Post-Injection Paralysis: How ‘Medical Errors’ Left Nigerians Paralysed for Life

Abdulrahman Ibrahim, 32, sits in front of his shop, where he makes shoes, looking out with quiet resilience. His face bears the marks of someone who has fought battles only a few can understand. Yet, his spirit remains unbroken despite the limitations placed on him.

For 24 years, Ibrahim has lived with post-injection paralysis (PIP) of the sciatic nerve, a condition that reshaped his childhood after an injection left him unable to walk.

“I was around 8 years old when my right leg became immobile,” he told HumAngle. 

Since then, Ibrahim’s unnatural disability has not only stolen his childhood dream but has also been a source of stigma and discrimination for him.

A childhood altered

Growing up in Dagiri, a slum community in the Gwagwalada Area Council of the Federal Capital Territory, North-central Nigeria, Ibrahim aspired to be a security operative, inspired by the uniformed officials within his vicinity. “I was always fascinated by their authoritative presence,” he said. This dream was, however, cut short when he fell ill with malaria. His mother, alarmed, rushed him to a nearby home clinic run by a nurse.

The nurse, whom his parents always approached for treatment, recommended an injection to manage his illness. As the needle pierced his skin on that day, they had no idea that their son’s life was about to change irreversibly.

Hours after the injection, Ibrahim began to feel an unusual weakness in his leg. At first, it seemed like a temporary discomfort, something that would pass by as the medication took effect. 

“When I woke up the following morning, my right leg was numb, and I couldn’t walk properly,” he recounted. “My mother thought it wasn’t that serious since I was still recovering from malaria. As days went by, my right leg began to shrink; it was then they realised that my leg had been affected.”

Ibrahim was then taken to a government-owned hospital, where it was confirmed that his leg had been paralysed. 

Despite the World Health Organisation’s (WHO) guidelines on safe injection procedures, studies and experts have highlighted the prevalence of post-injection sciatic nerve injuries in Nigeria, emphasising the existence of unsafe practices. A five-year review at Oni Memorial Children Hospital in Ibadan, South West Nigeria, reported 210 cases among 800 paediatric patients, with a significant number suffering right-limb paralysis. Most of these injections had been administered in private facilities.

Dr Halima Adamu, a paediatric neurologist with Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital in Kano, explained that when an intramuscular injection is improperly administered on the buttocks, it affects the sciatic nerve, leading to paralysis of the leg. She attributed this challenge to quackery and inefficient training for health personnel.

“Professionally, there’s a technique and anatomical site (safe sites) for administering an intramuscular injection. If the person injecting a patient is not well trained, it can result in paralysis,” she told HumAngle. “Post-injection paralysis is a medical problem because it can be as high as 25 to 26 per cent of the children who receive intramuscular injections that are affected and left with a limping leg.”

The scars

Ibrahim believes the scar he carries is a major roadblock in his life. After trying numerous jobs that are compatible with his condition and strength, Ibrahim finds solace in his shoemaking shop.

“As time passed [after the deformity], I developed a passion for motor mechanics, but couldn’t continue,” he said. “Eventually, I started fixing generators and smaller engines, but it required strength, which I don’t fully have, so I had to quit. If I never had this issue, I would be better than I am today. In every step of my life, it delays me. I have tried four different skills before settling for shoemaking.”

This condition has stolen a lot from its victims. For some, it’s their dream; for Ibrahim, it has not only deprived him of marriage but has also exposed him to discrimination and ridicule.

“There was a time when I was preparing to get married, and the girl’s parents told her to inform me that they could not be in-laws with a person with a disability,” Ibrahim recounted. “Some friends don’t even like associating with me the way they do with others without disabilities. There are challenges every day.”

Anago Chidi also bears the same scar. He was just 10 years old when he and his twin brother developed a fever and were rushed to a private health facility in Ibadan. Tests confirmed they had malaria and typhoid. That evening, after being injected by a nurse, Chidi’s left leg became paralysed.

Before then, Chidi, nicknamed Pelé by his peers, was a talented footballer with a clear ambition: to play professionally. “This condition has hindered me in achieving my biggest dream of being a footballer. People always mocked me. So I had to quit. I don’t even watch football anymore,” he told HumAngle.

More troubles for Chidi

Now 43, Chidi, received another injection that almost affected his only mobile leg—the right one. Last December, he visited a roadside pharmacy to buy medication for malaria. When there was no improvement after completing the required dose, injections were recommended.

He was placed on a three-day injection—one shot every evening. On the second day, Chidi couldn’t walk; his leg was numb. The spot where the injection was administered had swollen up.

“I complained to the pharmacist, and he gave me some tablets. Unfortunately, it was too late because the wound had begun to discharge pus,” he said.

As his condition worsened, he sought treatment at a proper medical facility in a desperate attempt to save his only mobile leg, which he relies on to run his boutique business. In the end, he spent over ₦700,000 ($464) on treatment before his leg was saved.

Chidi’s wound is gradually healing, and he can now move around. However, he has vowed never to take injections unless necessary.

Failed dream?

Adamu Salihu is another victim of post-injection paralysis. He has lived with it for about 25 years now. Now running a mechanic shop in Gwagwalada, Salihu had previously tried several jobs. 

“I had to quit school to learn a trade. I am a motorcycle mechanic, but I had an accident that affected the same leg. I have not fully recovered from it,” he told HumAngle. “When I had that accident, I almost lost hope. It felt as if I was useless and I wouldn’t achieve anything in life. I lost my confidence until I started selling motorcycle parts.”

Despite not achieving his childhood ambition of becoming a customs officer, Salihu said he is committed to being a successful businessman. “I won’t allow my unnatural disability to turn me into a beggar as we see in our societies today,” he said.  

While the condition tends to improve in some patients, others live with it throughout their lives. Dr Halima revealed that such a condition takes a psychological toll on the victims at an older age, but it mostly traumatises the mothers at the initial stage.

“Since it happens at a young age, the victims do not know the magnitude of the trauma because they are unaware of the disadvantages of having a limping leg,” she said.

While calling for improved training and retraining of health workers to mitigate this avoidable health concern, Dr Halima advised that children should not be given such injections unless necessary.

Until then, victims like Ibrahim, Chidi, and Salihu will have to continue building resilience as they bear the brunt of this haunting medical disaster.