“The healer who is wounded in the act of healing the patients is not an aberration. She is a symptom. And symptoms, properly read, point to the disease beneath.”
She bought the gloves herself.
Not because the hospital had none. What remained was the wrong size, the wrong type, or simply too few to risk using on a patient whose fever had already claimed two nurses in the neighbouring ward.
This is not a story about a remote clinic or a rogue administrator. It is about a system that has learned to treat the suffering of its healers as an operational cost – rather than a moral failure.
The Healer And The Invisible Hazard
Every healthcare system carries occupational risk. The question is not whether risk exists, but whether the system mitigates it.
In Nigeria, that question receives an uncomfortable answer.
Consider Lassa fever. Between 2019 and September 2025, 249 healthcare workers were infected with this haemorrhagic disease in the line of duty.
In the current outbreak season alone, 39 more have been infected, with deaths reported among clinical staff. The majority of infections occur during the predictable dry season – yet preparation remains uneven.
A study across Northern Nigeria found that fewer than half of healthcare workers regularly adhere to correct PPE use.
At a basic health centre in Ondo State, staff described making do with nose masks and self-purchased gloves because standard supplies were unavailable.
The Factories Act (a colonial relic) mandates employers to provide protective equipment. Its penalties? A fine not exceeding ₦1,000 for failing to report accidents. Its application to healthcare? Uncertain. The National Policy on Occupational Safety and Health goes further – but lacks direct enforceability.
A worker who contracts Lassa Fever because her employer failed to provide PPE may, after the fact, claim compensation under the Employees’ Compensation Act 2010. That Act, however, is reactive. It compensates injury – it does not prevent it.
The Exhaustion Epidemic
If infection is the visible hazard, exhaustion is the silent one.
In November 2025, the National Association of Resident Doctors (NARD) revealed that some members were working between 106 and 126 hours per week. A standard work week is 35–48 hours. These doctors are working the equivalent of three fulltime jobs – often without guaranteed pay.
An exhausted doctor is an impaired doctor. Sleep deprivation slows reaction time, reduces diagnostic accuracy, and impairs judgment.
As one chief medical director observed: no one would board a plane flown by an unrested pilot. Why should patients be treated by an exhausted doctor?
The Federal Government recognised the problem in January 2026, inaugurating a Ministerial Committee on Work Hour Regulation. Whether that produces enforceable standards remains to be seen.
The Psychological Wound
Less visible, but no less real, is the psychological toll of working in a system that demands more than it gives.
Chronic uncertainty – unreliable power, outdated equipment, staffing ratios that would be unthinkable elsewhere – produces cumulative moral distress. Layer upon this the ambient fear of violence, and the result is a workforce under sustained psychological siege.
The Employees’ Compensation Act recognises mental stress arising from “sudden traumatic events” or “chronic work conditions” as compensable.
But the procedural requirements – notification within 14 days, employer reporting within seven days – assume a culture of transparency that often does not exist.
Many workers fear stigma. Many employers fear reputational damage. Disaggregated data on healthcare worker claims is not published, making accountability impossible to track.
The Dignity Imperative
Section 34 of the Constitution guarantees the right to dignity. Section 17 imposes on the state the duty to ensure adequate medical facilities.
These provisions create a mutual obligation: the state owes the patient adequate care, and owes the healthcare worker conditions that permit the delivery of that care without self-annihilation.
The healthcare worker is not a fungible resource. She is a person who has chosen to serve the vulnerable – and is entitled, in return, to be treated as an end in herself.
The dignity of the patient and the dignity of the healer are not in tension. They are inseparable.
What Must Change
First, the Occupational Health and Safety Bill before the National Assembly – which explicitly extends protection to healthcare workers – must be enacted without further delay.
Second, work hour regulation must move from committee to enforceable standard. The 106-hour week is not commitment; it is systemic failure.
Third, PPE must be standardised, prepositioned, and provided at employer cost – as a statutory obligation, not an act of generosity.
Fourth, psychological injury must be destigmatised and properly compensated – through legal recognition and cultural change.
Fifth, the Nigeria Social Insurance Trust Fund (NSITF) must publish disaggregated data on healthcare worker claims. Transparency is essential to accountability.
Know Your Rights (Healthcare Workers)
Your Right
What It Means
Safe workplace
International labour standards entitle you to a safe environment.
PPE at no cost
Your employer should provide necessary protective equipment.
Report hazards
In principle, you can report unsafe conditions without retaliation.
Compensation
If injured or made ill by work, claim under the Employees’ Compensation Act 2010.
Proposed OSH Bill
If passed, will strengthen all these protections.
The Bottom Line
A healthcare system that exhausts its workers cannot sustain them. A system that conceals its failures cannot correct them.
The question is not whether Nigeria can afford to protect its healthcare workers. It is whether Nigeria can afford not to.
The healer who is wounded in the act of healing the patients is not an aberration. She is a symptom. And symptoms, properly read, point to the disease beneath.
