By Kehinde Balikis Kenku
Nigeria is facing a health crisis, and it is no longer subtle. It is in our heatwaves, our hospitals, our homes, and our water. What makes this crisis dangerous is not only its scale, but how unprepared we are to confront its root cause: climate change and environmental neglect.
Last year’s heat was unlike anything many Nigerians had experienced before. The temperature was extreme, so extreme that even air-conditioned spaces and constant use of fans offered little relief. This was not normal weather fluctuation. It was climate change, unfolding in real time.
Yet, despite the warning signs, public understanding remains dangerously low. Many Nigerians still do not fully grasp what climate change is, or how directly it affects their health. That gap in awareness is costing us dearly.
Traditionally, harmattan arrives in December and lingers for weeks. In December 2025, it never came. Instead, harmattan briefly appeared in January 2026, and disappeared after just two days. This abnormal shift is not insignificant. It signals a climate system that is rapidly changing, with serious consequences for public health.
Rising heat and humidity have created ideal conditions for disease outbreaks. Malaria cases are increasing at alarming rates, even among households that take preventive measures.
In my own experience, malaria treatment has become recurrent, two to three times within a short period, despite fumigation and environmental cleanliness. This is not individual failure; it is systemic exposure.
Higher temperatures accelerate mosquito breeding, worsen chronic illnesses such as hypertension and asthma, and encourage the spread of bacteria and fungi.
In northern Nigeria, heat and dryness increase meningitis outbreaks. Across the country, floods and stagnant water drive waterborne diseases like cholera and typhoid.
Poor drainage infrastructure makes matters worse. In many communities, drainage systems are either nonexistent or blocked, while houses are built on natural waterways. When flooding occurs, stagnant water remains, and mosquitoes follow.
Environmental mismanagement becomes a public health emergency. Waste management failures further deepen the crisis. Uncollected refuse blocks drainages, contaminates groundwater, and creates breeding grounds for disease vectors.
Decomposing waste pollutes the air and water Nigerians rely on daily. This is not just an environmental issue; it is a health one. Then there is the issue of water. Unsafe water is quietly harming Nigerians in their own homes.
Broken sewage systems, poorly regulated boreholes, and contaminated groundwater mean that even “cleaned” household water can cause skin irritation and illness. Clean water should be a basic right, not a source of harm.
The question now is not whether Nigeria has a health crisis. It does. The real question is: what are we doing about it?
Government action remains slow, fragmented, and reactive. Climate change is discussed in conferences and policy documents, yet adaptation on the ground is minimal. Environmental health infrastructure remains weak, and accountability is scarce.
Individuals can, and should, take protective measures. But no amount of personal responsibility can replace functioning drainage systems, effective waste management, safe water supply, and climate-resilient health planning.
Nigeria’s health crisis is not a future threat. It is already here. Until climate action, environmental governance, and public health are treated as urgent national priorities, Nigerians will continue to pay the price, with their health.
And that is a cost the country can no longer afford.
