The Health Reforms That Earned the Aare Baasegun Title From Ekiti Communities

By Idowu Ephraim Faleye+2348132100608

Honours given by communities are rarely accidental. They usually come from lived experience, from what people see, feel, and benefit from in their daily lives. This is why the conferment of the chieftaincy title of Aare Baasegun of Iye-Ekiti on the current Commissioner for Health in Ekiti State- Dr. Oyebanji Filani- deserves more than casual mention. It is not just a ceremonial recognition. It is a clear message from the grassroots that health policies are no longer abstract ideas but real interventions that have touched lives across communities.

From the outset, the Commissioner approached health not as a political portfolio but as a human responsibility. Health is where government meets humanity most directly. It affects the poor more than the rich, the rural dweller more than the urban elite, and the vulnerable more than the powerful. Understanding this reality shaped the decisions taken in Ekiti’s health sector under his leadership.

For years, one of the major weaknesses of public healthcare was the sharp divide between urban and rural access. While city hospitals attracted attention, most people depended on primary health centres that were poorly equipped, understaffed, or abandoned. In many villages, these centres existed only in name. This gap meant that where a person lived often determined whether they lived or died.

The health reforms in Ekiti deliberately focused on correcting this imbalance. Primary healthcare was repositioned as the foundation of the system, not an afterthought. Rural health facilities received renewed attention through rehabilitation, equipment supply, and manpower deployment. Health workers were posted to areas that had long been underserved, bringing care closer to the people.

This shift made a visible difference. Communities that once travelled long distances for basic care began to access services within their locality. Pregnant women no longer had to take risky journeys before delivery. Elderly people found medical help closer to home. Children received immunisation in familiar environments. These are small changes individually, but together they define a functioning health system.

Beyond infrastructure, the policies focused on access and affordability. Healthcare was treated as a social good, not a luxury. Outreach programs were expanded to reach hard-to-reach communities, ensuring that geography no longer excluded people from care. Mobile health services and community-based interventions became more regular, especially in remote settlements.

Maternal and child health received special attention because of its impact on families and future generations. Antenatal care became more accessible, skilled birth attendance improved, and immunisation coverage expanded. These efforts were not driven by headlines but by the quiet understanding that healthy mothers and children form the backbone of any society.

Preventive healthcare also gained ground. Health education and early intervention were strengthened to reduce avoidable illnesses. Communities were engaged on basic hygiene, early symptoms of diseases, and the importance of seeking care on time. This approach helped shift healthcare from crisis response to prevention, saving lives before emergencies occurred.

A defining feature of the reforms was community engagement. Traditional rulers, community leaders, and local stakeholders were treated as partners rather than spectators. Their involvement improved trust, acceptance, and participation in health programs. When communities understand and own health interventions, success becomes easier and more sustainable.

Traditional institutions played a critical role in mobilising people for immunisation, outreach programs, and health campaigns. They also served as feedback channels, helping government understand local realities. This two-way relationship ensured that policies were not only designed well but implemented effectively.

It is within this framework that the chieftaincy title of Aare Baasegun of Iye-Ekiti becomes deeply symbolic. In Yoruba culture, such titles are not awarded lightly. They are reserved for individuals whose contributions have made a meaningful difference to communal life. When a community bestows a title, it is often because they have felt the impact directly.

The honour was not politically induced nor ceremonially convenient. It emerged organically from appreciation. The people of Iye-Ekiti recognised that healthcare in their community had improved, access had widened, and attention had reached the grassroots. The title became a public affirmation that governance had touched humanity.

The meaning of Aare Baasegun aligns naturally with the role of a health leader. It speaks to service, protection, and responsibility to the people. In this sense, the title was not just symbolic but descriptive of the work already done. It reflected a relationship built on trust and results rather than rhetoric.

This recognition carries a broader lesson for public service. It shows that when policies are people-centred, appreciation follows without coercion. It also reminds public officials that real validation comes from communities, not from press statements or official commendations.

For Ekiti State, the honour signals a positive direction for healthcare governance. It confirms that reforms rooted in equity, access, and compassion can restore confidence in public institutions. It also sets a benchmark for leadership across sectors, showing that impact matters more than visibility.

The reforms have laid a strong foundation, but sustainability remains key. Healthcare is dynamic, and progress must be protected through continuity and commitment. The same grassroots focus that delivered results must remain central to future planning and implementation.

The Aare Baasegun title is therefore both a reward and a responsibility. It acknowledges past service while reminding all stakeholders that the people are watching, feeling, and responding to governance outcomes. It reinforces the idea that leadership is most powerful when it improves everyday life.

In the end, this moment stands as a quiet but powerful testimony to what effective governance looks like. Policies moved from paper to practice. Healthcare reached villages and remote communities. Lives were improved. And recognition came from the people themselves.

This is the essence of meaningful public service. It does not announce itself loudly. It works patiently, reaches deeply, and earns trust over time. When history reflects on this period in Ekiti’s health sector, it will remember not just the reforms, but the communities whose gratitude found expression in honour.

*Idowu Ephraim Faleye writes from Ado-Ekiti*