As Nigeria marks 64 years of independence, the nation stands at a crossroads, grappling with multiple challenges that cast a shadow on the promise of prosperity that accompanied the birth of the republic in 1960. At independence, Nigeria was heralded as the “Giant of Africa,” a nation brimming with resources, hope, and potential. Today, the reality is starkly different, as the country contends with a myriad of socio-economic and political issues that have left millions of citizens disillusioned. Yet, as daunting as these challenges are, there remains a flicker of hope for a better tomorrow one that requires bold reforms, accountability, transparency, and a collective will to steer the nation toward a brighter future.
A Once Vibrant Economy in Decline
Nigeria’s economy, once on par with global currencies like the British Pound and the US Dollar, has witnessed a dramatic decline. The Nigerian Naira, which previously held its own against major currencies, now struggles in the face of inflation, a deteriorating exchange rate, and weak economic management. The South African Rand, once a weaker currency, now stands over 200% higher than the Naira, a painful reflection of Nigeria’s economic mismanagement over the years.
The Nigerian Bureau of Statistics (NBS) reports that over 133 million Nigerians now live below the poverty line. This translates to approximately 63% of the population, unable to afford basic living expenses like food, shelter, and healthcare. The spiralling cost of living, fuelled by rising inflation, worsens the economic outlook for everyday Nigerians. The increase in fuel prices, following the removal of fuel subsidies, has compounded the struggles of a populace already burdened by unemployment and underemployment, particularly among the youth.
The Spectre of Corruption and Mismanagement
At the heart of Nigeria’s economic woes is the pervasive corruption and misappropriation of public funds. Despite abundant natural resources—oil, gas, and vast agricultural potential—mismanagement and endemic corruption have hindered Nigeria’s ability to translate its wealth into meaningful development. Successive governments have paid lip service to the fight against corruption, while the majority of citizens continue to suffer from the fallout of public sector inefficiency.
The health and education sectors, once beacons of pride, are now in shambles. Underfunded and poorly managed, these critical sectors have left millions of Nigerians without access to quality healthcare and education. Infrastructural decay, from bad roads to epileptic power supply, continues to plague the nation, stalling industrial growth and development.
Rising Insecurity and Social Instability
One of the most visible manifestations of the country’s failure to provide basic security is the rise of violent conflict, kidnapping, and banditry. Widespread insecurity has forced many Nigerians to live in constant fear, particularly in the northern regions, where insurgencies, kidnappings, and banditry thrive. Food insecurity has worsened, as farmers are unable to access their farms due to violence. This has contributed to soaring food prices and increased hunger across the nation.
Electoral fraud and political instability further complicate the picture, as elections are often marred by violence, vote-buying, and lack of transparency, eroding the democratic values that Nigeria fought hard to establish. Compounding these challenges is the rising incidence of sexual and gender-based violence, a social scourge that remains largely under-addressed despite the government’s commitments.
Is There Hope for the Future?
While Nigeria’s current challenges appear overwhelming, there remains hope for the future. The nation’s young and dynamic population is a key asset. With over 60% of the population under the age of 25, Nigeria’s youth can play a transformative role in the country’s development if given the opportunity. Investments in education, technology, and entrepreneurial training can harness this demographic dividend, creating new opportunities and driving innovation in critical sectors.
To achieve lasting change, bold reforms are needed. The Nigerian government must prioritize good governance, transparency, and accountability. The fight against corruption must move beyond rhetoric, with tangible actions taken to hold public officials accountable and recover stolen funds. Strengthening institutions like the judiciary and anti-corruption agencies will be critical in this fight.
Economic diversification is also essential. Nigeria must reduce its dependence on oil, which has left the economy vulnerable to fluctuations in global oil prices. By investing in agriculture, renewable energy, technology, and manufacturing, the country can build a more resilient economy that creates jobs and reduces poverty.
Finally, addressing insecurity requires a comprehensive approach that combines military interventions with long-term social and economic strategies. Building trust between communities and the government, improving law enforcement, and addressing the root causes of conflict—such as poverty, unemployment, and political exclusion—are vital steps in restoring peace and stability.
Conclusion
At 64, Nigeria is a nation teetering between its great potential and the harsh realities of its current situation. The dreams of prosperity that once defined its early years of independence have been marred by decades of mismanagement, insecurity, and social instability. However, hope is not lost. With the right leadership, strategic reforms, and a renewed commitment to fighting corruption and addressing inequality, Nigeria can rise once again as a beacon of hope and progress in Africa. The journey may be long and arduous, but with determination and collective effort, a better Nigeria is still within reach.
At 64, Nigeria is a total mess. It is a deformed adult child at 64! It cannot protect itself and depends on others for basic sustenance, even from resources it has in abundance. A weak union, Nigeria, which got its Independence from the British colonial masters on October 1, 1960, is standing on false structural legs. Turning political logic on its head, a natural federation of more than 250 distinct ethnic nationalities of vast cultures, beliefs, and ideologies operates like a unitary state. Consequently, it goes around in circles, a bleak mimicry of an isomorphic state.
For much of its history, it has lost its way. It is crawling in contrast to China, which shares October 1 as its national day. And this is not a harsh judgement. China’s GDP is $17.96 trillion (2022) in contrast to Nigeria’s $252 billion!
The political class lives in denial, but there is precious little to celebrate for most citizens. The lofty hopes that independence birthed have vanished, made worse by the unprecedented cost-of-living crisis in the past year.
The ethnic nationalities cohabit in mutual suspicion, distrust, and disharmony. The malice is barely concealed. The competition of the early days after the exit of the colonialists has turned to hostile rivalry. The values of integrity, scholarship, and dignity of labour have disappeared, replaced by sleaze and morbid antagonism. Youths are fleeing, referred to in local parlance as ‘japa.’
The numbers are bleak. Islamic terrorism, Fulani herdsmen rapine, banditry, and separatist agitation consumed 63,135 citizens in the eight years to May 2023. The number has not improved under Bola Tinubu, the fifth President of the Fourth Republic, which began in 1999. The Fragile State Index compiled annually by Fund for Peace, puts Nigeria at No.15 in 2023. It is in the same company as Guinea, Zimbabwe, and Libya.
After mismanaging its abundant natural resources, Nigeria is currently a hollow repository of abandoned infrastructural projects. About 56,000 uncompleted projects dot the landscape. The World Bank says Nigeria’s infrastructure stock is 30 per cent of GDP. This is 40 per cent short of the 70 per cent recommended by the Bank. The African Development Bank notes that Nigeria needs $100 billion annually for 30 straight years to build its infrastructure.
The electricity output is dismal, a stark reality of Nigeria’s arrested development. Its continental peers, South Africa and Egypt generate 58,000 megawatts each; Nigeria is barely able to generate 5,000MW. The World Bank says 45 per cent of citizens lack access to grid electricity 64 years after flag independence.
The economy depends unwisely on oil revenue. Since 2014, oil prices have fluctuated widely, leaving Nigeria hanging by a thread. An economy then the first with a GDP of $510 billion after rebasing in 2014 is now the fourth in Africa with a GDP of $252 billion.
After over six decades of independence, the country with the largest population – 233 million – in Africa cannot feed its population. According to the 2023 Global Hunger Index, Nigeria ranks 109th out of the 125 countries with sufficient data to calculate GHI scores. With a score of 28.3, Nigeria has a level of hunger that is serious.
In education and the provision of social services, Nigeria is in a pitiful state. With 20.1 million, Nigeria’s out-of-school population is second in the world to India’s. The universities, beset by strikes, poor pay, and shabby infrastructure, are poorly ranked globally. A new policy to prevent under-18 students from university admissions is causing mass discontent.
With a sizeable number of medical professionals relocating overseas, the health of citizens is in jeopardy. The wealthy fly abroad for medical treatment. Medical tourism sets Nigeria back by $2 billion yearly, per the Nigerian Medical Association.
Fifty-eight years after independence, Nigeria went from bad to worse. That year, it gained global disdain after overtaking India as the global poverty capital with 87 million nationals. Unfortunately, things are much worse. In 2022, the NBS estimated that 133 million Nigerians lived in multidimensional poverty. The situation degenerated in 2023 after Tinubu cancelled the petrol subsidy that had kept transportation prices affordable and floated the currency. The World Bank said the twin policies added 7 million Nigerians to the poverty rate. Data by the NBS put the poverty rate at 27.2 per cent or 17.1 million citizens in 1980 and 69.0 per cent or 112.47 million in 2010. Multidimensional poverty is at 63 per cent and income poverty at 40 per cent, the AfDB said.
Its economy is disarticulated. This is reflected boldly in the 10 per cent tax-to-GDP ratio, one of the lowest in the world. The OECD pegs the minimum for economic development at 16 per cent tax-to-GDP.
Labour is poorly rewarded. Most states are struggling with the new national minimum wage of N70,000 per month. On its part, the Federal Government is incurring debt to pay federal civil servants, although the national debt stock crossed the N121 trillion barrier in 2024. The Federal Government serviced its debt by 74 per cent of income in Q1. There is a wide gap in income equality. Unemployment remains unusually high.
