“I had to leave”: Nigerian healthcare workers on life abroad and why they may never return 

As a trained nurse, she had always hoped to contribute to her home country’s healthcare system.

However, the reality of low pay, overwhelming workloads, and a lack of essential benefits pushed her to seek opportunities abroad.

“I left for better opportunities,” she says. “I love my country, but I had to think about my future. Maybe one day, I’ll return when the healthcare system improves, but for now, I need to be where my work is valued, and I can thrive” she told Nairamertics.  

Now a registered nurse in both the United Kingdom and the United States, Munachimso earns £20 (over N30,000) per hour working under the UK’s National Health Service (NHS).

“In Nigeria, nurses earn an average of N100,000 to N190,000 a month. I can make that in just a week or two here,” she explained. 

Beyond the financial benefits, she highlights the differences in work conditions. “The NHS takes patient care seriously—one nurse to one patient,” she says. “Back home, it’s different. One nurse is expected to cater to multiple patients at once, and it’s exhausting.”

She also enjoys access to benefits that were unavailable in Nigeria.

“The NHS provides insurance and other welfare packages. It makes a huge difference,” she adds. 

“Every day, I worried about making it home alive” – Doctor. 

By the time Dr. N, (who pleaded to remain anonymous) finally made the decision to leave Nigeria, most of her friends had already gone. Some had left five years ago, others four. She had held on, hoping things would get better. Unfortunately, she watched as the country slid further into chaos.

“In the end, it was mostly about security,” she says. “Not just for me, but for my family.” 

Dr. N, a general practitioner, had spent years working in Nigeria, managing the challenges of an underfunded healthcare system and a worsening economy.

But what weighed on her the most was the fear—fear of what could happen on her way to work, fear of whether her husband would return home safely each evening.

“I worked in Ituku,” she recalls. “You know how long it takes to get there from Enugu, a lot of terrible things happen on that road. Every morning when I left for work, I wasn’t sure if I’d come back in one piece. Same with my husband. That kind of uncertainty wears you down.” 

But insecurity wasn’t the only reason she left. There was also the economy.

But insecurity wasn’t the only reason she left. There was also the economy.

“For almost five years, my salary remained the same,” she explains. “But prices kept going up. Inflation made life unbearable. The standard of living was nothing like what I was used to, what we had five years ago. Instead of improving, things were getting worse. The country was sinking, fast.”

She realized she didn’t want her children to grow up in that environment. So, she left.

Now practising in the UK, she doesn’t regret her decision, at least for now.

“Would I return? Not at the moment,” she says. “But if, in the future, things improve—especially security—then maybe. But for now, no.” 

“I was overworked, underpaid, and burnt out” -Senior Psychiatrist. 

For over a decade, Dr. R (not his real name) dedicated his life to mental healthcare in Nigeria. As a senior psychiatrist at the Federal Neuropsychiatric Hospital, Yaba, he had seen it all—rising cases of depression, addiction, and psychosis, worsened by poverty and social neglect.

He stayed through years of funding cuts, outdated facilities, and an overwhelming patient load. But one thing finally made him leave: the pay.

“It wasn’t an easy decision,” he admits. “I had built my career in Nigeria, trained younger doctors, and was deeply involved in the mental health community. But I also had a family to care for, and my salary couldn’t keep up with inflation. The financial strain became unbearable.” 

Despite being a senior consultant, my salary after deductions hovered around N500,000. “In Australia, I make that in a few days,” he says. “It’s not just about money, though. It’s about dignity—being valued for my work.”

At Yaba, I juggle dozens of patients in a single day.

“We had cases where one psychiatrist was attending to 20, sometimes 40 patients in a week. That’s dangerous. In developed countries, you can’t handle more than a handful at a time,” he explains. “You can’t give quality care when you’re overstretched.” 

Mental health services in Nigeria remain grossly inadequate. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends at least one psychiatrist per 10,000 people, but Nigeria has fewer than 300 psychiatrists for a population of over 200 million.

“Some days, we ran out of basic medications,” Dr R recalls. “Imagine telling a schizophrenic patient’s family that there’s no drug supply and they should find it themselves at ridiculous black-market prices.” 

Dr. R relocated to Australia, where he now works in a well-funded psychiatric hospital with structured work hours, modern treatment facilities, and significantly better pay. The difference is as clear as night and day.

“I can finally focus on my patients without worrying about my survival,” he says. “I have work-life balance, professional growth opportunities, and most importantly, peace of mind.” 

Would he ever consider returning? He shakes his head.

“How can I go back to a system that still struggles with basic things? If Nigeria’s healthcare system improves tremendously—better wages, better infrastructure, better policies—maybe I’d consider short-term projects. But full-time? No.” 

The stories are not unique, they are part of a growing wave of Nigerian healthcare professionals seeking better opportunities abroad.

The emigration of skilled Nigerian healthcare workers, the ‘Japa’ syndrome, has contributed significantly from nurses to general practitioners to psychiatrists, the reasons are the same—poor pay, lack of security, burnout, and a system that offers little support.

According to the General Medical Council of the UK, no fewer than 12,198 Nigerian doctors are currently practising in the UK, with many others in the US, Europe, Asia, and other parts of the world.

Over the past five years, Nigeria has lost approximately 15,000 to 16,000 doctors due to this brain drain. This is as revealed in March 2024 by Muhammad Ali Pate, the Coordinating Minister of Health and Social Welfare.

With a population of over 220 million, Nigeria’s doctor-to-patient ratio is just one doctor per 10,000 people, far below the World Health Organization’s recommended ratio of one doctor to 600 people.

Despite having around 70,000 registered doctors as of 2023, the country continues to face a significant shortage of healthcare professionals.

The World Health Organization placed Nigeria on the Health Workforce Support and Safeguard List for 2023, identifying it as one of the 55 countries suffering from a severe shortage of health workers.