Overnight, Kelion Nwoha-Mba’s world was shattered when his wife tragically passed away in a government-owned hospital in Lagos during childbirth due to alleged medical negligence. The grieving father of three, recounting what transpired in this interview with Muhammed Lawal, claims his wife’s fibroid and womb were removed without his consent
You recently lost your wife due to alleged medical negligence. What really happened?
“I am from Imo State, and I married my wife, Fiona, seven years ago. We have three children: two boys and one girl. Fiona was 35 years old at the time of the incident.
On October 29, 2024, Fiona was scheduled for a caesarean section. We arrived at the hospital that morning, and it wasn’t an emergency. After the baby, a boy was delivered, the doctors informed me that they had removed fibroid from my wife.
They asked me to buy a container to take the fibroid home. That’s when the problems began.
I asked them, ‘Who authorised the removal of the fibroid?’ This concerned me because I had lost two cousins to complications from fibroid surgeries years ago, and just three months earlier, a close friend’s wife passed away following a similar procedure. My wife had fibroid even before the birth of our first child.
After the fibroid removal, the doctors brought Fiona out of the theatre.
I questioned how someone could undergo a fibroid operation without the necessary blood supply prepared to address potential complications.
I was told to get four pints of blood, and given that Fiona is O-negative, this became even more urgent.
I spent hours running around trying to find the blood. We managed to get it, but when they brought Fiona out after the surgery, her stomach started swelling. They rushed her back into the theatre, telling me once again to look for blood.
This time, I was told that since they had removed her womb, I could now bring in O-positive blood. I managed to secure it and brought it to them.
When they brought Fiona out after the second surgery, she was taken to the recovery room. She was put on oxygen and left to rest. But after almost five to six hours, she still hadn’t regained consciousness. She was only shaking and moving occasionally.
What was your reaction when you heard about her death?
I was there, watching everything, and I didn’t even know how to put it into words. How do you describe such a feeling? This wasn’t someone I just met two days ago; this was my wife, someone I had been married to for years. Recounting the story still gives me goosebumps. I can’t fully explain how I feel.
Were you informed before they removed her womb?
No, I wasn’t! They didn’t notify me before starting the fibroid operation. They only told me after it had been done and asked me to buy something like a container to store the fibroid and womb. I never saw either. It was the fibroid operation that triggered the emergency.
I was told she was bleeding internally, so they had to rush her back to the theatre to remove the womb. If they had informed me earlier, I would have told them to remove the womb during the first surgery. My wife already had three children; there was nothing else we were looking for. I wasn’t consulted at all.
Did you challenge them for not informing you about these surgeries?
Imagine hearing that someone you love is dead—what do you even begin to challenge? It felt like a movie, surreal and impossible to digest. I couldn’t wrap my head around it at the time. Later, as people started coming to show support, I began to explain what happened, and that’s when some clarity came.
But in those moments, I didn’t know how to react—whether to run, jump, or scream. I was just numb.
I was there when they tried to resuscitate her. The hospital staff worked on her for over 30 minutes, nearly an hour, but eventually, they told me she was gone.
When did your family start using the hospital’s services?
This was our first time to use the hospital. My other children were not born in Lagos.
How would you rate the hospital, considering this was your first time using their services?
People often say it’s one of the best hospitals around. We had been using another one, but my wife decided she wanted to switch to the Lagos Island Maternity Hospital. From what I saw, they seemed good—there was a decent relationship between the staff and patients. Personally and sincerely, I thought they were okay.
Are you planning to take legal action against them?
The truth is that taking legal action against the government or a hospital is not easy. However, I am willing to pursue charges because I believe it’s important to sensitise people and potentially save lives. That said, there are many hurdles involved, such as conducting an autopsy, which is not cheap, and preparing for years of court proceedings.
If I can find a good lawyer willing to take on the case pro bono, I would go ahead. Right now, my primary concern is raising my three children alone. I don’t know if I can afford to fund a legal case and still handle my responsibilities. If there’s support, I will push forward. But on my own, I’m not sure it’s something I can manage.
This incident is still fresh—it happened just two weeks ago. My body hasn’t even adjusted to the reality of it. Even as I talk about it now, I’m covered in goosebumps. I don’t even like talking about it.
How do you feel knowing your wife will no longer be with you?
I don’t even know how to feel. I’m just taking it one day at a time. Every day, I wake up, take my children to school, wait for them, and pick them up after school. It’s like I’m moving through life in a haze, just trying to keep things going. Explaining to the children, especially when they ask where their mum is, has been incredibly hard.
I sleep and wake up, hoping this is all a bad dream, but it’s not. It’s real. I can’t say I know how to cope or that I have any concrete plan for dealing with it. I’m just doing the best I can because, at the end of the day, life goes on, no matter how shattered you feel inside.
Were you billed for the unauthorised surgeries?
Yes, I paid. After she passed, I was given a bill of N350,000, insisting it had to be paid before I could take her body. After some back and forth, they agreed to let us pay N150,000 instead. Adding that amount to all the previous expenses, I spent close to N900,000 in total.
Is anybody supporting you at the moment?
My mum arrived two days ago to offer some help, and the baby is currently with my mother-in-law. I’m managing with the other two children here.
After the incident, did the hospital reach out to you?
No, they didn’t. I had to go to the hospital myself to request for the medical report. When I got there, the managing director sat me down and said he wanted to commiserate with me. I found it insulting. My wife died on October 30, 2024, and they didn’t think it was necessary to reach out to her family, even though she had been attending antenatal care with them for months.
It wasn’t as if it was an emergency case where she was rushed in and died. She was their patient, yet no one thought to call us to express their condolences. It’s only after I went there, and maybe because they suspect I’ll take legal action, that they started playing the sympathy card.
What do you want relevant authorities and Nigerians to do for you?
I believe my wife’s death was avoidable, caused by gross incompetence on the hospital’s part. I was standing right outside the theatre. If they discovered any issue, such as the fibroid, they should have told me immediately. They should have presented me with options and sought my consent.
The fact that they acted without informing me, claiming it’s a “normal” thing to do, is unacceptable and dangerous. How many other families have suffered the same fate because of this negligence? How many lives have been lost because of such risky and unapproved decisions? My wife’s death didn’t have to happen, and I want this to stop.
What will you miss most about your wife?
Her joviality. She was such a lively, infectious person. Wherever she went, she made her presence known. If you check the comments on my social media posts, you’ll see people talking about how much love and joy she radiated. I always told her that good people don’t last and that she should stop being too good to everyone.
I will miss her deeply, especially how she wanted us to raise our children with love and care. I used to boast that I only ate food cooked by my wife—now, here I am, eating at restaurants. It’s a painful adjustment. I just hope she rests in peace, and I’ll do my best to fulfil her dreams for our children.
What message do you have for Nigerians about this situation?
To hospitals: If you’re not equipped to handle a particular issue, don’t take it on. Someone who comes in for childbirth should not end up being subjected to unplanned fibroid operations.
To men: Stop asking women silly questions like, “What do you bring to the table?” Women bring their lives to the table every time they give birth. Respect that.
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