About Cura
A company that started in the queue, not the pitch deck
Cura exists because the same patient in a Nigerian primary health centre is asked to retell their history every time they sit down. The folder is missing. The last chemist visit is a guess. The community health worker has the story in a notebook that stays in a bag. We are building the living record those visits never get, and an assistant that is only allowed to speak from that record.
The story
Testimony Teniola started Cura from Ilorin — physiology first, then the household book, then the PHC posts that still open Friday from a verbal list. Ahmed Olaneye builds the desks. They put enrolment, symptom logs, medicines, and a short plan on a phone that already lives in a wrapper.
The MVP is live. It is not a national EHR. It is two desks on one record: the household book, and the PHC command that turns this week's outreach list into Friday's queue.
The mission
Give households a book that stays, and give the hospital a desk that can read it — so Friday starts with a queue, not a performance of memory.
We work toward PHC boards, NGO outreach desks, and state innovation teams who need something they can put in the field this quarter, then grow into SMS, offline sync, and local-language prompts.
How we decide
The record comes first
Advice that is not tied to a person's own symptoms and medicines is noise. We refuse to ship a chatbot that lectures a stranger.
Build for the post, not the brochure
A CHEW's Tuesday is a queue, a dying battery, and three notebooks. If Cura cannot sit in that day, it does not ship.
Say what we are not
Cura is not a hospital, not a prescription pad, and not a replacement for a clinician. It is the memory and the handover that those visits currently lack.
Stay in Nigeria
The first users, the first partners, and the first constraints are here. We will not sand the product down so it looks like a US wellness app.