В Нигерии призывают перестроить систему здравоохранения, чтобы жизнь не зависела от вирусных постов

Nigerians are daily confronted with some very disturbing stories across traditional and social media platforms. They are stories of Nigerians, young and old, who are down with one illness or the other and are seeking public assistance to stay alive. These people, or their spouses, parents, friends and family members must have spent all their savings on the illness before resorting to seeking help outside their immediate circle. Media practitioners get these requests too often, an indication that it is gradually becoming an epidemic. I have personally treated some of these requests for publication, and in many cases, I am moved to tears when reading their stories. These terminal diseases, including but not limited to cancer, kidney-related issues, and heart problems, among others, do not consider age or gender before striking. What is even more heart-rending is when, after spending huge sums of money battling these illnesses, the patients still succumb to death. The bereaved families are not only mourning their loved ones, but they are also groaning over the penury the sickness has caused them. Coincidentally, I represented my managing director/editor-in-chief at a breakfast meeting organised by the Vivianne Ihekweazu-led Nigeria Health Watch in Abuja yesterday. The theme of the event was “Health as a Political Issue: Driving Accountability and Citizen Engagement Ahead of Nigeria’s 2027 Elections”. Although I had finished work on this piece before attending the event, I could not resist updating it to include some of the revelations shared at the meeting, which further strengthened my belief that something serious must be done. We were told that more than 70 per cent of health expenditure in Nigeria comes directly from individuals’ pockets rather than from government or health insurance. The figure, we were told, is among the highest rates in the world. We were also told that Nigeria records some of the world’s worst population health outcomes despite being Africa’s largest economy by GDP. The gloomy verdict is that millions of Nigerians remain just one serious illness away from catastrophic financial distress because, as one of the speakers put it, “one serious illness can wipe out a family.” The death on Sunday of veteran actor Taiwo Hassan, popularly known as Ogogo, is another painful reminder that Nigerians are increasingly losing battles against these diseases. His daughters had publicly disclosed his stage-four cancer and sought help/recommendations regarding treatment. His death has generated another round of conversations about cancer, healthcare and the ability of ordinary Nigerians to afford treatment. Ogogo’s story is not unique or alone. Cases abound of similar cases. Even in the industry that he belonged to, there was the case of the death of Alexx Ekubo in May 2026 at 40 from complications associated with advanced metastatic kidney cancer. A former presidential spokesperson, Doyin Okupe, died in March 2025 after a long battle with cancer. Veteran broadcaster and actor, Sadiq Daba, died in 2021 following cancer. My fear, which I believe is valid, is that if prominent Nigerians with access to money, influential friends and public visibility can struggle with these diseases, what happens to the ordinary Nigerian who has neither the money nor the connections to seek treatment? Thousands of Nigerians die quietly of these diseases without ever becoming a newspaper headline. A wealthy or famous patient may have access to specialists; family members who can mobilise money; friends who can launch fundraising campaigns; access to treatment abroad; public sympathy, but the average Nigerian may have none of these. For many Nigerians, the diagnosis of cancer or kidney failure is not merely a medical diagnosis. It is a financial death sentence. Nigeria’s cancer burden is huge. Cancer treatment is not one single expense. There are expenses for diagnosis; scans; biopsy; surgery; chemotherapy; radiotherapy; drugs; hospitalisation; and follow-up care, among others. This is very huge. A family can become financially devastated even when treatment is successful. Kidney disease presents another frightening picture. From the recurring cost of dialysis to transplantation, the expenses are enormous. Cancer treatment can be expensive; kidney failure can impose a recurring financial burden because dialysis may have to be repeated regularly. This means a family may survive the first fundraising appeal only to confront another bill weeks later, therefore becoming a vicious cycle. Any time the issue of fundraising for the sick comes up in the media, there is always a common comment from those who believe that such monies should naturally be provided by governments. Those who belong to that school of thought always wonder why a country with a government-funded health system requires seriously ill citizens to become fundraisers before they can access life-saving treatment. They argue that charity should complement healthcare; it should not be the healthcare financing system. I agree that governments at all levels cannot treat this as an ordinary health issue. Nigeria needs to rethink healthcare financing. The government already has mechanisms such as the Cancer Health Fund, designed to make cancer treatment more affordable. A 2024 report noted that the Federal Government earmarked N200m for indigent cancer patients through the fund. Then, the argument is whether this is enough. How many people benefit? How quickly do they receive assistance? How much of the patient’s bill is covered? What happens when the allocated money is exhausted? A special fund should be put in place to fund such diseases, or the government should consider expanding the existing cancer funding mechanism into a broader fund. It should cover, subject to clearly defined eligibility, cancer; kidney failure; major heart conditions; severe childhood diseases; and other extremely expensive, life-threatening conditions. The important point is that patients should not have to beg publicly before receiving support. The dedicated pool can be funded through various means. It can be funded through federal budgetary allocation; a defined percentage of selected health-related levies; contributions from states; donor funding; corporate and philanthropic contributions. But government funding should be the foundation. A patient diagnosed with an eligible catastrophic disease should have access to the fund based on medical and financial criteria. Money should go directly to hospitals. This will reduce fraud and unnecessary delays. Prevention must also be part of the solution. Government should invest more in cancer screening; blood pressure checks; diabetes screening; kidney-function tests; vaccination against cancer-related infections such as HPV and hepatitis B; healthy lifestyle campaigns; and early diagnosis. There is also the need to strengthen public hospitals and treatment centres. The government cannot simply create a fund while patients have nowhere to receive quality treatment. Nigeria needs more oncology centres, functioning radiotherapy machines, more dialysis centres, trained specialists, and affordable essential medicines. Another area that can be looked into is the expansion of health insurance. What is the point of having health insurance if the moment a patient develops a catastrophic illness, the family discovers that the condition or treatment is not adequately covered? Insurance schemes should provide genuine financial protection. Having talked about the government, wealthy Nigerians and corporate Nigeria also have roles to play. A national health endowment could allow banks, telecom companies, oil companies, pharmaceutical companies, wealthy Nigerians, religious organisations, and foundations to contribute. But there should be accountability. Nigerians should not have to beg to live. The death of Ogogo and others should not merely generate tributes, social-media posts and “rest in peace” messages. They should force a serious question about what happens to the next Nigerian who receives the same diagnosis. The tragedy is not simply that Nigerians are becoming sick. People everywhere become sick. The tragedy is that in Nigeria, falling seriously ill can quickly become a battle between a patient’s life and the family’s bank account. We cannot continue to build a healthcare system in which the loudest patient, the most famous patient, or the patient whose appeal goes viral gets the best chance of survival. No Nigerian should have to trend on social media before the country comes to his or her rescue. A functioning healthcare system should provide help because a citizen is eligible, not because strangers have been moved by the person’s suffering.