Vrengzak Dayol, a practising nurse in the UK, has opened up about his personal experience of being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), sharing his story to raise awareness and inspire others.
I was always losing my stuff. My keys, my phone, my wallet, my sanity. People joked at how very forgetful I am for someone so young, I thought I was just scatterbrained and incapable of keeping track of anything. There were times I thought I had early onset dementia and I have googled things like “at what age does early onset dementia start ?“. I’d try to cast my mind back to my family tree to see which of my ancestors had dementia, I panicked when one study showed higher prevalence in the Fulani ethnic group of course I have Fulani blood
I can be so absent-minded even in important situations, my family thought it was hilarious, and I’d hear stuff like “Vreng, Walahi tsufan ka akwai labari “ or “how can someone be so smart yet so dumb at the same time”?
For as long as I can remember, my life felt like a sitcom, only without the laugh track to remind me when to chuckle at my own misfortunes.
Ah, school—the place where I consistently proved that the only thing consistent about me was my inconsistency. Picture this: one day, I was staring at a fluid balance chart during my OSCE exam in Belfast, and it might as well be done easily by a 5 year old. My brain takes one look and says, “Nope, not today!” I failed the exam in a spectacular fashion, I kid you not, it’s the easiest thing you’ll ever see. Don’t even get me started on how long it took me to pass reading module in IELTS.
But then, a few months later, it took me less than 3 weeks to tutor myself python including Pandas and matplotlib. I wondered how I went from failing the simplest OSCE to becoming a coding expertbut these kinds of ironies have been the theme throughout my life.
Speaking of spectacular failures, these symptoms meant I couldn’t hold down a job even if it were glued to my hands. Last year, I lost my job, the easiest job in world to be honest. Of course it was too boring I couldn’t focus. I spent several months in the glamorous world of unemployment, which included binge-watching documentaries about ancient civilizations and finally figuring out why making gote with brisket bones slaps better than with regular meat
My struggle wasn’t just academic or work-related. Socially, I was and I am still a misfit. I’ve never really felt understood even by people closest to me. I always knew there was something wrong with me, I just couldn’t place it, even for the fact I process emotions and information very differently. While others navigated their way through school, acing exams and breezing through tasks with ease, I was the one who couldn’t find my stuff, let alone complete it. My mind is like a television with a hundred channels playing at once, and I had no remote control.
From the outside, I looked like I had it all together. I had unconsciously developed coping strategies that masked my quirks so well that even I was fooled. Here’s how I became the stealthy strategist, all while looking like the poster child of normalcy.
Sometimes last year while chatting casually with my oyibo colleague about how I just found out I learn better in reverse. Like how I prefer to see the bigger picture of things and working my way backwards to learn. I said It’s as if my brain has a manual that reads: “First, observe the chaos, then figure out the details.” That conversation was the turning point of my life. Little did I know was blabbing all the symptoms of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) she knew too well.
When she told me I could be neurodivergent, a small part of me vexed. In my mind, I was like, “For this small jist wey I tell you, you wan insult me?” For weeks, I ignored all the materials she shared with me about ADHD and how to get help. When I finally, reluctantly, opened it after several weeks of procrastination, I almost cried. My legs were literally shaking from all the revelations I saw. I said to myself, “my whole life I thought I was just stupid.”
I was referred to see a doctor who then referred me to a specialist, and I was on a waiting list for over a year. I was recently diagnosed with spectrum disorder—ADHD with signs of overlapping Autism—and started on medication and cognitive behavioral therapy. Now I’m officially a disabled man in this Charlie yard. (I Can’t wait to start using those disabled parking privileges)
The realization hit me like a plot twist in a Nollywood movie. On one hand, I felt immense relief—finally, an explanation for my square-peg-in-a-round-hole life! On the other hand, I was disappointed in myself. I mean, I’m an experienced nurse, I’ve spent a whooping three and a half decades on this planet. You’d think I’d have figured it out by now.
In my defense, I always thought I knew what neurodivergence was. Turns out, I was as clueless as someone trying to use chopsticks for the first time. I thought I had it all sorted, but my brain had been playing hide and seek with me this whole time. So, there I was, a seasoned nurse who couldn’t diagnose himself if his life depended on it
But my journey isn’t just about personal triumph. I realized that my story could help others, especially in my community. Neurodivergence is still a relatively unknown concept in Nigeria and Jos especially. Too many people are struggling in silence, labeled as lazy or unintelligent, when they might just be neurodivergent like me. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), attention deficit hyperactivity disorder affects about 5% of children and 2.5% of adults worldwide.
Spectra Editor
