Nigeria’s Failing Health System: Emergency Care Gaps and Daily Loss of Lives

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By Olawore Opeyemi

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Tuesday, January 13, 2026, will remain unforgettable to me and our entire family following the painful loss of my dear sister, a passionate teacher and Headmistress of the Nigerian Army Officers’ Wives Association (NAOWA) Model Nursery and Primary School, Letmuck Barracks, Mokola, Ibadan.

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Mrs. Fajuyigbe, fondly known as Ajayi Omowumi, died not only in the cold hands of death, but also as a victim of a failing health system in Nigeria.

It is heartbreaking that Nigerians continue to lose their precious lives daily in circumstances that should never happen—many of which are directly linked to the collapse of emergency healthcare services across the country.

One is forced to ask: Do our hospitals still have functional emergency services? Why do some health practitioners toy with the lives of patients? Has the duty of care completely disappeared? These are pressing questions that demand answers, especially in view of the tragic death of my sister.

Gone are the days when a patient’s hope was restored immediately upon arrival at a hospital. Today, stepping into a hospital does not necessarily mean safety. Even when accident victims or critically ill persons are rescued and rushed to a hospital, there is no guarantee they will be treated. In many cases, they are turned back or subjected to delays that cost them their lives.

This was exactly what happened to my sister.

She was transported in an ambulance from a military hospital to several hospitals in Ibadan throughout the night. Yet, hospital after hospital offered excuses: “Doctors are on leave.” “Only one doctor is on duty.” “We don’t have the facilities to handle this case.”

It was a painful chain of rejection—from hospitals around Mokola to Odogbo, Adeoyo, Oluyoro, Basorun, and others—until the seventh hospital, Molly Specialist Hospital, Idi-Ape, Ibadan, eventually admitted her at about 1:00 a.m., but only after demanding and receiving a huge sum of money.

Even after admission, the urgent surgery she desperately needed was not performed in time. She slipped into a coma and later died.

It is devastating that in many hospitals today, money comes before life. How can a hospital feel comfortable allowing someone brought in alive to die just hours after admission due to delays and negligence? Why should emergency patients be rejected at night when time is most critical?

We are compelled to speak out, because silence will only encourage the continued and avoidable loss of lives. It is unacceptable that in a major city like Ibadan—located in a state proudly regarded as the Pacesetter—patients in critical condition can be tossed around from one hospital to another without immediate intervention.

Equally disturbing is the seeming complacency of government amid the alarming exodus of doctors and other healthcare professionals from Nigeria. The shortage of personnel and facilities is no longer a hidden problem; it is now killing people in real time.

My sister’s life could have been saved if she had been promptly attended to at any of the hospitals visited on Monday, January 13, 2026. Sadly, she became another statistic in a broken system.

This situation must be urgently addressed. Almost everyone who hears this story has a similar experience to share about the poor state of healthcare in Nigeria.

Will this painful trend continue? Which way, Nigeria?

Olawore, Helen Opeyemi

Writes from Eruwa

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