
The recent call by NAFDAC’s Director General, Professor Mojisola Adeyeye, for the death penalty for peddlers of fake drugs is a bold and necessary step toward ending this lethal trade. Adeyeye had, while speaking on a TV programme, argued that only strict penalties would deter drug peddlers, especially when their actions result in the deaths of people.
The NAFDAC DG buttressed her point with the distressing example of a children’s medicine tested in NAFDAC’s Kaduna laboratory. According to her, the drug, sold at a suspiciously low price, contained no active ingredient. This is just one among countless horror stories that have become a recurring nightmare for many Nigerians.
Indeed, few crimes are as insidious and far-reaching as the distribution of counterfeit drugs. It is a silent genocide, a ruthless betrayal of public trust, and an assault on the very foundation of healthcare. NAFDAC has consistently warned about the dangers of counterfeit medicines, but the crisis persists, claiming lives, eroding public confidence in healthcare, and undermining the economy.
Counterfeit drug syndicates operate with a level of impunity that is both alarming and devastating. These criminals are not merely defrauding consumers; they are knowingly endangering lives. When a child is given a fake antibiotic, when a cancer patient receives a worthless concoction instead of life-saving medication, when a malaria sufferer ingests chalk disguised as medicine—these are acts of murder. The difference between this and pulling a trigger is only the speed of death. Fake drugs prolong suffering, disable the immune system, and, in many cases, result in preventable fatalities. It is, therefore, not hyperbolic to refer to these peddlers as merchants of death.
In a country where out-of-pocket medical expenses are already a burden for many, being sold a fake drug is not just a financial loss but often a death sentence. Some counterfeit medicines contain toxic substances like antifreeze or industrial dyes, leading to severe poisoning and organ failure. Others are mere placebos that allow diseases to progress unchecked. The World Health Organisation (WHO) has long warned about the dangers of substandard and falsified medicines, particularly in low- and middle-income countries, where regulatory enforcement is weaker and black-market trade thrives.
The Nigerian government cannot afford to treat this crisis with kid gloves. A weak penalty structure emboldens counterfeiters, making fake drug peddling a lucrative crime with minimal consequences. The threat of a few years in prison or a fine is hardly a deterrent for those who profit from mass deception and suffering. However, the death penalty sends an unambiguous message: if you knowingly sell poison disguised as medicine, you will face the full force of the law. This measure would not only serve as a deterrent but also demonstrate the government’s commitment to safeguarding public health.
Yet, laws are only as effective as their enforcement. The success of this proposition depends on the cooperation of lawmakers, law enforcement agencies, and the judiciary. The National Assembly must prioritise the passage of stringent legislation that criminalises the production, importation, and distribution of fake drugs with the highest possible penalty. The judiciary, on its part, must ensure swift prosecution of offenders, eliminating loopholes that allow criminals to evade justice. Additionally, regulatory bodies such as the Pharmaceutical Society of Nigeria (PSN) and the Pharmacy Council of Nigeria (PCN) must intensify their oversight functions, ensuring that both local manufacturers and importers of pharmaceutical products adhere to strict quality control measures.
Beyond legal consequences, there is an urgent need for public education. Nigerians must understand the real dangers of purchasing medication from unverified sources. The allure of cheaper drugs is understandable, given the economic realities of the country, but the true cost of counterfeit medicine is often paid in blood and grief. Awareness campaigns should be amplified, encouraging citizens to buy only from registered pharmacies and approved distributors.
The economic implications of fake drugs are also profound. Counterfeit medicines weaken public confidence in the pharmaceutical industry, making it harder for genuine manufacturers to thrive. They increase the financial burden on hospitals, as victims of fake drugs often require prolonged medical interventions. The long-term effect is a weakened healthcare system, higher mortality rates, and a society struggling under the weight of preventable diseases. A nation that cannot guarantee the safety of its medicine supply is a nation at war with itself.
The fight against counterfeit drugs must be relentless. NAFDAC has taken a decisive stance, and the government must rise to the occasion by enacting and enforcing the necessary laws. Anything less is an endorsement of a silent epidemic that has already claimed too many lives. This is not just about punishment; it is about justice for the countless victims—children, mothers, fathers—who never got a second chance because they unknowingly took poison in the guise of medicine. Government must act now, with unwavering resolve, to protect Nigerians from this public health catastrophe.