Breaking Free From Limiting Labels | Dr. Elizabeth Igaga's Story

You see, until recently, when I felt my big feelings, it was impossible not to cry. Somewhere along the way, my parents realized that they had been blessed with a baby girl who cried frequently and inconsolably, a trait that I carried from my childhood into my early adulthood. Now, in many African homes, crying is interpreted as weakness and so you can imagine how many times I heard the phrase, ‘Stop crying or I will give you a reason to cry.’  The thing with these labels is that eventually, they will start to define you.  

This label combined with the devastating loss of my father, would be a perfect recipe for fueling a narrative filled with people pleasing, imposter syndrome and me dimming my shine so that I could fit in and survive. So I went about life, trying to find a solution to this ‘weakness’ and failing miserably. This narrative brought with it a silent ache, a longing for more that was compounded by the knowledge that I was made for more. I couldn’t imagine turning sixty, and this was all I had to show for it. I started to do some self-work, read a bit more about things outside my specialty, listened to the occasional podcast, scoured social media for people whose profiles looked interesting and unknowingly started to rebuild, slowly.

Fast forward to the year 2022. I was severely burnt out, exhausted, unfulfilled, high functioning on autopilot and processing some life-changing news about a treasured family member’s health. I’d been working 7 days a week for more 12 hours at a time for months, and yet, despite all this I had just been told that I wasn’t visible enough!  I remember sitting in the car, crying, and pondering on the question, is this it? Then there it was! The opportunity to cut through the fear, the rare chance to change my path and take the unconventional role. No one I know from my side of the world had done this before. I had a decision to make, to venture into the unknown, unclear, what my career journey would look like or to remain in the safe, familiar and predictable space, the operating room. I am privileged to have few wise owls around me, who are truth tellers as well. Their collective message:  You have put the work in, and it is time. There should be no dissonance. So, I did the wise thing, I went ahead to be brave and face the fear of the unknown head on.

No one prepares you for the emotions that flood your soul when you choose the path less trodden. Grief, the least expected emotion, had the strongest presence. I grieved the loss of the person that I was, while embracing the brave and bold person that I was becoming. I was finally free! Free of all the narratives that weighed me down for decades, labels that stole opportunity away from me. This freedom came with curiosity, ability to fail forward and to do things afraid. A whole new and different world was now open to me to explore.  If I had told anyone what I was going to do, I can assure you there would have been no pictures. Sky diving was more than a leap to me. This moment was a defining one; I jumped so I could fly and fly I did. The views? Stunning. The feeling? Exhilarating and the aftermath? Freeing and the dawn of a new beginning.

I went from a young timid introvert, engrossed in the world of anaesthesiology, comfortable and yet sad sitting behind the proverbial curtain, to leading global safety initiatives at the world’s largest cleft focused  charity. My first speech on the global stage was titled  ‘You have earned your place in the room.’  And for the first time, it made sense.  The pride I felt representing our continent Africa on world stages proved what I had known all along. I was made for more.  I was the one.

Every 3 minutes, a child with a cleft lip and/or palate is born. And yet cleft affected people are often forgotten, neglected, stigmatized, isolated and labelled outcasts. These children are very close to my heart because I have experienced first hand the damage that unfounded labels can cause.  Left untreated, the repercussions are dire, worst case scenarios being severe malnutrition and death. I serve over 100,000 cleft affected children across the globe annually, working to make sure that each of them has access to safe and high quality treatment despite their vulnerabilities or where they are located. This means speaking up to make sure that Africa is heard at the decision-making tables and that more Africa friendly policies are formulated in the anesthesia and surgical space.

Mine is a story of learning and unlearning, tearing down and building back up and doing hard things well. This journey has taught me resilience, growth, patience, that the dots make sense when you look back and that pain has purpose. I still cry, A LOT. But I have learnt that there is strength in my tears, and in me feeling my feelings.  A wise person once said, ‘You can’t be what you can’t see!’ So, I have made the decision to take up space, be visible and be the person I needed when I was in the trenches.  To use my story, to help others breathe easier. Each of us carries labels, and we have a choice to decide what to do with those labels. The only way we will transform Africa into the continent we desire and deserve is to begin with inner transformation. What leap will you take to transform your world?

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to reintroduce myself! I am Elizabeth Igaga, captain of my own ship and master of my own fate. Thank you!