Unwisely, Nigeria is unwilling to change a political structure that has delivered discontent, agitations, and extreme privations. The political leadership is driving the system to ruination and implosion is imminent.
Its only positive claim is that democracy is in operation after the exit of the military from governance in 1999. That is as best as it gets. Elections, a healthy measure of democracy, are hollow; they end up in litigation and winners are decided by the judiciary instead of the electorate. This creates deeper fissures after each election cycle.
It was not so at the beginning. The 1963 Republican Constitution recognised the importance of federalism, which accommodates disparate interests, especially that of minorities. The three regions – East, West and North – developed at their own pace, begetting healthy competition and development. Those three regions are now atomised as 36 states. Most are not economically viable.
The misguided military coup of 1966 destroyed Nigeria’s incipient political soul. Since then, the country has experienced a three-year internecine war. Amidst renewed violence, Biafra separatist agitators are asking for their own country again. The North is defined by religious bloodletting, a sign that Nigeria is a failing state. Others are emphatic it has failed.
Nigeria has a few options left. One, it can continue pretending as a unitary state and eventually self-destruct. Two, it can instigate true federalism – the devolution of power to the constituent units as it was in the First Republic. Here, the federating units are co-equals to the centre, not subservient as it is currently in which they go to Abuja with begging bowls.
The third option is to negotiate a peaceful separation as occurred in the ‘Velvet (Gentle) Revolution’ in defunct Czechoslovakia in 1989 to form two countries – Czechia (originally the Czech Republic) and Slovakia.
Without taking any of this route, the ultimate cost is violent disintegration. The obdurate forces in the former Yugoslavia travelled this road with devastating outcomes as the country split violently into over seven countries.
The degenerate political class should redeem itself and avoid this at all cost, but delay is dangerous.
Following the outburst by Mr Martins VINCENT Otshe aka, VeryDarkBlackMan or VeryDarkMan) against Femi Falana, SAN, among others in re Bobrisky prison tales, Mr Falana had written to demand apology and retraction, claiming Mr Otshe’s outburst against him was defamatory. In response to Falana’s demand, Deji Adeyanju & Partners writing as Solicitors to Martins VINCENT Otshe, declared that their client (Mr Otshe) had done nothing more than share Mr Bobrisky’s voice note. According to Deji Adeyanju & Partners, their client had done nothing wrong against Falana whom as the Law Firm says, their client holds very high. It was in reaction to the letter by Deji Adeyanju & Partners, that I wrote as follows:
However, by way of rejoinder to mine, a respected learned friend who happens to be both a great bar leader and my bosom friend, Mr Paschal Ugwuanyi, wrote thus:
“If a lawyer applies to have a discussion with an inmate of a prison, on approval, the welfare officer stays close to the lawyer and the inmate to monitor the conversation or discussion as it lasts. Do we still assume that this procedure was followed while the alleged conversation between the Learned Silk and Bobrisky on telephone lasted? If it wasn’t followed, what is the implication? I think, we are assuming too much on this issue. I just wish to believe that the respected Learned Silk never put any call to Bobrisky while he was in the prison or that prior to allegedly making the call, he applied and got the permissions of the prison authority to put a call to Bobrisky. In my mind,those are the only available defences to Learned Silk and I rest my case on this issue.”
On his part, learned Ken Ahia, SAN had this to say:
“I agree with you [i.e., with Udems] on this . Secondly, the said Bobrisky could be mentioning Falana’s name for legitimacy of the demand he is making to a friend for support. Falana, did no wrong in advising a client on options available.”
Meanwhile, in reaction to Mr Ugwuanyi’s friendly rejoinder, I asked the following questions:
“Udems I will answer your question by telling you that on few occasions inmates of prison called me on phone and introduced themselves as inmates of the prison, i promptly ended the call with a promise to visit them at the prison and i visited as promised. But the case at hand is not even about inmates of prison calling a lawyer,rather, it’s about a lawyer allegedly calling inmate of prison. I hope you have not disputed the mandatory procedure of a welfare officer of prison being close to lawyers while conversations between them and any inmates of the prison maybe going on. If you accept that this procedure is a mandatory procedure in every prison or Correctional Centers in the country,what do you say about the breach of the procedure?”
MY FURTHER COMMENTS, IN REACTION TO UGWUANYI’S:
“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙞𝙧, with due respect, sir; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙬, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙄𝘾𝙏 𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 in Nigeria.
I have questions for you, sir: 𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚 22 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍ukes of 𝙋rofessional 𝘾induct for Legal Practitioners in Nigeria, 2023, 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 [as a lawyer] 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚. Now, I ask you, (A). 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚?
In the video clip, the VeryDarkMan is heard and seen saying that “Femi Falana spoke to Bobrisky to divert justice”. His words, in part:
“Falz the bad guy spoke to Bobrisky and contacted his father and his father Femi Falana spoke to Bobrisky in order to divert justice…. And the same Falz will come out and say he’s fighting against Nigerian Government, against injustice….”
How are the above words defamatory?
(A). OF FEMI FALANA: VeryDarkMan’s statement represented the learned silk (i) as one who had attempted to divert justice and (ii) as one who is a hypocrite.
(B). FALZ: By necessary, reasonable implication, VeryDarkMan, in the video clip, accused Falz of the following, among others: (1). Falz is a hypocrite; (2). Falz tried to divert justice; and (3). Falz is a homosexual.
Anyone who has watched VeryDarkMan speaking in the video clip would be as shocked as I am, that VeryDarkMan’s Lawyers would write a response-letter to suggest that VeryDarkMan has said nothing defamatory against Femi Falana and Falz. Unless VeryDarkMan believes in, and can prove, the truth of what he has said, it is surprising that VeryDarkMan has up till now not yet apologized. Assuming VeryDarkMan thinks he’s saying the truth, the REALITY is that he can’t rely on the said video clip for any form of support or justification for his vituperative and malignant outburst against Mr Falana. Perhaps he has other evidence outside the video clip. If not, and if he refuses, fails or neglects to apologise, then he is for bigger law-troubles unless Mr Falana decides to let the sleeping dog lie. Mine is not a piece of advice to Mr Falana, to sue or to not sue; I am merely analysing to contribute to putting the issues in proper perspectives.
Please, read Part 1 of this discussion: “The Femi Falana Angle in the Bobrisky Prison-tales Controversy” But Sylvester Udemezue [published 26 September 2024 in LawAndSocietyMagazine) 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙐𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙯𝙪𝙚 (𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮) 08109024556. 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮@𝙜𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡.𝙘𝙤𝙢. (27/09/2024)
Following the outburst by Mr Martins VINCENT Otshe aka, VeryDarkBlackMan or VeryDarkMan) against Femi Falana, SAN, among others in re Bobrisky prison tales, Mr Falana had written to demand apology and retraction, claiming Mr Otshe’s outburst against him was defamatory. In response to Falana’s demand, Deji Adeyanju & Partners writing as Solicitors to Martins VINCENT Otshe, declared that their client (Mr Otshe) had done nothing more than share Mr Bobrisky’s voice note. According to Deji Adeyanju & Partners, their client had done nothing wrong against Falana whom as the Law Firm says, their client holds very high. It was in reaction to the letter by Deji Adeyanju & Partners, that I wrote as follows:
However, by way of rejoinder to mine, a respected learned friend who happens to be both a great bar leader and my bosom friend, Mr Paschal Ugwuanyi, wrote thus:
“If a lawyer applies to have a discussion with an inmate of a prison, on approval, the welfare officer stays close to the lawyer and the inmate to monitor the conversation or discussion as it lasts. Do we still assume that this procedure was followed while the alleged conversation between the Learned Silk and Bobrisky on telephone lasted? If it wasn’t followed, what is the implication? I think, we are assuming too much on this issue. I just wish to believe that the respected Learned Silk never put any call to Bobrisky while he was in the prison or that prior to allegedly making the call, he applied and got the permissions of the prison authority to put a call to Bobrisky. In my mind,those are the only available defences to Learned Silk and I rest my case on this issue.”
On his part, learned Ken Ahia, SAN had this to say:
“I agree with you [i.e., with Udems] on this . Secondly, the said Bobrisky could be mentioning Falana’s name for legitimacy of the demand he is making to a friend for support. Falana, did no wrong in advising a client on options available.”
Meanwhile, in reaction to Mr Ugwuanyi’s friendly rejoinder, I asked the following questions:
“Udems I will answer your question by telling you that on few occasions inmates of prison called me on phone and introduced themselves as inmates of the prison, i promptly ended the call with a promise to visit them at the prison and i visited as promised. But the case at hand is not even about inmates of prison calling a lawyer,rather, it’s about a lawyer allegedly calling inmate of prison. I hope you have not disputed the mandatory procedure of a welfare officer of prison being close to lawyers while conversations between them and any inmates of the prison maybe going on. If you accept that this procedure is a mandatory procedure in every prison or Correctional Centers in the country,what do you say about the breach of the procedure?”
