Seven years have passed since Folake Olaniyi lost her son in a heartbreaking ordeal that nearly claimed her own life. Yet, as she sat outside her modest home in Igbokofi village, Ogun State, the pain of that night remained raw, etched into her soul with unrelenting clarity.
“It feels like yesterday,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion, eyes staring into the distance. “The memory never left me.”
In 2017, Olaniyi, already a mother of girls, was filled with joy when medical tests confirmed she was expecting a boy. Her happiness, however, was tragically short-lived.
The absence of a functional healthcare facility in Igbokofi, a border village in Yewa North Local Government Area, would not only shatter her dream of having a son but would leave her physically and emotionally scarred for life.
Olaniyi had returned to her native village after her husband disappeared without warning. When her labour began, she visited a makeshift health centre in the village, only to be sent home because she wasn’t in active labour.
But as the pain intensified later that night, she returned in desperation. What followed was a nightmarish journey through several distant villages — Ijoun, Aiyetoro, and eventually Abeokuta — in search of help.
At each stop, her condition worsened. A lack of medical expertise and resources turned her labour into a life-threatening emergency. Her baby was eventually delivered stillborn, and Olaniyi narrowly survived after being transferred to a tertiary hospital in Abeokuta.
“When we got to Abeokuta, I was barely alive. The doctors needed my husband’s consent to operate, but he was nowhere to be found. My brother-in-law had to sign,” she recalled.
After spending nearly a month in recovery, Olaniyi believed the ordeal was behind her. But three months later, she was told her womb had been irreparably damaged and had to be removed.
“I cried for days. I wanted more children, but they took that from me too,” she said.
A Pattern of Tragedy
Olaniyi’s story is one among many in Igbokofi, a remote village caught in the grip of a maternal health crisis. Elder Idowu Bamgbose, a community leader, recounted how his household was struck by a similar tragedy in 2021.
“My son’s wife went into labour around 2 a.m.,” he recalled. “We took her to a traditional healer because that’s all we had. She died before sunrise.”
Such deaths are not isolated incidents, according to Bamgbose and other residents. The absence of a government-run health facility has turned childbirth into a gamble with death for the women of Igbokofi.
Kunle Garb, another local resident, listed names that have become synonymous with heartbreak in the village: Tosin Ayeni, Silifat Kudebi, and Maria Ogunyomi — all young women who died while giving birth due to lack of proper care.
“Most families keep quiet, but we all know what’s happening,” Garb said. “We’ve lost too many women.”
Quackery in the Void
Desperation has also given rise to an influx of untrained and self-styled medical practitioners operating in the village. Without oversight, these individuals administer questionable treatments and deliver babies using crude methods.
“It’s a dangerous trend,” Garb warned. “These so-called nurses use whatever they have. People still patronise them because it’s either that or nothing.”
Without proper training or medical equipment, such practitioners frequently make fatal mistakes, worsening outcomes for mothers and infants.
Crossing Borders to Stay Alive
In the absence of local healthcare, many Igbokofi residents have turned to neighbouring Benin Republic — just a few kilometres across the border — for medical assistance.
The irony is that while medical help is physically closer across the border than within Nigeria, it is economically out of reach for many villagers.
“We go to Benin to get injections and basic medicine,” said Ruth Bamgbose, wife of the village chief. “But once they know we’re Nigerians, they double the price.”
The women and elderly are the most affected. Travel costs, combined with inflated fees across the border, make seeking healthcare a grueling ordeal.
“It’s a constant struggle,” she added. “Sometimes we can’t afford treatment at all.”
A Community Crying for Help
Despite the heartbreaking losses, little has changed in Igbokofi. The residents continue to rely on traditional birth attendants, quack doctors, and distant clinics ill-equipped for emergencies.
The closest formal medical facilities are located several miles away in towns like Ijoun and Aiyetoro — and even these are limited in capacity. Community leaders and residents alike are pleading for urgent intervention from local and federal authorities.
“We need a proper health centre here,” said Elder Bamgbose. “How many more women must die before something is done?”
Efforts to get government attention have been largely unsuccessful. According to villagers, repeated appeals to local authorities have gone unanswered, leaving them to rely on personal networks, traditional healers, and dangerous border treks for medical aid.
Nigeria’s Broader Maternal Health Crisis
The tragedy unfolding in Igbokofi mirrors a broader national crisis. Nigeria accounts for nearly 20 percent of global maternal deaths, according to the World Health Organization.
Many of these deaths are preventable and linked to poor access to skilled birth attendants, delayed emergency care, and a lack of infrastructure.
In rural areas like Igbokofi, the situation is even more dire. The absence of roads, ambulances, and trained medical personnel creates a deadly combination for expectant mothers.
“There’s nothing more painful than watching someone die simply because there was no doctor nearby,” said Garb.
A Flicker of Hope?
Despite the despair, some in the village remain hopeful that their voices will eventually be heard.
“If only we had a clinic with trained doctors and nurses,” said Olaniyi, her voice trembling. “I wouldn’t have lost my baby. I wouldn’t have lost my womb.”
Until then, the women of Igbokofi continue to live with the haunting fear that pregnancy — a time meant for hope — may be their final journey.
This article was created using automation technology and was thoroughly edited and fact-checked by one of our editorial staff members
