January 04, (THEWILL) — On the morning of December 29, 2025, Anthony Joshua, a two-time unified world heavyweight boxing champion, was involved in a catastrophic road accident on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway near Makun in Ogun State. His vehicle suffered a tyre burst before colliding with a stationary truck. Two of his closest associates, Sina Ghami and Kevin Latif Ayodele, died at the scene. Joshua himself sustained injuries requiring hospital treatment. What happened next, however, has become as significant as the crash itself. No ambulance arrived. No trained paramedics appeared to stabilise the injured or assess the state of the persons involved in the car crash. Instead, bystanders and police officers without medical expertise attempted to help, and Joshua was eventually transported to a local hospital in a police patrol vehicle.
The image of a global sporting icon being moved in the passenger side of a law enforcement vehicle, surrounded by onlookers recording the chaos on mobile phones, has crystallised public anger about the state of emergency medical services in Nigeria. If a man whose achievements have made him internationally recognisable cannot access professional care on the country’s busiest interstate highway, the question becomes unavoidable: what hope exists for ordinary Nigerians when disaster strikes?
The incident exposes a failure that extends far beyond a single stretch of road. The Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, a vital economic artery connecting the country’s commercial hub with its interior, contributes significantly to the statistics of accidents on Nigerian highways yet, despite its importance and traffic volume, the corridor remains inadequately served by emergency response infrastructure.
Trauma medicine operates on the principle of the “golden hour”, the critical first 60 minutes after severe injury when intervention can determine survival. In the United Kingdom, where Joshua was born, or the United States, where he recently beat celebrity boxer Jake Paul, a crash of this magnitude would trigger a coordinated dispatch of advanced life support ambulances within minutes. Paramedics would stabilise spinal injuries, manage airways, control bleeding and communicate with trauma centres preparing surgical teams. None of this occurred on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. The two men who died were denied any opportunity for professional assessment or intervention. Joshua’s survival owes more to fortune than to the system supposedly designed to protect him.
Nigeria does possess a national emergency medical framework. The National Emergency Medical Services and Ambulance System was established to provide coordinated response and free emergency care. Official data suggest progress, with increased patient transports recorded in recent years. Lagos State operates its own ambulance service, which reported a 97.5 per cent response rate to 44,152 out of 45,277 calls between 2021 and 2025, achieving zero deaths during transport in certain periods. These figures indicate that improvement is possible where political will, funding and coordination exist.
However, even within Lagos, response times frequently exceed 30 minutes due to traffic congestion and coordination challenges. Beyond major urban centres, the situation deteriorates sharply. Nationally, ambulance availability is estimated at just 0.4 per 100,000 people, far below World Health Organisation standards. Only about five per cent of trauma victims reach hospitals via ambulances. Most rely on private cars, taxis or police vehicles lacking stabilisation equipment. Rural communities, where up to 60 per cent of the population lack access to emergency care, suffer disproportionately. The Nigeria Red Cross Society has publicly stated that the absence of functional ambulances has hampered its humanitarian operations.
A 2025 report by SBM Intelligence found that not a single Nigerian state achieved a score of 30 per cent in health preparedness. Even the highest-ranking state, Abia, scored only 26.85 per cent. This metric reveals functional incompetence across the federation. The doctor-to-patient ratio has widened to one doctor per 15,000 people in primary healthcare or rural settings, with some northern states experiencing ratios of one per 43,000 residents. Brain drain has stripped hospitals of experienced consultants, leaving junior staff to manage complex trauma cases with decreased knowhow and inadequate equipment.
At the root of these deficiencies lie deep-seated governance failures. While Nigeria’s constitution mandates that state and local governments take primary responsibility for health services and emergency response, funding remains chronically inadequate. This is underscored by the 2026 national health budget, which allocates less than five per cent of total spending to the sector. This scarcity is further exacerbated by systemic corruption and inefficient procurement processes, which leave equipment in disrepair and personnel both underpaid and understaffed. Without robust oversight, the entire infrastructure continues to crumble under the weight of administrative neglect.
The resulting human cost extends far beyond mere statistics; every year, thousands of preventable deaths occur because emergency care is either delayed or entirely absent. Beyond the immediate grief of families, these failures trigger massive economic losses and cut short the potential of young victims. Perhaps most damaging is the erosion of the social contract; when basic, life-saving services fail repeatedly, citizens lose faith in public institutions and become skeptical of any future reforms. Ultimately, because emergency care deals directly with the preservation of life, it serves as the ultimate litmus test for a government’s reliability.
Public behaviour is largely a mirror of systemic failure rather than a lack of awareness. Because formal help historically arrives too late, or not at all, most Nigerians bypass emergency numbers during a crisis, opting instead to contact relatives or local transport workers. This survival instinct is further reinforced by hospital policies that demand payment before treatment and a general lack of trauma capacity. These barriers do more than just hinder care; they reshape public choices and deepen a long-standing mistrust of the state.
The Joshua crash has ashamedly brought these shortcomings into sharp relief, especially when compared to nations where emergency response is a core public duty. In the United Kingdom, EU or United States, integrated systems and robust resource allocation allow for average response times of eight to 10 minutes. In contrast, Nigeria’s response is hampered by a trifecta of traffic congestion, poor inter-agency coordination and chronic underinvestment. While private services offer a glimmer of efficiency, they remain a luxury inaccessible to the vast majority of the population, highlighting a glaring need for better community engagement and standardised training.
Let me point out that meaningful reform must begin with the nationwide standardisation of emergency services to ensure a coordinated response. This structural shift must be backed by targeted funding for ambulance fleets, first responder training and public education, perhaps sustained by dedicating specific levies from road safety revenues. Furthermore, by fostering better coordination between federal, state, and local governments, the country can reduce existing inefficiencies. Through transparent budgeting, rigorous audits, and strategic public-private partnerships, Nigeria can finally begin to expand reliable emergency coverage to its most underserved regions.
The deaths of Sina and Kevin should not pass without accountability. I insist that questions must be asked about why no ambulance served that stretch of highway, who bore responsibility for coverage and what systems failed. Answers should lead to reform rather than mere expressions of sympathy. A state that cannot respond when citizens are injured on its roads falls short of its fundamental duty.
Emergency services measure governance. Whether this moment catalyses improvement depends on sustained political will and public pressure. Until then, survival on Nigerian roads remains a matter of chance rather than right. I hereby urge Ogun State Governor, Dapo Abiodun to rise to the call to invest significantly in healthcare and emergency services for the benefit of the people of his state and the public. The President, state governors and local government chairmen must also wake up to their responsibilities to the people.
