Death of author’s child puts Nigeria’s healthcare system in spotlight

The death this month of award-winning novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s 21-month-old son brought back painful memories for Othuke Ominiabohs, an author based in Nigeria’s commercial capital, Lagos. “Honestly, I cried when I heard about it,” he said.

Seven years ago, his own son was born prematurely and rushed to intensive care. His tiny baby was given a fatally large dose of glucose, administered by an overworked and inexperienced junior doctor.

“He injected an amount that the baby’s body could not handle, so they practically overdosed the child,” said Ominiabohs. “The cells couldn’t break it down, and that was how he died. I was right there.”

He added: “I know what she feels because I have been there. It’s taken us years to recover. Our child was just three days old, not to mention a child you’ve loved, played with, named. It’s just heartbreaking.”

Since the death of Adichie’s son Nkanu Nnamdi, Nigerians have been sharing their stories of medical negligence and personal tragedy on social media. The toddler died at a Euracare hospital, a private facility in Lagos, on 6 January, the day before he was due to be transferred for specialist treatment in the US.

The author’s family says the toddler, who had a “short illness”, was denied oxygen and injected with an overdose of propofol, which was given to sedate him before an MRI scan. Adichie has issued a legal notice to the hospital, demanding answers and accusing it of medical negligence.

In a statement, she claimed “no proper protocol was followed.” “Suddenly, our beautiful little boy was gone forever,” she wrote. “It is like living your worst nightmare. I will never survive the loss of my child.”

Euracare denies negligence and an investigation is still taking place. But for many Nigerians, the story is a familiar one.

Although the country poured money into its health services and has almost halved its child mortality rate in the past three decades, tales of negligence are commonplace. Even large private hospitals struggle with staff and skills shortages. In rural areas, many people cannot access even the most basic healthcare.

“This was a top private hospital in Lagos,” said Samuel Chidozie, a software developer in Lagos. “If our elites cannot even access good healthcare, now imagine what the ordinary Nigerians are going through.”

Last week, the northern state of Kano ordered an investigation into the death of a woman who died four months after a pair of scissors was left in her stomach during surgery. When she complained of abdominal pain, she was given painkillers. A scan finally revealed the mistake two days after her death.

Such stories have eroded faith in the healthcare system. “I don’t trust doctors at all, especially in Nigeria,” said Chidozie. “There’s a saying: ‘Don’t let Nigeria happen to you.’ I’m scared of getting sick, honestly.”

Happy Faotu, another Lagos-based software engineer, who grew up reading Adichie’s books, said his friend’s infant son narrowly avoided death last month when he was given the wrong type of blood during a transfusion.

“Chimamanda is someone almost every household respects,” said Faotu of the author of novels such as Half of a Yellow Sun, Americanah and Dream Count. “But sadly Nigerians are not surprised [about her son’s death] because it’s something almost every family has experienced. We take it as a normal thing. This case is being televised and talked about because she is a public figure.”

Healthcare is a hot-button political issue for Nigerians.

Ministers are often quizzed on whether they receive all their healthcare in Nigeria, and the country’s president, Bola Tinubu, has been forced to deny reports his frequent overseas trips are for medical treatment.

A key issue is the brain drain. Nigeria is one of the world’s biggest exporters of healthcare professionals, with thousands leaving every year for better pay.

The UK is by far the biggest destination, employing more than 12,000 Nigerian doctors in 2023, followed by the US with over 4,000.

Nigeria is left with approximately 55,000 doctors for about 240 million people, compared with more than 400,000 registered with the General Medical Council for a population of 70 million in the UK.

“We train them, and then they go to the UK, the US, for better services,” said Funmi Bankole, who worked as a medical practitioner in Lagos state from 2001 until last year. “When I was administering a district, I would get at least one or two notices every day from people who were withdrawing their services. It disrupts the system, because when you are planning healthcare services, you have just enough personnel and then it keeps depleting over time.”

Edgar Joseph, a Nigerian newspaper columnist, has experienced this first-hand. He lost his wife after she was admitted to a top private hospital in Lagos with severe diabetes complications on a Wednesday, but the specialist she needed to see only worked on Tuesdays. By Saturday, his wife had died.

“I feel like I had a personal connection with Chimamanda,” he said. “As much as I am crying for her, I am crying for myself.”