“When there are too few doctors in the hospitals, patients wait longer. When experienced doctors leave, those who remain carry heavier workloads.”
Imagine this…
Resident Doctors And Crisis In Nigeria’s Hospitals
A young doctor has been in the hospital since yesterday. She has barely slept. She has seen more patients than she can reasonably count. She is carrying the anxiety of unpaid bills and the fatigue of another night on call.
Outside the consulting room, relatives are waiting. Inside, another patient needs her attention.
She is exhausted.
But the patient does not see the exhaustion.
The patient sees the doctor. And expects her to save a life.
This is not simply a story about doctors. It is a story about what happens to patients when the people entrusted with their care are themselves pushed beyond the limits of human endurance.
The Warning That Keeps Returning
On 27 June 2026, the Nigerian Association of Resident Doctors (NARD) extended by four weeks an earlier 21-day ultimatum to the Federal Government, warning that industrial harmony could not be guaranteed beyond the new deadline.
The association cited unresolved welfare and professional issues, including outstanding salaries and allowances and the non-disbursement of the 2026 Medical Residency Training Fund (MRTF).
Among the demands were the outstanding 25/35 per cent CONMESS upward-review arrears and 19 months of professional allowance arrears.
By 30 July, NARD announced that it would embark on a total and comprehensive nationwide strike from 10 August if its demands were not addressed.
On 4 August, the Chief of Staff to the President, Femi Gbajabiamila, convened a meeting at the Presidential Villa attended by senior government officials and NARD leadership.
Emerging from the meeting, NARD President Dr Mohammad Suleiman said: “Today, I can tell you, our matters are solved.”
Timelines were agreed. Government committed to addressing outstanding salary-related issues, while negotiations on the Collective Bargaining Agreement were to be fast-tracked.
But the statement did not mean that all outstanding obligations had already been discharged. NARD subsequently suspended its planned nationwide strike, while giving government time to implement the commitments.
That distinction matters.
Because in Nigeria, an agreement is sometimes treated as the end of a crisis.
For the person waiting to be paid, it is only the beginning.
The Crisis Has Not Disappeared; It Has Moved
By early September, resident doctors at the Ladoke Akintola University of Technology Teaching Hospital (LAUTECH), Ogbomoso, were again at the centre of an industrial dispute.
Their demands included payment of outstanding minimum-wage arrears, promotion and accoutrement allowance arrears, implementation of the new professional allowance, release of the Medical Residency Training Fund, improved manpower and renovation of doctors’ call rooms and on-call facilities.
They also called for appropriate working-hour regulation to curb excessive duty schedules and burnout.
NARD warned of severe manpower shortages at the institution and said the situation was affecting specialist training, service delivery and patient care.
The message is difficult to miss:
The crisis did not disappear. It moved.
The Violence Problem
The problem is not only money.
In July 2026, NARD condemned the assault of a female Senior Registrar at the University of Ilorin Teaching Hospital (UITH), following the death of a child who had been receiving treatment at the hospital.
According to NARD, a relative of the deceased child physically attacked the doctor at the Emergency Paediatrics Unit, pushing her against a wooden table and injuring her back.
The association demanded stronger protection for healthcare workers and supported a warning strike by the hospital’s resident doctors.
Then came the University of Uyo Teaching Hospital.
In May, the Akwa Ibom State branch of the Nigerian Medical Association (NMA) commenced an indefinite strike over what it described as the assault, arrest and detention of medical personnel by operatives of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC).
The EFCC denied the allegations and said its operatives had gone to the hospital to authenticate a medical report connected with a suspect.
The dispute was eventually resolved following intervention by the Akwa Ibom State Government. The EFCC apologised, and the health unions suspended their industrial action.
These are allegations, and due process must be respected.
But the pattern is concerning.
A hospital should be one of the places where human vulnerability receives protection.
It should not become a place where doctors and nurses fear being attacked while trying to care for the sick.
Dignity Belongs To The Healer Too
Nigeria’s Constitution does not divide human dignity into “patient dignity” and “doctor dignity”.