MY FURTHER COMMENTS, IN REACTION TO UGWUANYI’S:
“𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙞𝙧, with due respect, sir; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙬, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙄𝘾𝙏 𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 in Nigeria.
I have questions for you, sir: 𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚 22 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍ukes of 𝙋rofessional 𝘾induct for Legal Practitioners in Nigeria, 2023, 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 [as a lawyer] 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚. Now, I ask you, (A). 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚?
In the video clip, the VeryDarkMan is heard and seen saying that “Femi Falana spoke to Bobrisky to divert justice”. His words, in part:
“Falz the bad guy spoke to Bobrisky and contacted his father and his father Femi Falana spoke to Bobrisky in order to divert justice…. And the same Falz will come out and say he’s fighting against Nigerian Government, against injustice….”
How are the above words defamatory?
(A). OF FEMI FALANA: VeryDarkMan’s statement represented the learned silk (i) as one who had attempted to divert justice and (ii) as one who is a hypocrite.
(B). FALZ: By necessary, reasonable implication, VeryDarkMan, in the video clip, accused Falz of the following, among others: (1). Falz is a hypocrite; (2). Falz tried to divert justice; and (3). Falz is a homosexual.
Anyone who has watched VeryDarkMan speaking in the video clip would be as shocked as I am, that VeryDarkMan’s Lawyers would write a response-letter to suggest that VeryDarkMan has said nothing defamatory against Femi Falana and Falz. Unless VeryDarkMan believes in, and can prove, the truth of what he has said, it is surprising that VeryDarkMan has up till now not yet apologized. Assuming VeryDarkMan thinks he’s saying the truth, the REALITY is that he can’t rely on the said video clip for any form of support or justification for his vituperative and malignant outburst against Mr Falana. Perhaps he has other evidence outside the video clip. If not, and if he refuses, fails or neglects to apologise, then he is for bigger law-troubles unless Mr Falana decides to let the sleeping dog lie. Mine is not a piece of advice to Mr Falana, to sue or to not sue; I am merely analysing to contribute to putting the issues in proper perspectives.
Please, read Part 1 of this discussion: “The Femi Falana Angle in the Bobrisky Prison-tales Controversy” By Sylvester Udemezue [published 26 September 2024 in LawAndSocietyMagazine) 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙐𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙯𝙪𝙚 (𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮) 08109024556. 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮@𝙜𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡.𝙘𝙤𝙢. (27/09/2024)
While the world at large mourns the turn of events for Eniayéndàmú, his new caregivers are least bothered. While men of honour and goodwill agree that Eniayéndàmú deserves better treatment from his new minders than he gets, the victim itself shows no sign that he wants to get out of the woods. When the poor are content with poverty, it is difficult to preach prosperity to them. That is the lot of Eniayéndàmú.
That is why at over six decades, Eniayéndàmú, with a beard that is as long as the tail of a monkey, crawls where his mates do marathons. Everything nature has deposited in him to make him great in life has turned out to be a curse. Every nourishment that would have allowed him to grow and compete with his contemporaries all over the world has been appropriated by his caregivers. This is why he remains prostrate amid wealth. His is a great calamity! And more calamitous is the fact that there is no hope of a better tomorrow as the worst of caregivers oversee Eniayéndàmú’s affairs.
Today is October 1. Exactly 64 years ago, the British Union Jack was lowered for the Nigerian Flag of green-white-green to be hoisted. In our elementary classes, we were told that the two green stripes on our Flag stand for the “natural wealth of the country.” The white stripe, our General Studies teachers said, represents “peace and unity.” Fantastic concepts by the first set of caregivers. Nigeria is indeed blessed with natural resources. We have no reason to be poor. But the late Primate of Anglican Communion, Bishop Abiodun Adetiloye, explained why we are poor amid wealth. He said God gave us locusts as leaders to manage our resources. Locusts, by nature, don’t leave anything to harvest on the field! This is why our leaders upon leaders pillage our natural resources to no end
The designer of our National Flag, Pa Taiwo Akinkunmi, added the white stripe in the middle as a symbol of “peace and unity. The old man died on August 29, 2023, at the ripe age of 87. He witnessed 63 years of birthday anniversaries of the nation he helped to nurture. I don’t know if the man was happy seeing how the peace and unity he conceived in his design became our albatross; how Nigerians of all tribes were turned against one another by leaders who only thrive in disunity, chaos and insecurity. Nigeria is 64 years old today, we can ask how many of us are at peace and how united are we as a nation? At 64, the Nation question, which formed part of our secondary school debates and symposia about 40 years ago remains unresolved. A friend told me that there are only two tribes: the good and the bad people. But in Nigeria of today, we still think along the argument of which region or ethnic group is domineering or short-changed. The world has indeed troubled us!
How did we get here? How did we allow the locusts in power at all levels of our political administration, divide us such that the poor in the land cannot come together to chart a new plan for Nigeria? How did we arrive at this terrible juncture such that when those who stole the nation blind come visiting with their palliatives, we gather in our thousands to hail them? How do we explain that while Herbert Macaulay established the National Council of Nigeria and Cameroons (NCNC) in 1944, which later changed National convention of Nigerian Citizens, and appointed Nnamdi Azikiwe as his Secretary-General and deputy, but today, an Okechukwu Mbanefo cannot become a councillor in Kosofe Local Government? And how an Obajusigbe Adeyemi cannot own a shop in Upper Iweka, Onitsha, Anambra State? Why is it that the same North where the late Ahmadu Bello appointed a Sunday Awoniyi of Mopa, Kogi State, as his Private Secretary, can no longer tolerate an Adewale Ibiyemi as a clerical offiofficer in Sokoto Civil Service Commission?
Today, our present eaters of vegetation would gather in stadiums across the state capitals and local government headquarters to take the National Salute in celebration of our independence. In the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), Abuja, our new husband, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, would mount the rostrum while members of the nation’s Armed Forces would march past to give him the traditional National Salute. In Government Houses and various banquet halls, there would be wining and dining, dancing and clinking of glasses. Various event centres would be decorated, and balloons would be inflated to give an ambience of a nation in joyous mood. A look across those cosmetic environments, poverty, squalor and deprivation walk on all fours.
On the highways, amidst the celebrations, Nigerians would be kidnapped in their hundreds. In villages across the North-East and North-West, thousands of peasant farmers would be attacked and killed by bandits. In Benue, Plateau and Niger States, this very day of independence, villagers and other ordinary citizens would be at the mercy of terrorists, bandits and cattle rustlers. In the South-West countryside, felonious herdsmen would make meat of farmers on their farms. But in the FCT and all state capitals, our unfeeling caregivers would hug and backslap one another, mouthing “happy independence.” But why has this sordid fate befallen Eniayéndàmú’?
The fault is not entirely our leaders’. Our misfortune as a nation is a shared one – the leaders and the led are guilty. How many Nigerians have summoned the courage to question their political leaders? How many of us have the courage to interrogate how a man who could barely feed his family suddenly turned a multi-millionaire in less than six months after he was appointed as a minister, or commissioner, or elected as a senator or a member of a state House of Assembly? Who defends these figures if not the same poor masses? I have come to realise that most Nigerians lament and condemn their leaders only when they are not benefiting directly from the largesse stolen from our collective patrimony. Once their kinsmen are in power, and bits of the national cake drop for them to pick, most Nigerians don’t care. Once it is our son, we build a wall of protection round him.
The Edo State governorship election took place on September 21. The results were announced, and a winner declared on September 22. With all that we witnessed while the exercise lasted, many elites still hail the outcome. To some, it would not matter how it happened “as long as Governor Obaseki did not produce his successor from his own political party.” To many, the election was about settling age-long personal scores and how the winner emerged is immaterial. I asked a hitherto old ‘human rights activist’, who played a major role in the electioneering, how he felt about the outcome. In all sincerity, he said that he was “personally scandalised”. Then he added a caveat: “But I am happy that Obaseki has been taught a lesson he will never forget.” I probed further if his being “scandalised” and being “happy” are not too sharp opposites. He simply said: “My brother, this is politics.” Yeah, it is all about politics. I learnt long ago that an average Nigerian keeps his morality and decency in a locked safe while venturing into politics, those virtues are not needed in that sector! Little wonder our Eniayéndàmú is still crawling at 64. No nation with the mentality of “anything goes in politics” can ever develop.
Because “anything goes in politics”, our leaders steal us blind and give us palliatives to assuage our hunger. A friend, on his Facebook page, while summing up the Edo governorship election, said that prostitutes are far ahead of an average Nigerian voter in intelligence. He explained that while a prostitute charges her customers each time they come knocking at her door, the Nigerian voters charge politicians only once in four years. This is why people collect as low as N10,000 to vote for a particular candidate or political party. How do we explain a man who bought fuel at N1,200 per litre, drove his car to a voting centre on the election day and changed his mind about the party and candidate he had left his house to vote for because another political party handed him N10,000. The money he collected can only fetch him 8.3 litres of fuel at N1, 200/litre! Who would he blame if the one he voted for did not perform in office?
