The high price of fighting fake drugs

Nigeria’s war against counterfeit pharmaceuticals has entered a new phase. And it’s about time.

On Wednesday, Prof Mojisola Adeyeye, the director-general of the National Agency for Food, Drugs Administration and Control (NAFDAC), disclosed that her agency had seized illicit drugs worth over N1 trillion. One trillion. Let that sink in.

What’s more alarming isn’t just the astronomical figure but what it represents – a shadowy industry thriving on human suffering, with operators who will stop at nothing to protect their deadly trade.

“I have two policemen living in my house 24/7 in Abuja and Lagos. I don’t have a life. I can’t go anywhere without police escorts,” Prof Adeyeye revealed at a State House briefing. These aren’t the words of someone engaged in a routine regulatory exercise. They’re the stark admission of someone at war.

This isn’t hyperbole. NAFDAC staff have faced kidnapping attempts and death threats. One Kano-based employee had his child abducted simply for doing his job. The child fortunately escaped, but the message from the criminal networks was clear: back off, or else.

Why such violent pushback? Because the stakes are enormous. NAFDAC’s recent operation, targeting Nigeria’s three major open drug markets – Ariaria and Eziukwu Markets in Aba, Bridge Head Market in Onitsha, and Idumota Drug Market in Lagos – resulted in 87 truckloads of banned, expired, and substandard medical products being confiscated.

The scale of this criminal enterprise became even clearer when Dr. Martins Iluyomade, NAFDAC’s South-East zonal director, led a 4am raid on the “Ogbo Ogu Market” in Onitsha. What they found was mind-boggling – not just fake and expired drugs, but an entire counterfeiting ecosystem.

Empty drug containers with fraudulent NAFDAC numbers and the names of legitimate manufacturers were discovered alongside fake drugs waiting to be packaged. These weren’t just random medications, but as Dr. Iluyomade put it, “very, very sensitive medicine that the people need.” The most expensive, life-saving drugs are precisely the ones being counterfeited.

This explains why Prof Adeyeye is now calling for the death penalty for those involved in producing and selling fake drugs. It’s a position that might seem extreme until you consider what’s at stake.

Counterfeit drugs don’t just defraud consumers – they kill them. When a desperate parent buys what they believe is medicine for their sick child, only to administer a useless or harmful substance, we’re not just talking about a commercial crime. We’re talking about murder.

The current legal framework is woefully inadequate. As NAFDAC’s Public Relations Officer in Lagos, Mrs Christy Obiazikwor, pointed out, offenders can simply pay a small fine – a maximum of N500,000 – and walk free. Some cases have languished in courts since 2010 without resolution.

Compare this to countries like China and India, where large-scale drug counterfeiting can attract life imprisonment or capital punishment. Our legal response must match the severity of the crime.

So far, NAFDAC’s nationwide clampdown has resulted in over 11,000 shops being sealed and 40 individuals arrested. In Onitsha alone, more than 4,000 shops have been closed, with similar numbers in Aba and over 3,000 in Lagos.

However, these markets distribute 80% of medications nationwide. The scale of the problem is staggering, and the enforcement operation has barely scratched the surface. In Onitsha, according to Prof Adeyeye, they’ve completed only 20% of the necessary work.

The challenges are formidable. Nigeria’s borders remain porous, allowing easy smuggling of counterfeit products. Corruption within regulatory agencies hampers enforcement efforts. And weak inter-agency coordination creates gaps that criminals exploit.

What’s particularly disturbing is the sophistication of these counterfeiters. These aren’t street vendors selling obvious fakes. These are organised criminal networks with the capacity to replicate packaging, create fake NAFDAC registration numbers, and establish distribution systems that reach across the country.

According to the World Health Organisation, one in ten medical products in low- and middle-income countries is either substandard or falsified. In Nigeria, fake medicines account for an estimated 15-17% of drugs in circulation. That’s not just a regulatory failure – it’s a public health emergency.

National Treasurer of the Pharmaceutical Society of Nigeria, Kilani Jelili describes counterfeit drug dealers as “hired killers.” It’s an apt comparison. These criminals know exactly what they’re doing and the harm they’re causing.

Do we need a death penalty for fake drug manufacturers and sellers? The question forces us to confront uncomfortable realities about our justice system and societal values. But when we consider the scale of damage – the countless lives lost, treatments that fail, and the undermining of our healthcare system – perhaps the real question is: can we afford not to implement the harshest penalties?

NAFDAC’s crusade against fake drugs isn’t just about regulatory compliance. It’s about the fundamental right of Nigerians to access safe, effective medicines. It’s about ensuring that when a doctor prescribes treatment, patients can trust that what they’re taking will heal, not harm.

Prof Adeyeye says she “doesn’t have a life” because of the security threats she faces. But her sacrifice, and that of the NAFDAC staff, highlights the critical importance of this battle. Without their courage, many more Nigerians would die from medicines meant to save them.

The truth is, until we treat drug counterfeiting with the seriousness it deserves – both legally and socially – the N1 trillion worth of fake drugs seized will represent just the tip of a deadly iceberg.

What’s at stake isn’t just public health but public trust. And in a country where trust in institutions is already fragile, that’s something we cannot afford to lose.