By Tayo Ogunbiyi
There are some losses that time does not heal; it only teaches us how to live with the scar. I had watched someone I loved deeply confront a disease that seemed to have no mercy. I watched the fear, the uncertainty, the medical interventions, the desperate search for answers and, ultimately, the helplessness that comes when every effort appears incapable of stopping an advancing illness.
There are moments when a disease stops being a medical term and becomes a face. For me, cancer has a face. It is the face of someone I dearly loved. And today, as I watch the growing number of people being diagnosed with and dying from cancer, I cannot help but ask a painful question: How many more people must we lose before the world decides that enough is enough?
The recent death of veteran Nollywood actor, Taiwo Hassan, popularly known as Ogogo, has reopened that wound for many Nigerians.
Cancer is no longer simply a collection of diseases discussed in hospitals and medical conferences. It is one of the defining public-health challenges of our time. Global estimates for 2022 recorded close to 20 million new cancer cases and 9.7 million cancer deaths. Those numbers are staggering. But statistics can sometimes hide the real tragedy. Behind every million deaths is a collection of individual stories: a child who loses a mother, a husband who becomes a widower, parents who bury a son or daughter, families who spend their savings searching for treatment, and communities that lose people who still had years of contribution ahead of them.
That is why the global cancer conversation must move beyond statistics. We must talk about people. We must talk about prevention. We must talk about early diagnosis. We must talk about affordable treatment. We must talk about research. And above all, we must talk about equity.
The World Health Organisation’s 2026 Global Status Report on Cancer describes the worldwide cancer burden while highlighting the systemic challenges that continue to produce unequal outcomes. That inequality is particularly troubling for developing countries.
In many parts of Africa, cancer is frequently diagnosed when it is already advanced. By then, treatment becomes more complicated, more expensive and, in too many cases, less successful. This is where the world must change its strategy.
We should not wait for cancer to become Stage Four before we begin throwing everything at it. The battle against cancer should begin long before the cancer becomes visible.
Some of the major preventable risk factors of cancer include tobacco use, alcohol consumption, excess body weight, physical inactivity, unhealthy diets, air pollution, and exposure to ultraviolet radiation. Certain infections, including human papillomavirus and hepatitis viruses, also contribute significantly to cancer risk.
Therefore, children should grow up understanding the importance of healthy lifestyles. Schools should teach basic health literacy. Workplaces should encourage preventive health checks. Communities should have access to reliable information. Primary healthcare centres should become trusted points for health education, risk assessment and appropriate screening.
Governments across the world should also strengthen policies addressing tobacco, harmful alcohol consumption, air pollution and occupational hazards.
It is now quite clear that the war against cancer cannot be won by oncologists alone. The private sector has a role. Religious bodies have a role. Traditional institutions have a role. The media has a role. Families have a role. And individuals have a role.
Perhaps one of the most important lessons from the cancer crisis is the power of early detection. The WHO makes an important distinction between early diagnosis and screening.
Early diagnosis means recognising symptoms and getting patients assessed as quickly as possible. Screening involves testing people who may have no symptoms to identify cancer or precancerous changes before symptoms appear.
This distinction could save lives. A persistent lump should not simply be ignored. Unexplained bleeding should not automatically be attributed to stress. Unexplained weight loss deserves medical attention. Persistent changes in bowel or bladder habits should be investigated. A persistent cough or voice change should not be casually dismissed. Unusual or persistent pain deserves attention.
Sadly, cancer treatment can be expensive. This is perhaps one of the most uncomfortable parts of the conversation. Diagnosis can be expensive. Specialist consultations can be expensive. Chemotherapy, radiotherapy, surgery, targeted therapies, and supportive care can place enormous financial pressure on families. Trust me, this is true! For many, the cancer journey is therefore not only a medical battle. It is an economic battle.
As stated earlier, the deadly disease does not respect passports. Therefore, international institutions must support cancer control programmes in countries where resources are limited. Countries must invest in research and continuous public enlightenment campaigns.
After every cancer-induced death, we should ask a different question: What could have been done earlier? Not to blame the victim. Not to accuse the doctor. Not to bash the government. Not to create another controversy.
But to learn. Because every lesson that prevents another family from experiencing the same tragedy is a victory. We should allow some deaths to change public policy and perception.
Ogogo’s death should remind Nigerians that even a beloved national figure can reach the point where treatment becomes a desperate race against time.
Cancer does not only attack the person who has it. It attacks an entire family. It changes conversations. It changes finances. It changes plans. It changes relationships. It changes the meaning of tomorrow. Sometimes, it alters destinies.
If the world continues to act as if the next cancer death means nothing more than just a number, then the disease will remain one of humanity’s great challenges.
We may not prevent every case. We may not cure every patient. But we can prevent many cancers. But we can detect more cancers earlier. We can build more cancer specialist hospitals. We can treat more patients successfully. We can reduce suffering. We can make treatment more affordable.
And we can ensure that fewer families are forced to watch someone they love die while wondering whether something could have been done.
I know what it means to watch a deadly disease enter a home. I know what helplessness feels like. And perhaps that is why every new cancer death feels like more than news to me. It feels personal. But it should become personal to all of us.
For Ogogo’s family, the applause has stopped. For millions of families around the world, the cancer battle continues today.
We cannot bring back those we have lost. But we can decide that their deaths will not be meaningless. We can turn grief into prevention. We can turn fear into awareness. We can turn diagnosis into action. We can turn research into hope.
And we can turn the world’s fragmented response into a united front. Cancer may be one of humanity’s most formidable enemies, but humanity has something cancer does not have: the ability to unite, learn, innovate, prevent, and fight back. The time to unite against cancer is not tomorrow. It is now!
• Ogunbiyi is Director, Public Enlightenment, Ministry of Information & Strategy, Alausa, Ikeja

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