Standing outside a bustling public hospital in Lagos, 25-year-old Michelin Hunsa still shudders at the memory of waiting two long hours for an ambulance after her mother collapsed at home. “It was a serious problem, we waited far too long,” she recalled. Though her mother survived a cerebral haemorrhage, Hunsa admits the experience left her traumatised.
In Nigeria’s biggest city—home to more than 20 million people—such stories are all too common. With barely 100 ambulances struggling against gridlocked roads, every emergency becomes a gamble between survival and tragedy.
Traffic gridlock and mistrust
Lagos’s endless queues of honking cars make weaving through traffic a nightmare, even with sirens blaring. To make matters worse, many drivers refuse to give way, assuming the vehicles are ferrying VIPs instead of patients.
“I’m sure most of the time they don’t transport real emergency cases, that’s why I don’t move,” said Anthony Folayinka, a 38-year-old ride-share driver. Ambulance worker Queen Soetan admitted the scepticism is real: “Most people will not just want to leave the road, so it does affect our intervention time.”
Critical shortage of ambulances
Officially, Lagos state runs just 35 ambulances, with another 80–90 owned privately—about one ambulance for every 200,000 residents, far below global health standards.
Private firm Eight Medical, launched in 2021 by Dr Ibukun Tunde-Oni, has tried to bridge the gap with 34 vehicles and an ambitious “eight-minute response” goal. The inspiration was deeply personal: Tunde-Oni lost two uncles to emergencies and once waited three hours for help after a road accident. “One hundred ambulances for Lagos is not enough,” he said.
City growth, failing services
With projections showing Lagos could hit 88 million residents by 2100, the strain on health and transport systems is only set to worsen. Even if more ambulances arrive, broken roads, poor coordination, and underfunded hospitals mean faster response times will remain a challenge.
Some creative fixes are emerging. In 2022, authorities launched a floating clinic and boat ambulance to serve waterfront communities, but limited funding has slowed expansion. For now, officials are pinning hopes on public-private partnerships to strengthen land-based emergency care.
For families like Hunsa’s, however, change can’t come soon enough. Until then, every siren on Lagos’s clogged roads will carry the same haunting question: will help arrive in time?
