Breast cancer is widely perceived as a woman’s disease, leaving men vulnerable and unaware. For Omonade Jacob Ochuko, that misconception became a devastating reality. He never imagined that a small lump in his chest could turn his life upside down, bringing pain, fear, and isolation he wasn’t prepared for. PATIENCE IVIE IHEJIRIKA, writes that the stigma, the shock, and the uncertainty of what the future might hold have made every step of his journey both physically and emotionally excruciating.
When 50-year-old Omonade Jacob Ochuko first felt a tiny lump in his right breast eight years ago, he dismissed it as nothing serious, just one of those unexplained swellings that would disappear with time. He was healthy, busy with work, and raising a young family, breast cancer was the last thing on his mind. “I didn’t pay attention to it at all. I didn’t even think men had breast cancer,” he recalled, a mix of disbelief and regret still etched on his face.
But the lump did not go away. Instead, it grew, bringing with it a gnawing pain and the quiet anxiety that comes with the unknown. The trauma of the diagnosis, combined with the cutting remarks and shocked expressions of those who heard his story, made the ordeal even more isolating. “I kept asking myself, why me? I thought breast cancer was only for women,” he said, his voice trembling. Each hospital visit reminded him of how invisible male breast cancer remains, leaving men like him to navigate fear, stigma, and uncertainty largely on their own.
The journey was not just physical but deeply emotional. There were nights of sleepless worry, moments of shame, and the heavy burden of explaining to friends and family a disease they could barely associate with men. Yet through it all, Ochuko began to find a quiet resilience. Facing a condition society rarely acknowledges in men forced him to confront his fears head-on and, ultimately, to become an unlikely advocate for awareness, hoping his story might save others from the shock, isolation, and pain he endured.
Omonade said that even his sister, a medical doctor, did not initially suspect breast cancer when he first showed her the lump in 2024. By then, the once-small growth had begun to change, dark patches appeared on the skin and its size slowly increased, yet there was still no sense of urgency. It was not until one morning, as he dressed for work, that his wife noticed the change. “This thing is growing. This is not how it was before,” she told him.
That moment, he said, was when fear set in. Pressed down by life’s responsibilities, Omonade delayed seeking care until July 2024, when he finally entered what would become a long, exhausting journey through Nigeria’s health system, one that would change his life forever.
At the National Hospital Abuja, Omonade said he went through endless tests: blood work, imaging scans, image-guided biopsy, CT scans and each procedure required weeks of waiting.
On September 9, 2024, Omonade’s life changed. He held the paper in his hand, the histology result confirming breast cancer. Omonade recalled standing in the hospital walkway, the world blurring around him. “I didn’t know when tears started dropping. I wasn’t just crying, it felt like thinking aloud in tears,” he said quietly.
“I needed someone I could be vulnerable with. My wife was praying it would not be cancer. I didn’t know how to tell her,” he explained.
He said but she eventually saw the report, shared it with doctor friends and they told her what it meant. “In three days, my wife was like someone losing life. It broke her,” he said.
Omonade said his oncologist explained that he had an aggressive type of breast cancer, one that required equally aggressive treatment. According to him, the recommended drug was a targeted therapy costing N2.3 million per dose, administered every three weeks. His chemotherapy cost N2,450,000 each cycle. CT scans cost N270,000 each, and he had to repeat them multiple times.
He recalled suffering multiple episodes of severe crisis, including one night at 2:30 a.m. when he collapsed at home. He said his wife screamed for help, their baby cried, and they struggled to get him to a hospital. A neighbour’s pure-water truck became the emergency ambulance that carried him to a point and a motorcycle completed the journey before a car finally took him to a private hospital in Nyanya.
Omonade, who is planning to go for the second phase of his treatment said he has turned his pain into advocacy, writing a cancer awareness song and working toward establishing a foundation focused specifically on the real needs of cancer patients, a need he believes is grossly underserved.
Breast cancer is often spoken about as a woman’s disease, a battle waged by mothers, daughters, and sisters. Rarely do people stop to think that men, too, can be struck by the same ruthless illness.
Shedding more light on breast cancer in men, the President of the Nigerian Cancer Society (NCS), Prof. Abidemi Omonisi, said male breast cancer, though rare, is more aggressive and deadlier than cases found in women.
Prof. Omonisi told LEADERSHIP Sunday that the general belief that breast cancer is a disease affecting only women is misleading, stressing that men also develop the disease and often die faster because they present late.
“The impression people have is that breast cancer is only a woman’s disease. Truly, most cases are diagnosed in women, but men also have breast cancer. The cases are fewer, but when they occur in men, they are much more aggressive and kill faster,” he said.
He noted that treatment protocols for males and females are similar, but outcomes for men are generally poorer because the disease tends to be detected at very advanced stages.
Speaking on cancer care infrastructure, Omonisi said Nigeria now has at least 10 functional radiotherapy machines nationwide, a significant improvement from years ago when many patients had to travel abroad for treatment.
He noted that more West Africans are now visiting Nigeria for radiotherapy, describing the development as a form of “reverse medical tourism.”
However, he warned that the progress could be undermined by worsening shortages in oncology manpower.
Omonade’s story reflects the struggles of thousands of Nigerians fighting cancer as late diagnosis, financial hardship, stigma, and limited access to specialised care remain as challenges.
However, the federal government has unveiled two cancer policy documents: The National Nuclear Medicine Policy & Strategic Plan (the country’s first) and the National Cancer Control Plan (NCCP) 2026–2030.
The Minister of State for Health and Social Welfare, Dr. Iziaq Salako, revealed a stronger national focus on prevention, screening, and early detection.
According to him, eight preventive oncology clinics are now fully operational across the country.
For survivors like Omonade, government policies are welcome but not enough. “Cancer patients need support; mental, emotional, financial, and caregivers need support too,” he said.
He appealed to the government to ease the financial burden of treatment, expand awareness campaigns, and include male breast cancer in national conversations about early detection.
“If I had known men could get breast cancer, I would have removed that lump eight years ago. It would have saved me from this pain,” he said.
LEADERSHIP Sunday writes that ,Omonade’s story is a warning and a call to action. Lumps are not a women-only concern, and silence or delay can be deadly. Nigerian men and boys, just like women, must take changes in their bodies seriously and seek medical attention early, no matter how small or painless a lump may seem. Early detection saves lives, but only when fear, stigma and complacency are set aside.
His experience also exposes a deeper national challenge. For millions of Nigerians struggling daily to put food on the table, healthcare is often postponed until it becomes a crisis. This reality underscores the urgent need for stronger government support, affordable screening, accessible diagnostic services and functional health insurance that works for the poor. No Nigerian should have to choose between survival today and a chance at life tomorrow.