The Council of Legal Education has approved the commencement of law degree programmes in five private universities even as it announced the failure of 35.98% of participants in the June 2024 Re–sit Bar Final Examinations.
This was contained in the extracts/ resolutions of the Council of Legal Education hybrid meeting of September 27, 2024, obtained by Law & Society Magazine.
Below is the full text of the resolution.
The third quarterly meeting of the Council of Legal Education (CLE) for the year 2024 took place on Friday 27th of September, 2024 at the Council’s Chambers, Nigerian Law School Headquarters, Bwari, Federal Capital Territory, Abuja and virtually, under the distinguished Chairmanship of Chief Emeka Ngige, SAN, OFR, DSSRS.
At the end of the meeting, the following, among other resolutions, were adopted:
The results of the June 2024 Re–sit Bar Final Examinations.
A total of 1, 287 students participated. The breakdown of the results is as follows:
Absent -19 representing 1.48% of the participants
Conditional Pass -6 representing 0.47% of the participants
Fail – 463 representing 35.98% of the participants
Invalidated – 1 representing 0.08% of the participants
Pass- 796 representing 61.85% of the participants
Withheld – 2 representing 0.16% of the participants
The accreditation reports presented by the Board of Studies chaired by the Director-General, Prof Isa Hayatu Chiroma, SAN, DSSRS for the commencement of law degree programmes in the following universities were approved:
University on the Niger, Umunya, Anambra State. The University was given approval to commence with a quota of fifty (50) students at 100 level. The university would be revisited by the Accreditation team at the appropriate time;
University of Ilesa, Ilesa, Osun State. The University was given approval to commence with a quota of fifty students at 100 level. The university would be revisited by the Accreditation team at the appropriate time;
Maduka University, Ekwegbe-Nsukka, Enugu State. The University was given approval to commence with a quota of fifty (50)students at 100 level provided that the University’s Faculty of Law puts in place a Staff and Student Common Rooms;
Alex Ekwueme Federal University, Ndufu-Alike, Ebonyi State. The University was given approval to commence with a quota of fifty (50)students at 100 level. However, the University is not to admit students for the next two (2) years as a sanction for the infraction of admitting students before the facility verification by the Council of Legal Education. The University would be revisited by the Accreditation team at the appropriate time;
Arthur Jarvis University, Akpabuyo, Calabar, Cross River State. The University was given approval to commence with a quota of fifty (50)students at 100 level. However, the University is not to admit students for the next two (2) years as a sanction for the infraction of admitting students before the facility verification by the Council of Legal Education. The University would be revisited by the Accreditation team at the appropriate time;
2b. In the same vein the faculties of law in the following Universities were not granted approval to commence studies:
Tansian University, Umunya, Anambra State. The University was directed to stop the admission of law students immediately until when all the issues highlighted in the Faculty of Law are addressed and the Council re-invited for verification.
Wesley University, Ondo, Ondo State. The University was equally directed to address the multi-dimensional issues highlighted in the Faculty of Law and thereafter re-invite the Council for verification.
The Council approved various sanctions in respect of referred admission cases as well as students involved in various forms of examination malpractice and other misconduct.
The Council approved the report and recommendations of the Appointments, Promotions and Disciplinary Committee (AP&DC) headed by Mazi Afam Osigwe, SAN (the President of the Nigeria Bar Association), for the promotion and discipline of some academic and non-academic staff of the Nigerian Law School.
The Council approved the appointment of Ms. Aderonke O. Osho who had been serving in acting capacity as the substantive Secretary to Council and Director of Administration of the Council of Legal Education and the Nigerian Law School for a five (5) year tenure, subject to the existing revised Public Service Rules (PSR), 2021.
The Council also approved the appointment of Mr. Oluwabamigbe Gbenga who has been serving in acting capacity as the substantive Director of Finance and Accounts Department of the Nigerian Law School.
On the letters of appeals by Lead City University, Ibadan and Baze University, Abuja, respectively requesting for review of the moratoriums imposed on their law faculties, the Council directed the Management of the Nigerian Law School to reply them stating that the moratoriums on the admission of students still stand and that the Universities would be revisited by the Accreditation team at the appropriate time to ensure their compliance with the Council directives.
Dated at Abuja this 28th day of September, 2024
A.O. Osho (Ms.)
Secretary to the Council& Director of Administration
The National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) has disclosed that although Borno State received about N816.34 million from the Ecological Fund between January and June 2024 only N20 million was been spent on flood control in the first half of 2024.
The receipt of the N816.34 million Ecological Fund is according to the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) data published by the NBS.
The Ecological Fund in Nigeria is a dedicated fund set up by the federal government to address various environmental challenges and natural disasters across the country.
It was established to manage the country’s ecological problems, particularly those arising from soil erosion, flood control, desertification, and other environmental degradation issues.
The fund is sourced from a percentage of the Federation Account, and it is meant to be distributed to states and local governments for ecological projects aimed at mitigating the impact of environmental hazards.
N20 million spent on flood and erosion control in H1 2024
Nairametrics observed that only N20 million has been spent on flood control in the first half of 2024, representing just 2.45% of the total ecological allocation.
This amount was only spent in the second quarter of the year, as nothing was spent for this budgetary allocation in Q1 2024.
Borno’s budget allocation for erosion and flood control remains underutilized. The 2024 revised budget earmarked N1.653 billion for flood control, yet only 1.2% of this has been spent, raising questions about the state’s preparedness and commitment to addressing this recurrent issue.
Also, despite Borno State allocating N1.042 billion for flood and erosion control in 2023, no funds were disbursed or spent for this budgetary allocation throughout the entire year. This reflects a worrying trend of underutilization of funds meant for critical infrastructure projects, especially considering the region’s vulnerability to severe flooding.
Increase in total Ecological Fund to Borno
The FAAC data for Borno State between January and June 2024 shows monthly disbursements totaling N816.34 million, compared to N749.68 million for the same period in 2023. This reflects a year-on-year (y-o-y) increase of about 8.89%, with fluctuations in monthly allocations.
In January 2024, Borno received N139.89 million, a decrease of 7.21% compared to N150.76 million in January 2023.
However, the allocation in February 2024 stood at N154.99 million, marking an increase of 39.37% from the N111.20 million received in February 2023.
In March 2024, Borno received N127.99 million, reflecting a 22.31% increase from N104.64 million in March 2023.
April 2024 saw a disbursement of N119.52 million, which is a 9.57% increase compared to N109.07 million in April 2023.
The allocation for May 2024 reached N142.28 million, reflecting a growth of 12.36% over the N126.63 million allocated in the same month of the previous year.
In June 2024, Borno received N131.67 million, a decrease of 10.65% compared to N147.37 million in June 2023.
Despite receiving a total of N816.34 million from the Ecological Fund, the state’s 2024 budget implementation report reveals a stark contrast between the allocated funds and actual spending for flood and erosion control.
What you should know
This underfunding has drawn significant attention, especially in light of the devastating floods that have claimed at least 30 lives in Borno. The flooding has left hundreds of thousands displaced, with many residents describing harrowing experiences as they sought refuge.
National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA) said the flood began after the Alau Dam overflowed following heavy rains leading to the town’s worst flooding in 30 years.
The ongoing flood disaster has seen a coordinated response from the military and emergency agencies, with over 719 residents rescued from flood-hit areas.
The Governor of Borno State, Babagana Umara Zulum, earlier said that a preliminary assessment conducted by the government showed that more than a third of Maiduguri was flooded, which affected an estimated one million people following the heavy flooding.
The governor also announced that cash distributions of N10,000 per household have been made to flood victims, adding that N3 billion flood intervention fund has been received from the federal government and would be used to provide immediate support to the communities affected by the flood.
The flood highlighted the critical need for flood control measures. However, the complete lack of expenditure in 2023, coupled with minimal spending of just N20 million in 2024 (only 1.2% of the revised N1.653 billion budget), raises serious concerns about the state’s disaster preparedness and response under Zulum’s leadership.
An ex-minister of Communications and Digital Economy, Prof. Isa Ali Pantami, has disclosed that despite the federal government’s humongous security funding, soldiers on the battlefield receive only a small percentage.
Responding to questions on NIN-SIM linkage and factors contributing to insecurity at the Young Professionals Colloquium held recently in Katsina State, Prof. Pantami said the country’s major insecurity setback is not related to intelligence gathering but to the failure to act on the intelligence collected.
He explained that the bulk of the federal government’s security funding remains with top officials and does not reach the soldiers on the frontline.
Pantami noted that sending soldiers to the battlefield to fight terrorists without life insurance or proper death benefits demoralises them, adding that they are aware that if they die on the battlefield, the future of their children will not be secure.
He further emphasised that Nigeria will continue to experience setbacks in security as long as the government fails to take care of the families of soldiers who are sacrificing their lives to protect the country.
He, however, urged the government to establish a mechanism to ensure that a larger portion of the security budget reaches those on the battlefield.
