Priced Out of Childbirth: Women Battle Soaring Delivery Costs

For Adeola Laolu, a first-time mother, the pain of labour was only one part of the ordeal. The greater burden came after childbirth—the mounting cost of giving birth.

While she recovered on her hospital bed, her husband, Akin, spent hours moving from one payment point to another, settling hospital bills, buying prescribed drugs, paying for laboratory tests and consumables, and even donating blood.

What the couple had expected to be an affordable delivery at a government-owned hospital quickly turned into a financial nightmare.

“People go to general hospitals because they believe the services are cheaper, but that is no longer the case,” Adeola told Vanguard, her voice reflecting both exhaustion and frustration.

“At first, the bill was ₦55,000. Later it increased to ₦65,000. After that, we kept buying drugs. Before we knew it, we had spent far more than we planned.”

For Akin, the emotional strain was matched by the financial pressure. What should have been a joyful experience became an endless cycle of payments and uncertainty.

“Every time you think you’ve paid the last bill, they hand you another list,” he said.

Sometimes it was medication. Other times it was laboratory tests, gloves, disinfectants or baby supplies. Even after donating blood, he said the family was still asked to purchase additional medical consumables.

“You just keep spending because you don’t have a choice. Your wife is in labour, your baby is coming, and that isn’t the moment to argue over costs.”

‘General hospitals are no longer affordable’

For Adeola, the financial burden went beyond the hospital bills.

“People still go to general hospitals because they expect childbirth to be affordable, but things have changed. General hospitals are now for people who have money,” she said.

“They ask you to buy things you don’t even need. You’re given long lists of drugs, and in the end, you don’t even use many of them.”

She claimed that families whose relatives require a Caesarean Section (CS) at Gbagada General Hospital in Lagos should be prepared to spend between ₦700,000 and ₦800,000, while others with more complicated cases have reportedly spent over ₦1 million.

“If you don’t have between ₦700,000 and ₦800,000, don’t even bother going,” she said.

‘What exactly are we paying for?’

The couple said what troubled them most was the stark contrast between the amount they paid and the conditions at the hospital.

According to them, the ward was overcrowded, with mothers sharing limited space. There were no baby cots, broken windows allowed mosquitoes into the wards at night, and buckets had been placed beneath leaking sections of the roof to collect rainwater.

“You look around and ask yourself, what exactly are we paying for?” Akin said.

“This is a general hospital, yet the roof is leaking, there are no baby cots, and mosquitoes are everywhere—even around newborn babies. You can hardly sleep at night. If people are paying this much, they should at least receive value for their money.”

Adeola said recovery after childbirth was made even more difficult by the poor quality of meals served to patients.

“A woman needs nutritious food after giving birth, especially protein to aid recovery. But the meals were barely enough. They served mothers portions that wouldn’t satisfy a child, yet you’re paying for both the food and the service.”

Despite the challenges, she praised the hospital’s medical personnel.

“The doctors are excellent. They respond quickly during emergencies and work together professionally to save lives. I have no complaints about the quality of medical care.”

When affordable care becomes unaffordable

Adeola believes public hospitals, once regarded as the most affordable option for expectant mothers, are gradually becoming inaccessible to ordinary Nigerians.

“General hospitals are no longer what they used to be. By the time you get there, what you budgeted is nowhere near what you eventually spend. You’re constantly being sent for additional tests and, in some cases, asked to repeat them.”

Her experience reflects the growing concerns of many Nigerian families struggling to afford maternal healthcare.

High costs, higher risks

Speaking on the rising cost of maternal healthcare, Akinde said the price of a Caesarean Section varies across states and depends largely on the type of hospital.

He recalled that Ondo State operated a free Caesarean Section programme during the administration of former Governor Olusegun Mimiko, although he could not confirm whether the policy remains in place.

According to him, most public hospitals across the South-West now charge between ₦150,000 and ₦200,000 for a Caesarean Section, while private hospitals charge significantly more.

“In high-end private hospitals in Lagos, a Caesarean Section can cost as much as ₦3 million. Mid-range and smaller private hospitals typically charge between ₦1.5 million and ₦2 million,” he said.

He explained that private hospitals receive no government support and must independently fund staff salaries, electricity, water supply, security, equipment and taxes.

Akinde warned that the rising cost of emergency obstetric care is contributing to Nigeria’s persistently high maternal mortality rate, as many women delay seeking treatment until complications become life-threatening.

“Many patients only come to hospital after exhausting every other option because they simply cannot afford care earlier. By the time they arrive, the situation has often become critical.”

He urged governments at all levels to move beyond policy announcements by ensuring maternal health programmes are properly implemented, monitored and evaluated.

Akinde also advocated wider health insurance coverage to provide free or heavily subsidised maternity care for low-income families.

“Health insurance should guarantee free or affordable maternity services for low-income earners, and governments must ensure these programmes work. Professional bodies like SOGON and the Nigerian Medical Association have advocated free Caesarean Section services for years. Investing in maternal healthcare is one of the most important investments any government can make.”

Without urgent intervention, he warned, more women would resort to giving birth outside health facilities, increasing the risks of maternal and newborn illness and death.

A ₦180,000 bill that became ₦1 million

Adeola’s experience is far from unique.

For Jonathan Adeyemi, a Lagos resident, what began as an estimated ₦180,000 bill for his wife’s Caesarean Section at Ayinke House, Lagos State University Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), eventually ballooned to more than ₦1 million.

When his wife, Shade, was admitted in January 2025, he believed they had adequately prepared for the delivery.

However, after their baby was born on February 7, doctors informed the family that the newborn had developed complications requiring prolonged intensive care.

From that moment, the bills escalated daily.

There were charges for incubator care, specialised nursing services, laboratory investigations and an endless stream of prescriptions.

“When I paid the initial ₦180,000, I genuinely believed it was the biggest expense we would face in welcoming our baby safely,” Jonathan recalled.