The death of Aishatu Umar at the Abubakar Imam Urology Centre, Kano State, after surgical scissors were allegedly left inside her body is not a medical complication; it is a complete case of medical negligence.

Development Diaries reports that the husband of the deceased, Abubakar Muhammad, has alleged that his wife died from complications linked to a surgical procedure carried out at the facility.

A woman went into surgery, complained of pain for months, was repeatedly dismissed, and died before corrective treatment could be done.

This is not bad luck or fate. It is gross negligence, and calling it anything less lowers the value of human life. Cases like this are becoming familiar in Nigeria, not because they are rare, but because accountability is weak.

It is not an unfortunate outcome. It is not one of those ‘things that happen in medicine’. It is a catastrophic failure of care that should never occur in any functioning health system. And yet, in Nigeria, it did.

The Kano State case comes just days after national outrage over the death of Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s son, which raised serious questions about anaesthesia protocols, monitoring failures, and professional recklessness.

Different hospitals. Different patients. Same outcome. Same silence. Same system. Nigeria does not have a medical error problem; Nigeria has a medical accountability problem.

When a woman goes into surgery and dies because a foreign object was left inside her body, the issue moves beyond mistake into the realm of gross negligence.

In systems that value patient safety, such cases trigger immediate suspensions, independent criminal investigations, civil liability, and lasting consequences.

In Nigeria, families are often offered condolences, apologies, or internal panels whose findings never leave hospital walls.

Aishatu Umar did not die because her condition was untreatable. She died because basic surgical safety protocols failed, and because the system that should punish such failures rarely does.

This is how preventable death becomes routine.

Nigeria’s Constitution guarantees the right to life. The National Health Act promises safe and ethical healthcare. Regulatory councils exist. Yet enforcement remains weak, sanctions are hidden, and impunity has become normal.

This suffering is not evenly shared. The wealthy travel abroad for care. The poor enter operating theatres with faith and leave in coffins.

Women undergoing routine procedures, children brought in stable, and patients without influence carry the cost of a system that does not fear consequences. That is why this is not just a health issue; it is a human rights issue.

When preventable medical deaths occur without accountability, the right to life is violated. When families are denied truth and justice, dignity is denied. When hospitals repeatedly investigate themselves, the right to health is reduced to words on paper.

The Kano story is not shocking because it is rare, but because it confirms what many Nigerians already know and quietly endure.

What must happen now? There must be Immediate institutional actions

There must be an independent criminal investigation into the Kano case, not an internal hospital review. The names, roles, and sanctions (if any) of all medical staff involved must be made public.

All professionals linked to the surgery should face immediate suspension pending investigation, and there must be mandatory external surgical audits of the hospital involved.

Nigeria needs a national medical negligence reporting registry that is accessible to the public.  Surgical safety checklists must be mandatory, with criminal liability for falsification.

There must be clear prosecution pathways for gross medical negligence resulting in death, and legal protection and compensation mechanisms for affected families.

These are not extreme demands, they are basic standards in any system that values life.

What then can citizens do?

Citizens must document and report medical negligence cases, no matter how old. Nigerians should demand answers from hospital management, not condolences.

Families and advocates should petition State Ministries of Health and the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria, and communities must support families seeking justice, not pressure them into silence.

A note to our readers

Development Diaries is documenting these stories because silence is how impunity survives, and patterns are how accountability begins.

If you or someone you know has lost a loved one to medical negligence, or survived a preventable medical error, share your story. Identities will be protected where necessary. What matters is building a public record that can no longer be ignored.

Nigeria cannot reform what it refuses to confront. This is not about sympathy. It is about justice, and justice begins by refusing to call crimes ‘mistakes’.

Photo source: Daily Trust