixes we are offered when the root cause of our suffering is deeper: isolation, hunger, stress, community, burnout, grief, or untreated mental illness. In the poem, the narrator longs not for another prescription, but to identify the root of the problem. For the comfort, human connection, and relief that cannot be swallowed from a bottle.

For many, especially in underserved communities, the mental health crisis  is not about the absence of treatment entirely, but the absence of the right kind of treatment. Emotional and psychological pain cannot be numbed into non-existence with medication alone. Access to culturally competent therapy, safe community spaces, and patient-centered care is as vital as any drug in the cabinet.