Doctors and consultants at the Federal University of Health Sciences, Otukpo (FUHSO) in Benue State have embarked on an indefinite strike, bringing activities at the institution’s teaching hospital to a standstill. At the heart of their protest is the painful reality of going eight straight months without pay—months of service without compensation, and families left to fend for themselves in silence.
Inside the hospital, the mood is heavy. Staff whisper their frustrations and fears, blaming what they describe as “years of damage” inflicted by a pattern of alleged misrule under past leadership. Fingers are pointed at two prominent figures: former Vice Chancellor Professor Innocent Ujah and former Chief Medical Director Professor Silas Ochejile—both respected sons of the Idoma community. But for many on the ground, that makes the betrayal even harder to swallow.
“This place has been broken from the very beginning,” a staff member told us quietly, unwilling to reveal their identity for fear of retaliation. “And the painful part? It’s our own brothers who held the knife that stabbed us.” Their voice trembled as they spoke of alleged corruption, from inflated contracts to job racketeering and ghost salaries—charges they say aren’t just rumors but lived reality.
During Professor Ochejile’s tenure, staff say conditions deteriorated to alarming levels. The hospital pharmacy couldn’t even provide paracetamol. Doctors worked out of near-empty offices, sitting on broken chairs, writing reports on their laps—this, in a federal institution that receives billions in allocations yearly. “It was as if they built a hospital with no intention to heal anyone,” another staffer lamented
Now, a new Chief Medical Director, Professor Teddy Agida, sits at the helm, but even his best intentions are being tested. Staff say he inherited a financial wasteland. “He met an empty treasury,” one insider revealed. “And even though he means well, his hands are tied. There’s no money to clear salary backlogs or repair the hospital.”
Patients are being turned away. Clinics are shut. The halls of FUHSO’s teaching hospital are quiet—not with peace, but with pain. And as the strike continues, those who once gave life in these corridors are now left fighting just to survive.
