Across numerous Nigerian communities, promised health facilities, budgeted for and in some cases partially built, now stand abandoned. These so-called “ghost hospitals,” meant to bring essential medical care closer to the people, have instead become haunting symbols of governmental failure, corruption, and broken promises.
In Osisioma Ngwa Local Government Area of Abia State, with a population of over 20,000 residents, N80 million was allocated between 2018 and 2020 under the Zonal Intervention Projects to construct and equip a primary healthcare centre. The funds, channeled through the Projects Development Institute (PRODA), were intended to boost local health access. Yet, as of May 2025, the facility lies in a state of disrepair.
According to health workers, since its supposed completion in 2020, only one baby has been delivered at the centre. The absence of medical equipment, staff, and basic amenities has discouraged expectant mothers and other residents from utilising the facility for any form of healthcare.
This story is not unique to Osisioma. In the Zuma community of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), a health centre completed in 2014 at the cost of nearly N22 million has never opened its doors. Despite being reportedly fully equipped, the facility remains non-functional due to a lack of staffing. Residents continue to travel long distances to access medical care, often at great risk to their health and financial well-being.
Further evidence of this alarming trend can be seen in New Kutunku, Gwagwalada Area Council of the FCT. There, a major hospital project initiated in 2011 remains incomplete more than a decade later. The project, awarded by the Federal Capital Development Authority (FCDA) to The Solid Concrete Nigeria Limited in November 2010 at a contract value of N677.8 million, was to include a 60-bed hospital, operating theatres, a pharmacy, laboratories, emergency units, maternal and antenatal facilities, and residential quarters for staff.
Despite the scale and importance of the project, the structure today is a shell of what was envisioned. Unused and decaying, it now poses a security threat to nearby residents as unauthorised individuals have taken over the premises. Attempts to obtain updates from the FCDA under the Freedom of Information (FOI) Act have so far gone unanswered.
A similar situation unfolds in Achida, Sokoto State, where a project to upgrade a primary health centre to a general hospital stalled after the contractor received 30 percent of the allocated funds. The result is that residents must now endure long and often dangerous journeys, over an hour in some cases, to access even the most basic healthcare services. The physical distance to care has translated into real emotional and health-related costs for the people of this rural community.
In Jigawa State’s Hadejia Local Government Area, the story takes another frustrating turn. The construction of a 250-bed specialist hospital, awarded in 2017 to Philko Construction for N1.593 billion (later revised to N1.867 billion), remains incomplete. By 2022, 76 percent of the work had been completed. The government terminated the contract and re-awarded portions of the project to two other companies: Kanadhir Global Links Limited and Ganan Construction Limited. Still, the hospital is not operational, and the surrounding community remains without access to critical care.
- Shadow Government: Utomi tackles DSS
- Guard docked for allegedly poisoning his neighbour’s goats, sheep
- AFP photojournalist calls for end to impunity against journalists
- NSF: We’re set to secure residents, visitors — Police
- Tinubu to Bishops: We won’t tolerate evil disguised as insurgency
These incidents are not isolated or coincidental. They represent a deeper, systemic issue in Nigeria’s public health infrastructure development. In February 2022, during a plenary session, the Nigerian Senate acknowledged the widespread abandonment of primary healthcare centre projects.
This prompted an investigation into the N400 billion National Primary Health Centre Project initiated by former President Olusegun Obasanjo in 2006.
The Senate mandated its joint Committees on Health, Primary Health Care and Communicable Disease, Works, and Housing to examine the status of these projects across all 774 local government areas. The committees were to assess how funds were disbursed, evaluate the performance of contractors, and propose recommendations to ensure project completion.
Beyond the billions lost and the bureaucracy stalled, the human cost of these failures is staggering. Communities across Nigeria have been left without access to life-saving services. Pregnant women give birth without skilled assistance. Children with treatable illnesses suffer unnecessarily. Lives that could have been saved are lost, not due to the absence of medicine, but because the structures meant to deliver it were never completed or properly staffed.
In the shadows of these abandoned buildings, what remains is not just empty hallways or rusting beds. What remains is the trust that communities once placed in their leaders and the painful realisation that when hospitals exist only on paper, health becomes a privilege, not a right.
A Call to Action We need to change the way we think about healthcare development in this country. First, there must be transparency. Communities deserve to know exactly how much was budgeted, how much was spent, and who is responsible when work is not completed. Public funds should be tracked from start to finish, and progress should be visible not just in government reports, but in the lives of people who can walk into a clinic and receive care.
We also need to give people a say. Those who live in these communities should not be bystanders while decisions are made about their health. They should be involved from day one, monitoring, questioning, and ensuring that what is promised is actually delivered. When people feel ownership over a project, they will protect it. They will fight for it. And they will ensure it does what it was meant to do.
And finally, we must hold people accountable. No more quiet dismissals. No more contractors disappearing after the first payment. No more shifting blame. If a project fails, someone must answer for it. Not just in words, but in courtrooms, in contracts cancelled, in reputations lost. Health is too important to leave to chance, or worse, to corruption.
These hospitals were never meant to be symbols of waste. They were meant to be sanctuaries and places where lives begin, where pain ends, and where dignity is restored. It is not too late to make that vision real. The people have waited long enough. Now is the time to listen, to act, and to rebuild not just the walls, but the trust that was lost within them.
. Adakole is a pharmacist.