He said, “I admire the effort of our security institutions. Intelligence institutions like DSS and NIA. I commend their efforts because they usually intercept Intelligence but intercepting Intelligence is one thing, acting on it is another thing.
“Most of the setback we are having is not about Intelligence gathering, it is about utilising it to take action. Furthermore, based on my experience with what I did in the ministry of increasing salaries. Let me give you an example, the government is spending huge amounts of money on security. Unfortunately, an insignificant percentage is the one that is reaching our security officers who are on the battlefield. More than 90% is on top. Very insignificant is reaching them.
“You ask a soldier to go and fight kidnappers or terrorists but if he dies today, his death benefit is less than 10 million and he has 10 children at home. Who can sacrifice his life for 10 million naira? In some situations, they are getting less than 2 million naira as a death benefit. No compensation, if he dies no one will take care of his family. The system is not effective to take care of his family. Who is willing to go and sacrifice his life while his children will be out of school because of that sacrifice?
“We must work on the system to the extent that whatever is budgeted will reach the people on the battlefield. If they die on the battlefield, the system must take care of their children from where they are until they graduate from the university. If they are into business until they are successful.
“As long as our system will not take care of the families of those sacrificing their lives to protect our country, then definitely we will continue to have many setbacks in our security architecture, and there is no doubt about this. Whatever is budgeted, there should be close supervision so that it will come down to the people on the battlefield, and they should be the highest earners in Nigeria.”
There was a time in this country when professors earned more than federal permanent secretaries. That was before Nigeria happened to itself. A professor in 1973 was on a consolidated annual salary of £3,000; permanent secretaries earned £2,800. Today, the most senior professors do not take home N450,000 per month; federal permanent secretaries gross N1.3m monthly. From that gross, they pay this tax, and pay that rate and then net between N900,000 and N950,000 – more than twice the pay of the longest serving professors in Nigeria.
My source of those perm pec figures is a retired permanent secretary. He couldn’t have lied against himself. This ex-civil servant and his colleagues in service are likely to see the comparison I just made here and say my judgement or logic is perverse, that they suffer too. If such is said, I would borrow a proverb from my Fulani friend and retort that brides cry, hyena’s victims cry too but their tears are not of the same taste.
I am not the only one who has read a viral text on professors queuing for N35,000 loans to buy food rations in UNILAG. I forwarded it to some of my ogas in Ibadan and Ife last week. I also sent it to serving and retired professors in other places, fishing for gists. They all replied confirming the deflation of their tyres. One of them texted me: “I retired this year (from a federal university) after 40 years and six months, 20 of those years as a full professor, and on a monthly salary of N403,000. Today, you know what a bag of rice costs, not to talk of petrol which sells at N1,200 per litre. Now, how would one sustain a modicum of decent existence and not borrow?” I didn’t know what word of consolation to give. Another professor wrote me: “I will retire shortly and for people like me who focused on serving the system, it is good to hear these stories of post-retirement deprivation, obviously worse than pre-retirement poverty, even if close to Armageddon!”
I wrote in the first paragraph above that before 1974 in Nigeria, a professor earned £3,000 per annum. Today, my professor’s monthly salary of N403,000 translates to $243 per month. In one year, his pay would be $2,900 (or £2,169). A quick check: the purchasing power of £100 in 1973 is that of £1,242.24 today. At parity with the British pound sterling, £3,000 (Nigerian pounds) of 51 years ago equals £37,267.2 of today. How much would that be in naira terms? N83,129,657.16 per annum or N6,927,471.43 per month. If poverty reigns in places we call the ivory tower, those figures offer some explanations. If crisis and restlessness define industrial relations in our universities, it is because the teachers there are paid slave wages.
How did our smart university teachers get left behind? The English man calls female goats Does. In the very unfair, iniquitous political economy of traditional goat keeping, productive Does never belong to the absent. The goat of the one not present must always be male, the unprofitable specie that neither replicates nor multiplies itself. Varsity teachers had no seat where the knife portioned out the collective yam in the 1970s. They still do not in 2024 – although the system humours some of them as hirelings. They engage them as night soil men, services which Roman orator, Cicero, described as “vulgar” and which “incur people’s ill will.” They are never there where real actions take place. And, if you are not present or represented where decisions that affect you are being taken, your portion of pounded yam will always be smaller than the smallest. And because teachers are perpetual outsiders, their fowls get randomly eaten by weasels of power; their sheep by leopards of advantage.
There was a time in the United States when university teachers were like they lived in today’s Nigeria. They were forced by their economic circumstances to remain less than they should be. “In every teacher, a struggle for survival is going on.” Donald W. Rogers, who authored that line, started his February 1948 journal piece with this sad quote: “one can’t get rich at teaching.” My headline above was the headline he wrote. I took mine from his. Rogers wrote about teachers and two kinds of poverty which he said shared causal relations: “One can become so poor in goods while teaching as to become poor as a teacher.” But a society that pauperizes its teachers pulverizes its future. I agree with Roger’s position that the “quality of a college’s product is a function of its teachers.” Quality stands with teachers, quality falls with teachers. And it will fall where teachers struggle to live, because, as Rogers wrote, “greatness of vision and the capacity to fulfill it rarely flourish in privation.”
Between 1948 when Rogers wrote his article and now, a lot that is positive has happened to teachers in the United States. Teachers there now eat their eggs, yolk and albumin. Their “struggle for survival” of 76 years ago has been replaced with competition for excellence. Here, the stories we hear and read distress daily. The latest is the spectacle of professors and other PhDs at the University of Lagos shown on cooperative queues seeking access to loans of N35,000 to buy Ounje Eko, a psychedelic name for IDP rations. They need the money to feed their needy families. The war of survival is not being fought on the Lagos front alone; there are battlefields anywhere you see signboards that suggest schooling and lecturing. A senior professor of medicine at the University College Hospital, Ibadan, told me early this year that what Nigeria loses daily to the outside are not just young doctors and nurses, but also the senior ones, the trainers. The ones healthy enough to escape are almost all gone. But why? Why not? We may be ignorant of so many things but not the knowledge that the indentured is resource poor.
This rain beating the vulture of the Nigerian academic started a long time ago. As a university undergraduate almost four decades ago, I had a lecturer who repeatedly described his job choice as “an oath of poverty.” As a Marketing student at the polytechnic some 40 years ago, I had a young teacher who would pause his Economics lecture midway, throw away the chalk in his hand and shout “I need money!” He died shortly after I left that school. And, it wasn’t that he was an unsteady character. It was his material condition that ailed his balance.
I encountered all the above years and years ago. The experiences are as fresh as now; the cancer has metastasized. To mark the 50th anniversary of the University of Ibadan in 1998, IFRA-Nigeria organized an international conference on ‘The Dilemma of Post-Colonial Universities’. Professor Ayuba Hudu of Ahmadu Bello University delivered a paper at that conference on the working conditions of staff of Nigerian universities, using his ABU environment as his field of study. Sobering as Hudu’s findings and conclusions are, they are what we’ve always known to be true. In one instance, he discovers that as of the time of his study, “Ahmadu Bello University continues to pay N800 as night allowance to senior lecturers on research trips while officers of the same rank in the civil service are paid N7,000.” He quotes a lecturer: “Both my remuneration and working facilities are grossly inadequate. A hungry man can’t enjoy his work. As at now, lecturers do not have any living conditions. A group of people whose work demands great mental work should be properly paid so that undue external pressures for survival, decent appearance, transportation problems etc. are not allowed to distract their concentration. Until such is done, it will not be fair to talk of their work output – especially when the facilities and working environment are non-existent.”
That was 26 years ago. The situation is worse today – especially with education becoming of less importance on the scale of preference of our governments. But, what can the teachers do to cleanse the clogged arteries of their vocation? The best of them do not belong to where hard decisions that impact their lives are taken. Even if their log plunges into the depth of power and stays for ages in that water, it will never become a crocodile. And the Nigerian establishment is a mix of crocodiles and sharks.
So, will this tragedy continue till resurrection day? Sometimes a problem charts more than one road to its solution. In Jane Watson’s ‘Three Hungry Men and Strategies for Problem Solving’ (1988), we encounter a mathematical problem that offers so many avenues for possible solution. Watson gives the problem: “Three tired and hungry men went to sleep with a bag of apples. One man woke up, ate 1/3 of the apples, then went back to sleep. Later a second man woke up and ate 1/3 of the remaining apples, then went back to sleep. Finally, the third man woke up and ate 1/3 of the remaining apples. When he was finished there were 8 apples left. How many apples were in the bag originally?” Those who were asked to answer the question varied in age and social status. Some of the examined worked backward (or forward) with fractions, some without fractions and the two groups were right. One attempted the solution with a diagram, another used algebra, yet another used the ratio concept, and all came up with what they believed solved the problem. The correct answer is 27 but the examiner got from his ‘students’ 24 different strategies. In the end, some got it right, some got it wrong but all participated in finding a solution to a common problem. That is the approach I recommend here. The issue with our university system must be seen as a troubling nut that must be cracked. And, all stakeholders, including the government, must be willing to come to the table with whatever key they have for the iron door.
