I spent years wondering what it feels like to scratch my nose — Borno polio survivor

I spent years wondering what it feels like to scratch my nose — Borno polio survivor

A polio survivor in Borno State, Adama Yerima, has recounted her experience of living with the virus from childhood, saying she has spent years wondering what it feels like to scratch her nose or run in the rain, while urging parents to safeguard their children by ensuring they are vaccinated.

The survivor shared the emotional message while delivering a speech during a round-table media dialogue organised by the United Nations Children’s Fund and the Borno State Primary Health Care Development Board on Friday in Maiduguri, as part of activities to commemorate the 2026 World Immunisation Week.

She highlighted the difficulty of turning her head, lifting her hands to wave at others, and walking freely, describing the condition as one that can be avoided if parents stop seeing vaccines as poison.

She said, “Look at me. I am not an illustration in a history book. I am not a black-and-white photograph from 1955. I am your neighbour. I am someone’s child. And I am what a virus leaves behind when we are too late.

“I breathe today because my lungs still work, barely. But I cannot lift my hand to wave at you. I cannot turn my head to see the person beside me. And I cannot walk to the podium. I was carried here — by a machine, by a chair, and by the hands of others. Why? Because I met the poliovirus before I met the vaccine,” she said.

While describing her experience, Yerima added, “It is not a fever that passes. It is not a rash that fades. It is a thief that climbs up your spine and cuts the wires to your arms, your legs, your diaphragm. It leaves you awake, aware, and imprisoned inside your own flesh.”

“I am telling you this during World Immunisation Week 2026 not to frighten you, but to wake you up. Because I hear the whispers. I see the social media posts: ‘Polio is gone.’ ‘The risk is zero.’ ‘Vaccines have side effects,’” she recounted.

She further stressed, “Let me be very clear: The side effect of not vaccinating is me. The side effect of hesitation is a child learning to breathe through a hole in their throat. The side effect of delay is a generation of quadriplegics filling wards we have long since closed.”

Yerima described the vaccine drops as a miracle that may taste bitter but save lives and futures.

“When you hold your child for vaccination, you are not ‘injecting poison.’ You are building a wall. You are telling the virus, ‘Not this house. Not this street. Not this generation.’

“I have spent decades looking at the ceiling. I have spent decades wondering what it feels like to hold a coffee cup, to scratch my own nose, or to run in the rain. Do not let another child ask that question,” she added.

She urged parents not to hinder the vaccine but the virus.

“Roll up your sleeve. Open your mouth for the drops. And if you see a parent who is afraid, show them my photo. Show them the wheelchair. And ask them: Which risk are you actually afraid of?” she said.

Speaking earlier, the Director of Disease Control and Immunisation, Borno State Primary Health Care Development Board, said the state government, in partnership with UNICEF, had intensified efforts to ensure no child is left behind, including those in hard-to-reach locations.

“Borno is one of the states most affected by insurgency. We have come up with strategies to ensure children in hard-to-reach areas are vaccinated. One of the strategies is using the Civilian Joint Task Force. We use them to accompany health teams so they can reach children in partially inaccessible areas.

“We also have a programme called RIG designed to reach children in inaccessible settlements. Here, we use the military to vaccinate children. We engaged them for advocacy, trained them, and then provided vaccines so they can reach those areas,” she added.