ABUJA’S SERIAL TRAFFIC OFFENDERS

BABATUNDE OYATERU highlights some of the deficiencies in the system

Nigeria is a country in many ways thatched over by homespun wisdom and aphorisms. Buoyed by oral tradition and deeply held religious habits, Nigerians quickly employ various pithy, colourful sayings, idioms, and encouragements. One of the newest additions is that Nigeria will happen to you. This is a local interpretation of Murphy’s Law, which means Nigeria’s failings will break your cocoon no matter how well insulated you believe you are.

Well, on the evening of Easter Monday in the capital city of Abuja, many things broke. An errant driver broke the traffic laws and drove his sports utility vehicle into the side of my car, breaking several bones in my body. I broke my promise to my children to return home. While it would be easy in retrospect to claim Nigeria had happened to me, accidents happen everywhere. This retrospective is more about what did not happen.

After the accident, I had the good fortune to be taken to a nearby hospital, which fortuitously happened to be the NNPC Multi-specialist hospital. Upon arrival, the accident and emergency ward staff did not insist on a police report or a financial deposit before rendering triage services.  This does not happen usually. As I discovered in the following days, the hospital covered a wide range of specialities and had first-rate medical facilities, which meant I could receive the full suite of my treatment in one place. The hospital, however, was little known to the public, as it had only begun receiving general patients recently. Many of my guests would remark on how impressive the facilities were and how unaware they were of their existence. Some would joke that they hoped it would remain clandestine, so their quality would not be compromised.

My experience was remarkable, but it was also rare. Nigerian medical facilities too often turn away accident victims, demanding a myriad of administrative prerequisites which are as impractical as they are punitive. Too many Nigerians have stories like this. But how a nation heals itself matters; how it regenerates itself, replenishes its population, cares for the ailing, and keeps its citizens alive and well is foundational for development and prosperity. According to a Nigeria Governors’ Forum report, spending on healthcare has increased in recent years; between 2016 and 2022, it tripled, going from ₦305.1 billion to ₦ 876.4 billion, a 187 per cent increase. However, given its population, this still falls below the country’s basic needs for public health. The government spends an average of 4.5 per cent of the national budget on the sector, but has pledged to increase the allocation. The shortfall may be evident in the average life expectancy for Nigerians, which at 54.46 years, is one of the lowest on the continent, averaging 64.38 years. Additionally, while a demographic dividend is imminent, the population will eventually age, by 2050, when there will be a discernible population boom, 10 per cent of the population will be elderly, and current healthcare systems are not built to deal with this shift in demographics and the disease burden.

There are also no institutional social safety nets or government-mandated social insurance, which means a quarter of households spend more than 10 per cent of their income on out-of-pocket expenses. All these numbers highlight how rare my experience was. Many Nigerians will not have access to top-line medical facilities, and when they do, many may be unable to afford them.

Another thing that did not happen was the traffic code enforcement. As far as I know, the errant driver who caused the accident is still driving, and his license will not be penalised. To come to terms with this is to understand the psychology of the capital city. It is a city that should symbolise code and conduct, that houses all the arms of government, those who make the laws, implement and adjudicate them, and yet Abuja is awash with serial traffic offenders—for the simple reason that many who flout traffic laws are employed by or are family members of the same officials who are meant to uphold the law. There is also a culture of drag racing and drifting that is well established in Abuja, which contributes to the wanton disregard for public safety. Many of those involved are the scions of prominent political families.

According to the Federal Safety Corps, 70,530 people were involved in accidents in 2024, with 5421 lives lost. This number may be underreported, mainly given the number of accidents in remote, unpublicized places. When compared to more industrialised and motorised societies, the numbers may pale. However, those societies have better hospital per capita ratios. According to World Bank estimates, the ratio is 0.5 hospital beds per 1000 people.

 Many of those critically or fatally injured in Nigeria would not have had access to quality medical facilities, and those who did may not have been able to afford it. My experience was remarkable, and I was fortunate to have access and the means to afford it. I must commend the staff of the NNPC Medical Services, Abuja, especially Dr Valentine Ogbu, Dr Halima Mayaki, Kefas Yakubu and Victor Adejo. As fortunate as my experience was, there are still some things that did not happen that highlight the deficiencies in the system. The police arrived at the scene shortly after the accident, but there was no ambulance service. Good-natured observers pulled me from the wreckage, and one was kind enough to take me to the hospital. There is also no traffic camera footage of the accident to adjudicate liability if it came to that.

Nigeria happened to me, and I survived because of it. Still, in a country with Nigeria’s ambitions and resources, my experience and survival should not be remarkable or miraculous; it should be the standard. The system’s deficiencies and failures often result from a policy-implementation gap and not some cosmic injustice or celestial misfortune. Usually, too, in the place of critical exposition, Nigerians resort to homespun wisdom and idioms to encourage themselves. One that I heard a lot of was, ‘What does not kill you makes you stronger’. The problem with that is, in our part of the world, what did not kill you should never have been given the chance.

Dr Oyateru is a communication and development professional