At the core of this problem is funding. Why can’t our country’s government accord education very high funding priority as it is giving the Lagos-Calabar coastal road? Adequate funding of the universities is a must if we will exit poverty and create equal access for children of the rich and those of the poor. The Tinubu government has a student loan programme. It will get it right if it fulfills a number of ‘ifs’: if the programme is widened to accommodate all who need and want the loans; if greed, cronyism and corruption are not allowed to kill it; if the loan consistently and adequately finances a student’s education till graduation; if repayment is not expected to come from a graduate’s joblessness; and, if it is adequately funded, public universities will, with peace of mind, charge appropriate fees. And, if the universities charge reasonably for services they render, they will be free and solvent enough to meet their obligations to staff, students and the society. Otherwise, we roll from one crisis into another.
We must avoid another season of disruption in our public university system. It will add to the poverty of the poor. ASUU has issued another strike notice and, you can’t ask the teachers who suffer willful deprivation not to go on strike. It is the only tool they have. Cries and yells cannot move a government that feigns loss of hearing. The union said last week that it had extended the 21-day ultimatum it earlier gave the government on August 18 by 14 more days within which it expected all the lingering issues to be addressed to the satisfaction of the union and its members. What are those issues? They are about adequate funding of the universities to enable them perform their duties as catalysts of development. ASUU’s demands include better working conditions for staff of the universities, release of their withheld three-and-a-half months’ salaries due to the 2022 strike action; release of unpaid salaries for staff on sabbatical, part time, and adjunct appointments affected by the Integrated Payroll and Personnel Information System (IPPIS) and release of outstanding third-party deductions such as check-off dues and cooperative contributions.
Yet, we cannot discuss and achieve national development without tackling the rot in our universities. Derek Bok, author of ‘Higher Education in America’, writes that the universities “have assumed an importance far beyond their role in earlier times.” He writes that in the modern world, colleges and universities help “to strengthen our democracy by educating its future operators.” He adds that the universities are “the country’s chief supplier of three ingredients essential to national progress—new discoveries in science, technology, and other fields of inquiry; expert knowledge of the kind essential to the work of most important institutions; and well-trained adults with the skills required to practice the professions…” The most prosperous state in the United States is California; with a nominal GDP of $3.987 trillion in 2024, it is the world’s fifth largest economy. It owes its prosperity to its wise investments in education. It is home to 35 of the world’s 50 leading AI companies. That California is “home to the most Fortune 500 companies” is a function of its creation of a robust knowledge-based economy baked by its universities.
The Nigerian system would, instead, wonder why we, at all, need professors and the universities that habour them. It would justify its stance using the law and common sense. Is it not true that the constitution which provides the framework for the government and all it does with us does not recognise colleges and universities as trainers and producers of leaders? Education “up to school certificate level” is all you need to be president of Africa’s most populous country and one of the continent’s largest economies. It will therefore be wasteful, even suicidal, to empower the universities and the heretics within their walls. Is it not historically true of our context that higher education is a pollutant of the mind? Does it not create an irreverent citizenry that asks too many questions? Do the universities not produce a population of critics who frown when knees of democracy are made to bend deep into the ground in supplication to raw power?
“How painful it is to have to go on living, despised by all, even by yourself, and at the same time keep up a brave pretence that you not only think well of yourself, but even regard yourself as a decently useful public servant.” Raphael O’Leary wrote that passage of pain and put it under a piece he entitled “Pity the Poor Teacher.” O’Leary’s “poor” speaks of a different kind of poverty – not the slave-wage or wage-slave burden crushing the Nigerian professor. Where I come from, we say what-shall-we-eat comes first before what-shall-we-do. A hungry, ill and deprived professor will profess nothing positive. His teaching will be an any-how teaching. And, if “how we teach is what we teach” as said by John H. MacArthur, a former dean of Harvard Business School, then it means we can’t use our schools to kill poverty or get our own Silicon Valley nor shall we ever escape the present dank, dark cave of negativity.
Anita Nathaniel lay tethered to the surgical table, captive between life and death. There, beneath the stern glare of fluorescent lights, inside the City of Salvation Hospital, Egbeda, Lagos, a frantic opera unfurled, echoing the sombre notes that would cast her fate in a dark shroud.
Inside the medical theatre, an electronic speaker belched gospel song that whirled like a dirge through the air. “I surrender to you! I surrender to you!” the speaker blared.
Amid the cacophonous peal of faith and surrender, Anita stirred to the sharp intrusion of a knife cutting through her belly. Barely one minute into the caesarean section that would bring her child into the world, the haze of anaesthesia receded, and the cutting pain of the surgeon’s blade sliced through her body. As the scalpel grazed her abdomen, the world around her faded into a hazy abstraction, leaving only the visceral torture of the procedure.
With every thrust of the surgeon’s hands, gobs of flesh and innards were yanked aside in reckless abandon. And the theatre erupted in a carnage of blood and gore, as the colour red splattered in stark contrast against the sterile white of the sheets.
Anita gasped. Then she wailed: “Aargh! What are you doing to me? Stop! Don’t do that! Please, don’t do that! Jesus, please save me. I am in pain! Aargh! Aargh!” Her voice, ragged with agony, was met with chilling indifference. A voice, detached and careless, tossed a dispassionate word back into the abyss of her suffering: “Sorry.”
Yet, the knife did not pause. The hands of Dr. Okusanya Abimbola pressed on, pulling and tearing, parting her flesh roughshod, scraping through her insides as though her pain was no more than the distant chirp of a cricket at dawn. As the surgeon’s hands dug deeper, Anita’s wails faded, swallowed by the clatter that enveloped the room like a funeral shroud, leaving only the refrain of the gospel song playing jarringly in the background: “I surrender to you, I surrender to you.” But in that theatre, it wasn’t Anita’s soul surrendering to divinity, the 32-year-old surrendered to the brute spunk of negligence.
In the aftermath of that grisly ballet… As the surgeon extracted the child from the ruins of the mother’s body, the air grew thick with a haunting stillness. Anita lay there, a broken vessel. Silence fell over her, like a shroud more tangible than the bloodied sheet that lay across her lifeless form. Was she gone? Or was she merely suspended in the throes of death, her spirit fighting to escape surgical torture? These questions lingered, unanswered, in the hushed theatre.
To the casual observer, the tableau was unthinkable—a macabre circus of sloppiness, where the doctor and his nursing assistant plowed Anita’s innards and tore through her flesh. A large wad of cotton wool was shoved into her gaping wound, and recklessly pulled out, in a futile effort to stanch the torrents of blood that gushed from her belly.
“I saw a nurse bring out three big bowls of blood during the operation,” recounted Evwiarivi Nathaniel, Anita’s husband, his voice quaking with unbearable grief. “I asked her what she intended to do with it, and she said she was going to pour it away,” said the chef and native of Ikeresan, Sapele, Delta State.
From the moment the theatre doors swung open, what followed was a scene bathed in confusion. Nurses scurried out of the operating room, their faces tense, yet they assured Nathaniel that, “Everything is fine.” But their restless feet told a different story. The minutes stretched into hours, each one more suffocating than the last, until finally, one of the nurses emerged with the fruit of Anita’s labour: her child, Jaden.
Nathaniel enquired about his wife, and the nurse replied that she was fine. “She said that I should just hold on to my new born baby,” he said, revealing his disappointment that the hospital had no baby cot to keep the child. Nathaniel’s heart clung to the newborn in his arms, but his wife’s absence gnawed at his spirit. “She’s fine,” resounded the assurance, hollow in its echo.
Time passed, too much time, and then, the truth hurtled from a nurse’s lips, like a dagger through his chest. Anita was gone. His beloved wife had bled out, distressed and lonely, on the surgical table.
Under the blade of silence Until her death, Anita had cut a perfect picture of good health. Her antenatal checkups had shown no sign of complications even as her vitals echoed with promise of a safe delivery. “She couldn’t wait to birth our first child,” disclosed Nathaniel. But fate, draped in the sterile white of a surgical gown, had other plans.
Indeed, the City of Salvation Hospital was no stranger to Anita. Its cold halls had witnessed her belaboured plod through the delicate dance of pregnancy, each antenatal visit a rehearsal for the grand performance of birth. Yet when her water broke at 1:00 am on August 15, 2023, the future shimmered with hope and an undercurrent of unease. Nathaniel called the hospital but a nurse’s voice, seemingly draped in the sluggishness of night, urged him to wait till daybreak before he brought Anita in. But spurred by excitement and first-time naivety, Nathaniel spirited his wife to the clinic at 4:30 am. His heart heavy with anticipation and a subtle, creeping dread.
On getting to the hospital, a scan was conducted on Anita to determine the progression of her labour. But the 32-year-old was far from the image of fragility one might expect. She walked, she climbed stairs, did squats, guided by the nurse’s calm instructions. Her body, full of life, seemed ready for the gruelling birthing process ahead.