Section 34 protects the dignity of every person.
That word—every—matters.
The patient has dignity.
The doctor has dignity.
The nurse has dignity.
The pharmacist has dignity.
And the cleaner who spends the night cleaning a busy emergency ward has dignity.
The dignity of the healthcare worker is not an obstacle to the dignity of the patient.
It is part of it.
A doctor who is unpaid for months remains professionally responsible for patients. But she does not cease to be a human being with rights because she has taken an oath to serve.
Professional responsibility cannot mean human disposability.
The Patient Is Also The Victim
When a doctor is exhausted, the patient may pay the price.
When there are too few doctors, patients wait longer.
When experienced doctors leave, those who remain carry heavier workloads.
When resident doctors withdraw their services in an industrial dispute, patients experience disruption.
And when a health system continually loses trained professionals, the consequences eventually reach the person lying on the hospital bed.
In April 2025, the Coordinating Minister of Health and Social Welfare, Professor Muhammad Pate, said more than 16,000 Nigerian doctors had left the country in the preceding five to seven years to seek opportunities abroad.
This is the so-called “japa” problem.
But perhaps we have been asking the wrong question.
The question should not simply be:
“Why are our doctors leaving?”
It should be:
“What would make staying a rational choice?”
A Better Bargain
The solution is not simply to tell doctors to be patriotic.
Patriotism is not a substitute for a salary.
It is not a substitute for safe accommodation.
It is not a substitute for functioning equipment.
It is not a substitute for protection against violence.
And it is certainly not a substitute for the timely payment of earned remuneration.
Government and hospital authorities must honour their lawful and agreed payment obligations within agreed timelines.
Residency funding must reach eligible doctors.
Workload and call-duty arrangements should be consistent with safe clinical practice.
Hospitals must provide safe working environments.
Complaints of assault must be taken seriously and investigated promptly.
And when government enters into agreements with healthcare workers, those agreements must mean something.
The Dignity Bargain
There is a principle that should guide Nigeria’s health policy:
The person who cares for the patient is also entitled to care.
That does not excuse negligence.
It does not give doctors immunity from accountability.
Quite the opposite.
It recognises that professional accountability works best within a system that respects the professional as a human being.
A doctor should be accountable for the care she provides.
Government should be accountable for the conditions under which that care is provided.
Hospital management should be accountable for workplace safety.
And the law should protect both sides of the relationship.
The Next Time You Enter A Public Hospital
The next time you enter a public hospital and see a resident doctor moving from one patient to another, pause for a moment.
You may see a professional.
But you are also looking at a human being.
She may be tired.
She may be worried about a salary arrear.
She may have spent the previous night treating emergencies.
She may have been shouted at—or threatened—earlier that day.
And yet, when she enters your consulting room, she is expected to concentrate on you.
That is an extraordinary demand to place upon another human being.
Nigeria should be grateful for the doctors who continue to carry it.
But gratitude is not a health policy.
Dignity is not a favour. It is a right.
And if we want our hospitals to protect the dignity of patients, we must build a system that protects the dignity of those who care for them.
Because sometimes the first patient a broken health system creates is the healer herself.
Know Your Rights
Patients: In an emergency, patients should seek immediate medical attention and should not be subjected to unlawful barriers to care.
The Compulsory Treatment and Care for Victims of Gunshot Wounds Act 2017 provides specific protections for victims of gunshot wounds and should not be confused with a general emergency-treatment statute.
Healthcare Workers: Healthcare workers are entitled to lawful remuneration and safe working conditions, and they are protected by the general criminal law against assault and other unlawful violence.
Reporting: Assault should be reported to the appropriate law-enforcement authorities.
Where the conduct also raises questions of professional misconduct, a complaint may be made through the appropriate regulatory mechanism, including the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria in matters concerning medical practitioners. The MDCN provides an online mechanism for complaints against doctors.
Dignity: Section 34 of the Constitution protects the dignity of every person—patient and healer alike.
•Sanu is a Nigerian lawyer and health law scholar. This column breaks down complex health laws for everyday Nigerians.
