Dr. Emeka Onwuliri, a resident doctor at Specialist Hospital in Gwagwalada, fields weekly calls from friends who have emigrated to Canada, the UK, or Saudi Arabia. “They ask me if I’d leave too. It’s wonderful,” he says. “But if we all leave, who will be left to take care of our people?“
The exodus of Nigerian healthcare professionals is reaching critical levels. More than 15,000 physicians have departed in the past five years, according to Health Minister Muhammad Ali Pate. Nurses and other medical staff are also leaving in droves, lured by better pay, improved working conditions, and clearer career pathways abroad.
This is not merely a medical crisis—it is an economic and political one. Without swift intervention, Nigeria’s healthcare system risks collapse, with dire consequences for the nation’s future.
At the core of the problem is an underfunded and overstretched system. Public hospitals lack essential equipment, modern technology and adequate staffing. Overburdened doctors routinely work 24-hour shifts.
“I have a 24-hour shift in an emergency ward for 30 patients, but we normally have over 80,” says Dr. Onwuliri. “We don’t even have standard drugs, and we end up having to improvise what we do.”
Salaries are another point of contention. A Nigerian doctor earns between 200,000 and 400,000 naira ($250–$500) per month. Their UK counterparts start at around £2,500 ($3,100). The government’s attempts at retention—a slight salary increase here, a handful of new hires there—have done little to stem the tide.
“These are token gestures,” says Dr. Adeyemi, another physician. “They don’t address the root issues like lack of modern facilities, career stalling and bureaucratic bottlenecks in medical training. If you want people to stay, give them a reason other than patriotism.”
In response, the government has introduced a National Policy on Health Workforce Migration. It promises investments in infrastructure, drug supply, and professional development. But the exodus continues. Nigeria’s doctor-patient ratio remains abysmally low—roughly 1,000 percent below the WHO’s recommendation, says Nigerian Medical Association President Bala Audu.
The economic implications are staggering. Training a doctor is costly, with much of the funding coming from the government. Yet, after investing millions in medical education, Nigeria sees little return as doctors leave.
“If we had kept a quarter of the doctors who left in the last five years, we would have superior hospitals,” argues Professor Abdulrahman Sule, an economist at the University of Abuja. “Nigerians wouldn’t be paying to go outside the country for routine procedures.”
Beyond the loss of skilled hands, migration disrupts innovation in pharmaceuticals and medical research. It takes years to replace a seasoned doctor. The allure of better pay and conditions abroad is strong, but Sule argues that the government could compete by offering housing allowances, hazard pay and clearer career pathways.
Investments in digital health infrastructure, such as electronic records and telemedicine, could also help redistribute health workers and improve care.
Despite Nigeria’s growing population and widening health disparities, the government spends less than four percent of GDP on healthcare. Attempts to curb migration—higher pay for resident doctors, service bonds for medical students, even restrictions on exit visas—have largely failed.
“You can’t coerce someone into stay in a failing system,” says public health analyst Dr. Adaeze Okonkwo. “The government must make healthcare attractive, not simply erect barriers to leaving.”
Amid the gloom, the private sector is stepping in. Companies like Flying Doctors Nigeria and health management organizations (HMOs) are expanding access through telemedicine and private insurance.
“We cannot look up to the government alone,” says Dr. Azeez. “What we need is an ecosystem of private investment, technology, and policy reforms coming together to make healthcare a thriving industry in Nigeria.”
The debate rages on, but the solution is clear: act now or watch the system crumble. If Nigeria dithers, those left behind will be the ones who can least afford it.
This article was originally published by Prime Progress and is republished here with permission from the editor.
