Nigeria’s political elite have long developed a troubling addiction to overseas medical treatment, a habit that starkly contrasts with the dire state of the nation’s healthcare infrastructure. In many instances, top government officials fly abroad for medical care for even the most minor ailments. One governor once jetted off to Germany for a mere toothache. Another, not long after claiming to have built a “world-class” hospital in his state, flew to the United Kingdom to treat minor injuries sustained in a car crash. These incidents clearly expose the hypocrisy and misplaced priorities of Nigeria’s political leadership.

This foreign treatment obsession is not just embarrassing; it is a national disaster bleeding the country’s healthcare system dry. It creates a costly cycle of dependency and neglect that undermines investment in local medical infrastructure. According to the Nigerian Medical Association (NMA), this unhealthy pattern costs the country a staggering $7 billion each year — equivalent to over ₦10.7 trillion, or nearly 20% of the 2025 national budget. These are funds that, if properly redirected, could completely transform Nigeria’s healthcare system.

Leadership Hypocrisy and Healthcare Neglect

NMA Vice President Benjamin Olowojebutu emphasized the gravity of this economic hemorrhage, noting, “Leaders use taxpayers’ money to go abroad to get themselves sorted.” His statement lays bare the injustice of a system in which citizens suffer inadequate care while political leaders fly business class to enjoy luxury treatment overseas. Meanwhile, nearly 133 million Nigerians live in multidimensional poverty, with 82 million lacking electricity and over 18 million children out of school, according to UNICEF. Clearly, spending billions on medical tourism is not just wasteful—it is morally indefensible.

The World Health Organization (WHO) has also painted a bleak picture, indicating that Nigeria alone accounts for about 27% of global malaria cases and 31% of global malaria deaths. Despite such staggering health statistics, Nigerian leaders have failed to channel resources into correcting the systemic collapse of the health sector. Instead, they choose the easy way out—boarding flights to foreign clinics while their own citizens queue endlessly in underfunded public hospitals or resort to purchasing questionable drugs from street vendors.

Presidents Abroad, Citizens in Pain

This disconnection from the nation’s reality is not only alarming but also embarrassing. In a disgraceful display of dependency, two Nigerian presidents have died outside the country. In 2010, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua died in a Saudi Arabian hospital. More recently, former President Muhammadu Buhari reportedly died in a London hospital on July 13, two years after leaving office. Even former military ruler Abdulsalami Abubakar admitted to receiving treatment at the same London clinic frequented by Buhari. Current President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has also raised eyebrows with his frequent trips to France and the United Kingdom, widely believed to be partly for medical purposes, though the Presidency claims these are strictly official.

Buhari’s prolonged medical treatment abroad became a national embarrassment. Reports suggest that his medical expenses at a London facility reached a jaw-dropping £3,000 (over ₦6 million) per day. His former spokesperson, Femi Adesina, attempted to justify this, claiming Buhari would have died long ago if treated in a Nigerian hospital. However, such a defense rings hollow. Buhari had nearly a decade in power, including his time as both a military and civilian leader. He had ample opportunity and resources to build first-rate hospitals across Nigeria but failed to do so. If any leader had the authority and budget to turn things around, it was him.

Fading Glory of Nigeria’s Health Institutions

This troubling history of neglect is even more painful when one recalls that Saudi Arabian royalty once sought care at Nigeria’s own University College Hospital (UCH) in Ibadan. Today, however, the tide has turned. Saudi Arabia’s King Faisal Specialist Hospital and Research Centre is now ranked 15th in the world and number one in the Middle East, according to Statista. Meanwhile, no hospital in Nigeria features on any global rankings — not even the heavily funded State House Clinic in Abuja.

UCH, once the pride of West Africa, now struggles to maintain electricity supply long enough to perform routine procedures. Its inability to power essential medical equipment illustrates the tragic deterioration of Nigeria’s healthcare capacity. Still, the political elite prefer freeloading on public funds to get treatment abroad, abandoning millions of Nigerians to overstretched, under-equipped hospitals and informal health quacks selling dubious remedies on the streets.

Alarming Healthcare Gaps and Leadership Failures

The situation grows worse when one considers the dire ratio of doctors to patients in Nigeria, which stands at an appalling 1:10,000 — far below the World Health Organization’s recommended 1:600. Moreover, the country continues to lose trained healthcare workers to more developed nations. Doctors, nurses, and pharmacists leave in droves in search of better pay and working conditions. While this brain drain continues unchecked, successive Nigerian administrations have failed to introduce policies to retain these professionals.

Compounding the crisis is the government’s unwillingness to allocate sufficient funding to health. Despite committing under the African Union’s Abuja Declaration to allocate at least 15% of the national budget to healthcare, Nigeria falls far short of this benchmark. This underfunding is both a cause and a consequence of the rot in the system.

The Way Forward: Invest at Home, End the Waste

Nigeria must take decisive steps to reverse this dangerous trend. First and foremost, the government must end the cycle of medical tourism. Leaders should be legally mandated to seek treatment within the country, barring emergencies or highly specialized conditions that genuinely cannot be treated locally. This shift in behavior would force urgent upgrades to the nation’s healthcare institutions, making them more responsive, better equipped, and more accountable.

Second, Nigeria must revamp its primary healthcare system, a once-functional network envisioned by the late Professor Olikoye Ransome-Kuti. These community-based centers should be restored, funded, and managed to provide first-line care, thus easing pressure on overburdened secondary and tertiary facilities.

Third, massive investment must be directed toward building modern hospitals across all geopolitical zones, equipped with state-of-the-art technology and staffed with well-trained personnel. Only by investing that wasted $7 billion annually in Nigeria’s own healthcare infrastructure can the country reclaim its medical independence and stop treating its citizens as expendable.

Conclusion: Leadership Must Begin at Home

Nigeria cannot continue to outsource the health of its leaders while neglecting the well-being of its citizens. The reliance on foreign hospitals is a symbol of national failure, not prestige. It underscores how far the country’s leadership has drifted from the core values of service and responsibility.

Rebuilding Nigeria’s healthcare system is not just a policy choice—it is a moral imperative. Redirecting funds from foreign clinics to domestic hospitals will not only save billions but will also save lives. For the sake of every Nigerian waiting endlessly in a hospital queue or suffering without care, it is time to end medical tourism and build a truly functional, reliable healthcare system at home.