The other day, my in-law had an accident and was taken to a hospital. He spent 28 days there. We paid for every test and for what we believed were costly injections, only to later discover that the doctor was administering cheaper ones while insisting we purchase the more expensive versions.
The accident had not affected his skull — only the scalp, which required suctioning. But in truth, the doctor really saved his life, for he is good. At the end of his stay, the doctor presented a bill of ₦2.1 million, excluding the cost of the tests and some medicines we had already procured.
When I saw the bill, I sought the opinion of doctor friends. They were unanimously shocked. One even asked, “Did he give him leukemia injections?”
Determined to confront the doctor for a breakdown, I prepared myself – only to find that he had already produced one. But the breakdown revealed all I needed to know.
Professional charge — ₦600,000
Suturing — ₦150,000
Dressing — ₦149,000
Drips — ₦145,000
Intensive care — ₦100,000
Intensive care monitoring — ₦150,000
Nursing care — ₦100,000
…among others.
It was clear how he contrived a fanciful sum and spread it across inflated headings.
I was ready to “fight” the hospital over such inhuman billing, especially after the locals said it was the doctor’s well-known trademark. But an intervening factor made me step back – which is why I am intentionally withholding the hospital’s name, though I could easily have posted the bill.
My anger is not about the money, but about how effortlessly a human being can exploit another. In the end, the hospital charged an average of ₦75,000 per day.
This experience came back to me vividly during a burial at Oba, where Prof. Patrick Obi and I represented His Excellency.
Delivering a deeply moving sermon, the Anglican Archbishop Alexander Ibezim eulogized the deceased, Dr. Emmanuel Chikodili Emelumadu. He said the late doctor exemplified what the medical profession is meant to be – compassionate, truthful, humane – rather than predatory or mercenary. In a light moment, he even appealed to the family not to bring out the list of those who owed him, because Dr. Emelumadu treated everyone first and discussed payment later.
The Archbishop’s words evoked memories of Hippocrates and Galen. Dr. Emelumadu embodied the ideals on which medicine was founded.
He lamented that men like him belong to a vanishing breed – professionals who place humanity above profit and integrity above advantage.
Beyond extolling the deceased, Archbishop Ibezim delivered a message that pierced every honest conscience. His message was simple yet profound: living a life worthy of the Book of Life requires daily commitment.
“Emma has gone,” he said, “and we are here testifying about his life. When your own time comes, what will people say about you?”
He continued, “With the way Nigeria is today, each time we wake up, we count ourselves lucky. We must always be prepared.”
For over an hour under the harsh sun in the compound, no one complained or shifted — because every word spoke directly to the heart.
In a world where compassion is fading and integrity is becoming scarce, his sermon was a solemn reminder: good people may be a vanishing breed, but their lives remain beacons – guiding the rest of us toward what is right, just, and truly human.