“At 9:00 am the nurse took my wife to run a scan, when the result was out, I took the result and scanned it to my brother, Amos Evwiarivi, so he could show his doctor friends to ascertain if everything was alright. My brother thereafter confirmed to me that his doctor friend said from the scan, everything was okay,” said Nathaniel. But this was a temporary salve to his growing unease – for soon, Ifedolu Oreitan, a nurse playing the role of a “resident doctor,” cast a shadow over the morning with his sudden suggestion of a caesarean section. Oreitan subsequently admitted in a court deposition that he examined Anita and concluded that the baby would be best delivered via a caesarean section. “I made my recommendation for c-section around 9:00 am that same day of August 15, 2023.” This was yet another interesting episode in the build up to the tragedy as Oreitan, being a nurse, lacked the professional and ethical capacity to recommend a procedure that was best determined by a qualified obstetric surgeon.
Anita died in severe painsPhoto Credit: The Nation
Nathaniel refused, stressing that he and his wife wanted her to have a normal vaginal delivery. Neither the innuendo of complicated labour or death scared Anita, in particular. And so, they waited. Anita, though now tethered to the hospital bed by a drip, seemed a pillar of strength. But as time stretched, her moans of discomfort grew intense, the pain writhing in her like a snake coiled in her belly.
Oreitan returned, more insistent now, his words ringing with an urgency that Nathaniel could not ignore. With his wife’s agony more evident, Nathaniel relented and paid N150,000 of a N300, 000 surgical bill. “After making the payment, I was assured that the surgeon would join them shortly. But my wife had to wait for well over eight hours before the surgeon arrived,” said Nathaniel.
The attending surgeon, Dr. Abimbola did not appear until late in the afternoon, he said. And when he finally did, it wasn’t with the air of urgency or in the careful assembly of a skilled team, but with Nurse Oreitan, and two auxiliary nurses. This was a flagrant violation of medical personnel specifications for a caeserean section: One obstetric surgeon, one assistant surgeon, an anaesthesiologist, a paediatrician, and two qualified nurses.
In the City of Salvation Hospital’s medical theatre, the crucial figure of an anesthesiologist was missing, an omission that would become the linchpin in the unfolding tragedy.
Although, Anita walked into the theatre by herself, hoping to reemerge hale and hearty with her baby, she didn’t. After waiting for a while one of their nurses came out and broke the sad news of her death to her husband. “It was traumatising for me. I became miserable and heartbroken, knowing my child had become motherless and left without motherly love,” said Nathaniel.
By the time his wife breathed her last, however, the dubious gear of deception was in full swing. A death certificate, hastily issued by the Ogun State Health Board—hundreds of miles from where Anita drew her last breath was handed to her husband, Nathaniel. The certificate, a pale slip of paper meant to account for Anita’s sudden death, raised more questions instead. Why an Ogun State death certificate, when Anita had died in Lagos? The answers lay in a cover-up meticulously crafted by the hospital.
What Anita experienced in her final hours In Anita’s final moments, the anaesthesia evidently failed to maintain the necessary depth of unconsciousness, thus causing her to wake feel intense pain as the surgeon cut into her abdomen and manipulated her internal organs. Her body’s natural response to such extreme pain was to activate the fight or flight mechanism, increasing her heart rate, blood pressure, and stress hormone levels. However, in a patient weakened by childbirth, this physiological response can be dangerous. The massive loss of blood and initial surge in blood pressure (hypertension) could have caused damage, but as the surgery progressed and her blood loss increased, her blood pressure would have dropped dangerously low (hypotension). This hypotension reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the heart, kidneys, and brain, leading to potential organ failure, and subsequent death, argued an obstetric surgeon with a Lagos based university teaching hospital, who pleaded anonymity.
In other words, as the cold blade of the scalpel pierced the thin veil of Anita’s flesh, she should have been lost in the deep, dreamless sleep that “general anesthesia” promises—a twilight where pain and fear do not tread. But the anesthetic, meant to keep pain at bay, had thinned away, leaving her vulnerable to the sharp, unsparing stab of the surgeon’s blade.
When her eyes fluttered open on the surgical table, Anita must have felt like a lamb betrayed by its shepherd, waking to the jaws of a ravenous wolf. The searing agony that coursed through her veins was not just the sting of the incision, but the excruciating sensation of her flesh being parted, layer by tender layer, while her consciousness was trapped in a body that could not cry out, that could not flee. The nerves in her abdomen screamed in violent protest, sending shockwaves of unbearable pain into her spine, her limbs, her very soul. Her mind, swimming in the confusion of half-wakefulness, must have wrestled with the agony of it all—unable to comprehend how she could still feel, still hurt, while the very essence of life bled away from her. Hence her initial plea and wailing of being in pain.
Anita’s final moments were not just a medical catastrophe—they were an unutterable violation of the sanctity of life, a tearing of her soul from her body while still tethered to the torturous sensations of mortality. The surgeon, while doubling as an anesthetist, evidently lacked the competence to shield her from pain. Thus on his watch, Anita’s body, once a vessel of life and creation, became a crucible of unimaginable torment and death.
The grim statistics Anita’s tragic fate unfurled as yet another thread in the fabric of Nigeria’s maternal mortality conundrum, a grim statistic that haunts the hospital corridors of a nation grappling with the spectre of death. Nigeria holds the tragic title of one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the world. In 2020 alone, around 82,000 women succumbed to the perils of childbirth—each death a cruel reminder of a broken healthcare system, marred by neglect and incompetence.
Amidst this tragedy, the statistics loom ominously. Nigeria’s maternal mortality rate stands at a staggering 1,047 deaths per 100,000 births, a haunting figure that casts a long shadow over the aspirations of countless mothers.
“The causes of death included severe hemorrhage, high blood pressure, unsafe abortion, and obstructed labor,” reports the World Health Organization (WHO, 2020), illuminating the harrowing reality that women like Anita face daily. With only one doctor available for every 4,000-5,000 patients, the lack of care transforms the act of childbirth into a roll of the dice—a gamble where the stakes are life and death.
Anita, in her tragic demise, further illustrates the chaos emblematic of Nigeria’s deathly maternity wards – nurses scurrying in disarray, desperately seeking medications that never arrived, leaving her vulnerable and alone in her hour of need.
How City of Salvation Sought to Bury Anita Nathaniel’s Death An autopsy conducted by the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH) unveiled chilling truths. While the medical team sought to attribute Anita’s death to heart failure, it was discovered that the records had been manipulated. Blood pressure readings, once steady, were altered in a desperate attempt to cover the traces of malpractice that led to his wife’s demise.
The ink marks on the charts, a testament to the deceit, revealed the extent to which the medical personnel conspired to obscure the truth. “The blood pressure initially recorded for my late wife was 110/70,” he noted with bitter clarity, “but upon her death, it was changed to 170/120.”
Investigators from the Nigeria Police Force, led by Investigating Police Officer (IPO), SP Hauwa Idris Adamu, visited the hospital in search of the truth. What they found, however, was a litany of anomalies— there was no anesthesiologist, no pediatrician, no assistant surgeon. Dr. Abimbola had conducted the surgery without a qualified team.
“Instead of referring the deceased to a General Hospital for better care, the suspect (Dr. Abimbola) made a trial-by-error approach. The issuance of an Ogun State Health Board Death Certificate instead of one from Lagos State, where the hospital is located, raised concerns,” according to the IPO’s report.
The hospital itself became a scene of concealment. Key documents, including Anita’s antenatal records, vanished into thin air. The files that remained had been tampered with, manipulated in a desperate attempt to erase the hospital’s role in her death.
The hospital management claimed they were safeguarding the files, which further deepened the investigators’ concerns. The management, when confronted, offered nothing but vague explanations.
Although the hospital was sealed by the Health Facility Monitoring and Accreditation Agency (HEFAMAA), in the wake of the incident last year, findings further revealed that HEFAMAA conveniently turned a blind eye as the City of Salvation Hospital resumed operations amid a frantic makeover of its hitherto derelict facilities. Evidence crucial to the investigation of Anita’s death disappeared. When the police returned for a second inspection, the scene had been tainted, the clues to Anita’s death now swallowed in a haze of hasty renovation.
In the aftermath of Anita’s death, the police arrested Nurse Oreitan, whose role in the operating room was deemed inappropriate and illegal. And then, there was Dr. Abimbola—the man whose hands had wielded the scalpel and whom the police identified as the principal suspect. He came forward, but not as one burdened with guilt. He arrived at the police station on October 19, 2023 (almost two months after the incident) flanked by lawyers. He was subsequently charged and made a voluntary statement.
Attempts to speak with Dr. Abimbola have so far been unproductive. Since Tuesday, September 24, he has repeatedly spurned attempts to interview him, ignoring five successful calls to his phone at 12:10 pm, 12:11 pm, 12:27 pm, 12:29 pm and 13:24 pm, respectively. At the fifth try, he switched off his phone, and subsequently ignored a message and request for an interview over late Anita’s botched C-section.
