By Suleiman Musa Ahmed
The “Renewed Hope” agenda of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu must extend beyond the boardrooms of Abuja and into the corridors of our tertiary hospitals, where hope currently goes to die. On Thursday, May 14, 2024, I witnessed firsthand the collapse of our healthcare system—not due to a lack of medical knowledge, but due to a total breakdown of administrative soul and basic logistics at the University of Abuja Teaching Hospital (UATH), Gwagwalada.
The nightmare began at 2:32 am. I raced against time to transport my cousin’s 11-month-old daughter, Barakat Ayuba Umar, to the UATH Emergency Pediatric Unit. She was battling a stalled recovery from malaria and had fallen into convulsions.
What followed over the next five hours was a masterclass in systemic negligence. Despite the efforts of the doctors on call to stabilize her, three critical “red flags” turned a treatable emergency into a death sentence.
First was the scarcity of the mundane. In a federal teaching hospital, the in-house pharmacy lacked simple medical adhesive plaster. This meant the cannula—the lifeline for her intravenous medication—could not be properly secured. In her restless, emergency state, the line was repeatedly displaced, disrupting the flow of life-saving fluids.
Second, in the midst of her struggle to breathe—having fallen into a coma—the medical team insisted on moving her from the emergency unit to a ward. I protested. Moving an unstable infant who is dependent on oxygen is a gamble with death. My fears were realized: during the transfer, the intravenous line failed again, leading to cardiac arrest. Despite frantic CPR efforts, Barakat breathed her last at 7:43 am.
Third, the administrative rot was laid bare by the absence of the night duty record officer, who was nowhere to be found until dawn. The Chief Matron appeared only at the final hour, seemingly more interested in interrogating the grieving parents than addressing the clinical failures that led to their loss.
Barakat’s death is not just a family tragedy; it is a symptom of a “New Mortuary” culture in our teaching hospitals. When a tertiary institution cannot provide plaster, and when administrative protocols override the immediate stabilization of a dying infant, the system is not just broken—it is lethal.
I am calling on the Chief Medical Director, Professor Thairu Yunusa, and the Honourable Minister of Health, Prof. Ali Pate, to look beyond the paperwork and investigate the operational decay at UATH Gwagwalada. To the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria (MDCN) and the National Assembly Committees on Health: the “brain drain” is a problem, but “administrative rot” is the immediate killer.
We cannot continue to entrust the lives of Nigerians to institutions that lack the basic tools of the trade and the basic empathy of the profession. For Barakat and the many unnamed infants who have died in silence, there must be accountability. Mr. President, the rot in Gwagwalada requires your urgent intervention.
*Suleiman Musa Ahmed is a strategist and development expert on good governance. He writes from Abuja.
