In hospitals that are not privately owned, the stories of patient frustration never seem to end; endless complaints about doctors who are rude, distant, or simply not present. Let it be known, patient’s frustrations are real and valid because they are in pain, scared, or worried about a loved one; and at that time empathy is not a luxury; it’s a lifeline to them. Yet too often, that lifeline feels frayed. But before we throw the entire profession under the bus, we need to ask: What went wrong?

Once upon a time, almost every doctor wore their white coat like a superhero cape. They entered medical school with hearts full of hope, determined to make a difference, heal the sick, become the patient’s favourite doctor, to be the difference in the system and write a new story for healthcare experience in Nigeria. They studied through blackout nights, survived strike-ridden residencies, fast forward to today, many still do exactly that, every single day, against all odds. But some, a very small few, have lost their way.

There’s no justification for neglect, no badge of honour in treating patients like files instead of people. But for every one doctor who has checked out emotionally, detached, there are dozens still showing up, still pushing through broken systems, long shifts, and impossible demands to care for their patients. These are the unsung heroes; the doctors who bring not just skill, but soul, to the consulting room.

The System’s Weight on Their Shoulders

Let us talk about the system. Imagine working 48-hour shifts with little sleep, outdated equipment or even faulty ones, and patient loads that would break even the best-trained. Now imagine doing it for a paycheck that barely covers rent. Sound like a setup for burnout, right? You bet.

Many doctors, especially those in non private hospitals, are juggling too many balls with too little support. Some have simply cracked under the pressure. Others have hardened as a defense mechanism, detaching emotionally because caring too much, in a system that gives too little, can be devastating.

Then there’s the 1%. The ones who seem to have lost all empathy, all sense of duty. They treat patients like interruptions, not people. For them, the white coat is no longer a symbol of healing, but a shield behind which they hide indifference. To those, we say: the profession deserves better! Patients deserve better! But let’s not let the bad apples rot the entire bunch.

“If compassion is so good for us, why don’t we train our health care provides in compassion, so that they can do what they’re supposed to do, which is to transform suffering. –  Joan Halifax”

To the Ones Who Still Care: We See You

To the doctors who still listen, still explain, still comfort; thank you. To the ones who make eye contact, hold a hand, or take an extra minute to reassure a nervous patient; we see you. You are not just doing your job; you’re living your calling.

You are the ones who stay past your shift to ensure a mother delivers safely. The ones who explain lab results in plain English so a father can understand his child’s condition. The ones who fight with management to get one more oxygen cylinder for a gasping patient. These doctors smile when they’re tired, and show empathy even when the system gives them no reason to.

You are the heartbeat of our healthcare system. In the middle of chaos, you create moments of care. And even if it feels like no one notices; we do. Your patients, do. The families you have comforted, the lives you have saved; they remember.

Let Us Tell Better Stories

It is easy to throw all doctors into one basket, label them as cold or uncaring. But just like every other profession, there’s a spectrum — the good, the great, and yes, the disappointing. We must learn to call out bad behavior without erasing the excellence that surrounds it.

So let us be balanced.

• Let us critique the system, but celebrate the stars.
• Let us challenge the indifferent, but uplift the empathetic.
• Let us speak the truth; the full truth, not just the easy parts.

And if you are one of the doctors still standing in the trenches, still serving with heart and humanity, even when the system gives you every reason not to; please keep going. You are not invisible. You are invaluable. Your white coat may not be a superhero cape, but for the patient, their families, the communities you serve, it might as well be.

And for you reading, if you have had a great experience with a doctor, even a small moment of kindness, empathy, support; we want to hear about it. We want to celebrate the doctor, nurse with you. Kindly tag them and leave a thank you message. Your story may remind another doctor why they chose this path in the first place.