A hidden menace, fake drugs, are silently claiming lives in Nigeria, as highlighted by tragic stories and expert warnings amidst a worsening pharmaceutical landscape
Fake Drugs Nigeria: Hidden in plain sight, a deadly menace thrives quietly but relentlessly: counterfeit medicines. These fake drugs, masquerading as lifesaving remedies, are cutting short thousands of lives every year.
They infiltrate pharmacies, clinics, and even homes, poisoning the hopes of recovery and trust in healthcare, writes GODFREY GEORGE.
The devastating impact of these fraudulent pharmaceuticals is starkly illustrated by the harrowing experience of Mrs. Ore Oluwatobi. A persistent, throbbing headache during her first pregnancy led her to seek medical advice. Doctors prescribed a mild painkiller, Paracetamol, which she was to purchase from any pharmacy.
“I was asked to get just paracetamol. The doctor even wrote it on a piece of paper and asked me to buy it at any pharmacy of my choice,” Ore recalled during an interview at her home in Abule Egba, Lagos. She was determined to do everything right for her first pregnancy.
However, within hours of taking what she believed to be her prescribed medication, Ore’s condition worsened dramatically. Her nose became inexplicably blocked, followed by numbness in her legs, and then, unconsciousness.
Upon waking in a private hospital in Ikeja, she discovered the horrifying truth: the medication she had taken was counterfeit. The packaging looked strange, foreign, and unregistered in Nigeria.
Ore’s brother-in-law later admitted the pharmacist had suggested a cheaper alternative, claiming it “does the same work.” A trusting Ore, desperate for relief, didn’t double-check. The consequences were tragic.
After discharge, she experienced spotting. Subsequent tests revealed the devastating news: “They couldn’t find the heartbeat,” she said, her voice breaking. Doctors confirmed the fake medication had triggered a dangerous hormonal spike, lethal for her unborn child.
Consumed by rage, Ore confronted the pharmacy, but the system, as she painfully learned, often favoured silence. Her husband, heartbroken, urged her to move on. Despite her initial social media post warning others, she later deleted it under her husband’s insistence.
“I should have looked more closely,” she lamented, noting the spelling errors and incorrect location on the counterfeit label. “I want people to check what they take. Don’t be like me. Ask questions.
Look at the label. Double check, especially if you are a pregnant woman or you are about to administer the medication to a child. Take nothing for granted.” Her husband echoed this sentiment, stating, “If I want to buy any medication, it has to be at government pharmacies.”
A Daughter’s Grief and Historical Tragedies
The pain of counterfeit drugs extends beyond individual tragedies. Nwando vividly recounted on X the devastating loss of her mother, Ogochukwu Florence Nzelu, six years ago.
Her mother died slowly, not from her initial ailment, but from years of incorrect medication prescribed due to misdiagnosis. “My mother didn’t live long because of the useless health care system in Nigeria,” she wrote.
Investigations abroad later confirmed her mother’s organs had been irreversibly damaged by the fraudulent drugs. “Nigeria failed my mother,” she posted, heartbroken.
Nigeria has a grim history with pharmaceutical fraud. The 1990 paracetamol syrup disaster in Jos saw at least 47 children die from acute kidney failure after consuming syrup tainted with diethylene glycol.
This tragedy, along with the 2008 ‘My Pikin’ incident where 84 children died from a teething syrup contaminated with the same industrial solvent, served as catalysts for the establishment and strengthening of regulatory bodies like NAFDAC.\
A Close Call and Industry Shifts
Adebayo Alonge’s experience serves as a chilling reminder of the ever-present danger. In 2003, as a pharmacy student, a counterfeit salbutamol inhaler containing diazepam sent him into a three-week coma.
His survival ignited a fierce determination to combat the fake drug trade, leading him to co-found RxAll, a company developing mobile nano scanners to verify drug authenticity in real-time. His work, which earned international acclaim, highlights a war largely fought in the shadows.
The recent exit of pharmaceutical giants like GlaxoSmithKline (GSK) and Sanofi from Nigeria has exacerbated the crisis. Citing worsening economic conditions and a volatile foreign exchange market, their departure has created a vacuum, leading to scarcity and dramatic price hikes of essential medicines.
A Ventolin inhaler, once £2.80, now retails for up to £8.00, while Seretide, previously £7.00, has reportedly soared to an astonishing £70.00.
Dr. Lolu Ojo, former Chairman of the Association of Industrial Pharmacists of Nigeria, warned, “What we are experiencing is a combination of hoarding, speculation, and outright profiteering.
When giants like GSK exit, they create a vacuum that unscrupulous players rush to fill.” This void has catalysed a black-market boom, with counterfeit and unregistered asthma inhalers flooding open markets.
Olumide Akintayo, former President of the Pharmaceutical Society of Nigeria, highlighted the grim reality: “the counterfeit drug industry thrives when legitimate options disappear.
It’s like pulling police officers off the street and expecting order.” Patients are suffering from worsening conditions, ineffective treatments, and even sudden deaths attributed to fake medications.
With Nigeria’s pharmaceutical import dependency hovering at 70 percent, coupled with a devalued naira and import restrictions, legitimate importers struggle.
Desperate patients, pushed to the margins, often turn to street vendors, unknowingly exposing themselves to deadly alternatives. Mrs. Chinwe Okafor, a Lagos-based pharmacist, shared that “more than half of the asthma medications her clients bring in today are either expired, fake, or untraceable to any known manufacturer.”
The World Health Organisation (WHO) describes the menace of fake and substandard medications as “a serious threat to public health,” undermining treatment, contributing to drug resistance, and causing untold suffering.
The WHO estimates that 10 percent of medical products in low- and middle-income countries are falsified or substandard. These drugs often contain incorrect doses, harmful substances, or no active ingredient, leading to treatment failures, prolonged illness, increased mortality, and growing antimicrobial resistance.
“The infiltration of counterfeit medicines is a global concern, but it is especially critical in countries where regulatory capacity is weak,” stated Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO Director-General.
“Patients unknowingly consume medicines that do not work, or worse, that harm them.” The battle against fake drugs in Nigeria is a fight for public health and the very lives of its citizens.