By Douglas Ogbankwa Esq.
An average Nigerian hospital operates like a mortuary, just as an average Nigerian ambulance is essentially a casket in motion.
The recent tragedy shared by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie—the avoidable loss of her 21-month-old son—has once again exposed our comatose healthcare system. My heart goes out to her family.
Her story is a painful reminder of a chilling phrase: “May Nigeria not happen to you.” Sadly, “Nigeria” often happens in the places where we should feel safest.
In many Nigerian hospitals, it feels as though lives simply do not matter. If you watch videos of medical professionals in the United Kingdom or the United States, you see them literally running to save strangers. You see passion, vigour, and a desperate race against time. In Nigeria, that urgency is replaced by lethargy. For many, “Japa” (migration) is not just about seeking better pay; it is a run for their lives.
Our hospitals have become death centres rather than health centres. Medical degrees are being handed to people who lack the basic
human passion to save lives.
The lack of empathy is staggering. Many Nigerian nurses behave with a cold-bloodedness that is hard to watch. I have seen them stand by as patients slip away, showing no emotion and no professional desire to review what went wrong.
I experienced this horror personally.
In 2009, at Central Hospital in Benin City, I watched my father die while nurses chatted and laughed nearby about trivial things. To make matters worse, a resident doctor, through negligence, administered a sugar-concentrated drip instead of a salt-based one, killing my father instantly. Years later, my mother only survived because I had the influence to move her to a private doctor. In Nigeria, staying alive is no longer a right—it is a luxury reserved for those with the money and the “connections” to call a Medical Director personally.
When we call friends who are medics abroad, they don’t answer because they are busy saving lives. In Nigeria, health professionals “browse” their lives away on smartphones while patients die by the hour. We must adopt Western protocols: personal phones should be banned during shifts. When a patient dies here, the staff simply clears the body and dresses the bed for the next victim. They aren’t interested in the cause of death; they are only interested in your debt.
The Nigerian Medical Association (NMA) and the National Association of Nigerian Nurses and Midwives (NANNM) must urgently re-orientate their members.
We need a culture shift:
Save lives first: People should not die in queues while relatives pay for “hospital cards.”
Work during shifts: Night shifts should be for monitoring patients, not for night vigils or workplace romances.
Accountability: It is time for Nigerians to start suing for every act of medical negligence. Legal action is the only way to force this system into order.
If we do not demand better, our hospitals will remain nothing more than waiting rooms for the grave.
Douglas Ogbankwa Esq. is the Convener of the Security Situation Room (SSR). Reach him at douglasogbankwa@gmail.com
