Nairobi Woman’s Warning After Ordeal with Cosmetic Surgery in Turkey

“As I sat in the boarding lounge, anxiously clutching my passport and boarding pass, it felt as if my life depended on them. After months of planning, the day had finally arrived. 2024 was meant to be my year. Yes, I know we all say that every year, but this time I truly meant it. This was the year I would focus on myself – eating right, hitting the gym, seeing a therapist, and finally undergoing liposuction.

“I was already a mother to my little one, my rainbow baby, who was growing up fast and thriving in kindergarten. I couldn’t have asked for more. My career in advertising was also on the rise, though the industry can be quite harsh.

“After losing my baby weight, I had some areas that needed attention, especially around my belly. After some research, liposuction seemed like the answer. I can’t quite remember how I decided on Turkey as my destination, perhaps a recommendation from a friend? Before I knew it, I was added to a support WhatsApp group filled with women from West, Southern and Central Africa, as well as Europe, all traveling to Turkey for cosmetic surgery. Surprisingly, I was the only Kenyan in the group at the time, which made me feel somewhat lonely. Nevertheless, I was determined; nothing would change my mind. The enticingly low prices for surgery fuelled my excitement, and not even them asking me to pay the USD 10,000 fees in cash, made me think twice about my decision.

“The gaps in my preparation were glaring, but I had already invested in airfare, so I felt I had no choice but to go through with the surgery.

My Turkish Ordeal

“Upon arriving in Turkey, I found no one at the airport to greet me, and I was required to stay in a hotel near the hospital, which I had to pay for myself. My surgery was scheduled for the following morning at 8am. All communication was through the WhatsApp group. Thankfully, I had read up on pre-surgery preparations and stopped eating after dinner. I hardly slept that night, anxious about the procedure. I hadn’t met anyone from the hospital, undergone a consultation, or had any blood tests done. The gaps in my preparation were glaring, but I had already invested in airfare, so I felt I had no choice but to go through with the surgery.

“The first sign of action came at 10am. A man, whom I assumed was the surgeon, entered my room with a young woman who turned out to be a translator. After a brief exchange, she ordered me to undress, and the surgeon hurriedly marked my body, leaving me confused and anxious. I had clearly stated that I only wanted a 360 liposuction, focusing on my belly, flanks, and back, especially around the bra strap area. The translator’s final words were, “See you in theatre.” I was left in a daze, filled with questions about the surgery’s duration, recovery time, and when I could return home.

“Just then, another woman entered, asking for the payment. It felt surreal as I walked to the safe, opened it, and handed her the money. She waved goodbye and left.

My Post-Surgery Distress

“When I finally awoke, I struggled to open my eyes. Pain coursed through my body; I could hardly move. I was back in my room, clothes hanging in the wardrobe, and a wave of relief washed over me. But when I lifted the blanket, I saw bandages around my breasts and froze. If there was one part of my body I loved, it was my breasts. I had given specific instructions on what I wanted, and breast surgery was clearly not one of them. At this particular moment, I was filled with regret for traveling alone. I had no help at all, I had to drag myself to the washroom and care for myself. I clearly had not given this part of the journey some great thought. It was at this point I realized they hadn’t provided any medication – no antibiotics, in particular.

“By day two post-surgery, no one had checked on me. I called the hospital but received no response. By day three, I developed a fever, sensing something was wrong. I called the hospital again, threatening to expose my experience to the other women in the WhatsApp group if they didn’t send someone. Only then did a nurse finally arrive and confirm that I had an infection and was slightly dehydrated. She administered antibiotics and IV fluids, monitoring me for two additional days.

Undergoing Post-Surgery Aftercare in Nairobi

“As soon as I could stand, I was on the next flight back to Kenya. Nothing was going to stop me from getting back to my Motherland. I had researched plastic surgery options back home and was relieved to find several board-certified surgeons qualified to handle my complications. After an examination, my new Plastic Surgeon, Dr. Mukami Gathariki who practices at The Nairobi Sculpt Aesthetic Centre in Upper Hill Nairobi, explained that I had undergone a 360 liposuction with fat transfer to my hips and a breast lift – procedures I had not requested. The injected fat in my hip area was now infected.

“After an examination, my new Plastic Surgeon, Dr. Mukami Gathariki who practices at The Nairobi Sculpt Aesthetic Centre in Upper Hill Nairobi, explained that I had undergone a 360 liposuction with fat transfer to my hips and a breast lift – procedures I had not requested.

“Exhausted but grateful that the issue was identified, I was still furious that they had performed unauthorized procedures. She put me on high-dose antibiotics and provided excellent aftercare done by a nurse trained in that area. We had to drain the infected fat and conduct constant washouts until the infection cleared. It was a long and challenging road, but the surgeon and her team supported me until I fully recovered.

“Reflecting on that journey, there are several things I wish I had done differently. First and foremost, I should have sought a qualified, board-certified plastic surgeon in Kenya. There is immense value in having support from familiar faces, in a language I understood, surrounded by people who genuinely had my best interests at heart. I also regret succumbing to the stigma surrounding plastic surgery. I didn’t tell any friends about my plans for fear of judgment; I’m sure one of them would have advised against traveling abroad.

Lessons Learnt

“Ultimately, I ended up spending more money than I would have if I had the procedure done in Nairobi, factoring in flights, accommodation, and the expenses related to treating my complications, not to mention the emotional toll. The adage “cheap is expensive” proved true. When my surgeon asked if I would be willing to share my story, I hesitated, feeling embarrassed and perhaps traumatized. But if sharing my experience can prevent someone else from going through what I endured, then I will have done my part in the narrative we call life.

“It was not all gloom and doom though; through that experience I was able to learn that there are skilled plastic surgeons here in Kenya able to offer high quality medical care within our borders. More importantly, local surgeons better understand the cultural and social contexts of their patients, allowing for more personalized care and outcomes that align with patients’ needs and expectations. Finally, successful plastic surgery practices can help normalize the conversation around cosmetic procedures, leading to greater acceptance and understanding of the various reasons individuals may seek these services.”

Note: Much as the lady was willing to share her story, names have not been included as she still wishes to remain anonymous. We are grateful that she has now been able to recover fully, is confident about her body and can lead a fulfilling life through career and motherhood.