On Friday, September 27, more calls were placed to his second phone number, but having answered the call, he ended it abruptly, just after identifying that he was Dr. Okusanya Abimbola. Subsequently, five successful calls were placed to his line at 9:30 am, 9:31 am, 9:32 am, 9:33 am and 9:38 am, respectively. Then a message was sent to his line – which also bears an associated identity with Atlas Medicare – via normal SMS route and WhatsApp at exactly 9:42 am, establishing that he had repeatedly ignored the news medium’s calls.
To this he sent the terse response: “Good morning Sir/Ma. I have received your message. Will respond to you shortly via WhatsApp.” Even though The Nation sent him a couple of questions, urging him to respond to allegations made against him by Nathaniel and the City of Salvation Hospital, Dr. Abimbola failed to respond.
However, a perusal of his court deposition revealed that Dr. Abimbola, like his former employer, the City of Salvation Hospital, seeks absolution from liability for Anita’s botched surgery and subsequent death.
Abimbola, who until his sack, was the Medical Director of City of Salvation Hospital, held that late Anita presented with high blood pressure (170/120 mm Hg), eclampsia. And that despite the doctor (Nurse Oreitan)’s advice for an elective caeserian section, she and her husband declined, opting for a vaginal delivery based on their faith. “They also declined admission saying that they will apply their faith and pray for a vaginal delivery,” he said.
Dr Abimbola claimed that he already booked for an anaesthesiologist but the couple’s delay in agreeing to a C-Section prevented the former from being part of the surgery – thus establishing that the hospital had no in-house anaesthesiologist.
He said, “When I weighed the consequences of a further delay, I decided to go ahead with the C-Section in the hope of saving the life of the mother and her baby. I opted for a mild general anaesthetic since there was no one to give the deceased spinal anaesthesia. The dosage was subliminal since I did not want her BP (Blood Pressure) to shoot up. The baby came out very weak and floppy but responded to resuscitation. Suddenly SPO2 (Saturated Percentage of Oxygen) was noticed to be dropping and the deceased stopped breathing. CPR (Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation) was commenced immediately. All efforts at resuscitation proved unfruitful and abortive. I pronounced her dead at about 4pm. In my opinion, the cause of death was intra op of complications of eclampsia which resulted from the delay in performing the CS due to the delay in giving consent.” Dr. Abimbola, however, claimed that he performed the C-Section on late Anita “professionally and diligently” to the best of his ability and training as a medical doctor.
Hospital ducks liability, accuses sacked surgeon of culpability At The Nation‘s visit to the City of Salvation Hospital in Egbeda, it was discovered that Dr. Abimbola, has been sacked. The nursing staff murmured that the very nurse who stood by him in that fatal surgery had also been dismissed as if their mere presence could resurrect the spectre of their errors.
Speaking with The Nation, the hospital’s current Medical Director, Dr. Adeyiwolu Damilare, hinted at the failures of his predecessor. In a subtle disclaimer, he stated that, “A doctor must approach and recognise each case as a peculiar one. He must be cautious in handling cases. What if the patient is his blood relative, he would take extra care, won’t he? If the woman (late Anita) walked in with her two legs, are you, as the doctor saying you don’t know when to intervene and how to intervene? If you take the vitals and you see that you don’t have the facilities to manage her case, the next thing for you to do as the doctor is to get a quick intervention,” he said.
According to him, immediately a doctor realises that a patient’s case is beyond his facility, he must seek emergency intervention from a more equipped facility. “That is when you know a good doctor. We know when a patient’s case is going to deteriorate. We know if we have the equipment to manage it or not. When you give an anaesthetic agent, you factor in the weight and body mass of the patient. This would determine the degree of anaesthesic agent that will be used on the patient. Someone with greater body fat or mass would require greater quantity to prevent it from wearing off earlier. Once it wears off on your patient and you see that you are not done with the surgery, you look at the blood pressure and it is hitting the roof, you shouldn’t administer anaesthesia on the patient again, because if you do, it’s going to cause a hypertensive emergency.”
With a pastoral calm that belied the tragedy, Pastor Abel, the hospital’s spiritual overseer, argued that, “This is not between the hospital and the Nathaniel family. The matter lies between Dr. Abimbola and the Nathaniels,” he said. His words, like a feeble prayer, sought to absolve the hospital of guilt against the weight of the facts: the surgery, the negligence, the tragic end—all that transpired under the hospital’s roof.
The standard practice for caeserian section Dr. Habeebah Ishaq, a UK-based Consultant Paediatrician and former staff of Reddington Hospital, explained that Anita’s death likely resulted from a broken or damaged blood vessel, possibly due to accidental ligation of a blood vessel. She emphasised that a proper caesarean section requires at least two doctors—one lead surgeon and an assistant—along with a qualified anaesthetist, an assistant anaesthetist, and one or two trained nurses, not auxiliary nurses. She described it as criminal negligence that only one doctor, one nursing assistant, and auxiliary nurses performed Anita’s surgery, arguing that an anaesthetist could have alleviated Anita’s pain instead of relying on one person acting as both surgeon and anaesthetist.
She clarified that the surgeon’s role is to operate and ensure the mother’s safety, while managing pain and anesthesia is the anesthetist’s responsibility, and that Anita’s waking up during surgery indicated a failure in proper anesthesia administration.
Dr. Ishaq explained that the standard practice for caesarean sections is to use spinal anesthesia, which numbs the lower body without putting the patient to sleep. General anesthesia is only used in cases of complications during labour where there is an immediate threat to the baby’s life. Proper general anesthesia would have kept Anita unconscious throughout the surgery and into recovery, preventing her from waking prematurely, she said.
The shortage of skilled anaesthesiologists in Nigeria is a significant contributor to the country’s high maternal mortality rate, especially among women undergoing Caesarean sections (CS). Anaesthesiologists play a vital role in ensuring the safety of women during surgery by managing pain and preventing complications.
Anaesthetists have knowledge of acute physiology and are adept at fluid management, invasive monitoring and other aspects of intensive care, thus, they are an integral part of the team managing obstetric complications, including the critically ill mother with obstetric haemorrhage, sepsis or eclampsia, according to Prof. Elizabeth Ogboli-Nwasor, of the Department of Anaesthesia, Ahmadu Bello University Teaching Hospital, Zaria, Kaduna.
On her part, Dr. Bisola Onajin-Obembe, the President of The Global Alliance of Surgical, Obstetric, Trauma, and Anesthesia Care (G4 Alliance), emphasised the need to address the critical shortage of anesthesia providers in Africa. Though the continent houses nearly 17% of the global population, most people lack access to safe anesthesia services due to a dire shortfall in trained professionals. For instance, while the U.S. has around 20 anesthesiologists per 100,000 people, Nigeria averages only 0.58. This disparity, according to her, highlights the global anesthesia workforce crisis, with sub-Saharan Africa particularly falling far below the recommended four anesthetists per 100,000 population. By 2030, the region will need more than 300,000 additional anesthesiologists.
Drawing from her extensive experience as a lead consultant anesthesiologist at the University of Port Harcourt Teaching Hospital and her involvement in Nigeria’s National Surgical, Obstetrics, Anaesthesia, and Nursing Plan (NSOANP), she advocated recently, for an in-depth understanding of regional healthcare systems, emphasising the need for strategic planning, collaboration with established institutions to create effective training programs. She noted that partnerships with entities like the University of Global Health Equity and the G4 Alliance are crucial to enhancing health equity and leadership in anesthesia.
But that is in the longrun, in the shortrun, thousands of pregnant Nigerian women will continue to prowl the dim corridors of private medical facilities, like the City of Salvation Hospital – where they may be subjected to the mercy of arbitrary elements.
One year after, the hospital’s corridors stay dimmed by the veil of silence hastily drawn over sordid details of the newly married bride and first-time mother’s tragic demise.
The truth, however, is as fragile as the 32-year-old’s final breath, and stays buried beneath layers of excuses. As Nathaniel, the deceased’s widower, grapples with her loss, he is bent on securing justice against the hospital and the medical personnel deemed liable for her botched surgery. So doing, he hopes to inspire many who had suffered a similar fate to seek redress. Besides filing a petition for an inquest into the suspicious death of his wife, he has also instituted legal action against the hospital and the personnel deemed complicit.
To Nathaniel, Anita’s death was no mere happenstance of fate, but a grievous wound carved by mortal hands—by a system that cloaked itself in promises of sanctuary, only to surrender her to death’s unfeeling embrace. It was not nature that claimed her, but negligence draped in white coats.
For the 37-year-old, moving forward is a pilgrimage through grief and struggle. He fights for justice with trembling resolve, even as he shoulders the weight of fatherhood alone, tending to his 13-month-old son, Jaden, who knows nothing of the motherless world he has been born into.
Each day without her is a chasm that swallows Nathaniel whole—a void no measure of time can fill. And in the quiet shadows of the night, as he cradles his son to sleep, the echoes of that fateful day return to haunt him. He recalls the nurse’s hollow reassurance, the cruel illusion of safety, even as Anita lay bleeding out—her life ebbing away beneath the surgeon’s blade, her body cooling on the sterile altar of failed care.
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