What Happens When An Accident Happens At Night?
This cover story is a collaboration between Night Out Nigeria and Communa Magazine.
Abuja: The Pulse of Danger in the Capital’s Nightlife
John* considers himself one of the lucky ones. “A few months after my accident, I told my friends I wanted to change my name to Lucky,” he mused.
We sat upstairs at CityBowl, along the popular Ademola Adetokunbo Crescent in Wuse 2, Abuja, on a warm Thursday evening in late July. The streets below buzzed with the usual end-of-day traffic. Across the road was the club John had left that day when he had an accident, in December 2022.
John and I chatted briefly about the evening rush. “Up until a couple of months ago, I couldn’t be around this area without having heart palpitations,” he admitted, as he watched the street.
He was on his way to drop off his girlfriend at Lugbe, a few kilometres away from the club, when they crashed into a trailer parked on the side of the road. It was about 3AM.
“We were having a silly argument about who I danced with at the club,” he said. “Sheila* [my girlfriend] died on the way to the hospital.”
They had been taken to the emergency unit of the National Hospital by the Federal Road Safety Corps, alerted by another driver, about 30 minutes after the crash.
When he regained consciousness, he requested a transfer to a private hospital where he underwent surgery for a fractured pelvis.
“I did not think I was that wasted when I decided to drive,” he said. “I was definitely frustrated with the argument, and I was tired. I had gone straight to the club from work where I’d been since 8AM, and awake since 6AM.”
“Even if someone hasn’t been drinking heavily, staying out late, being surrounded by loud music, and dealing with the general fatigue from the night can impair driving ability. Driving while tired can be just as dangerous as driving under the influence,” said Joshua* the admin behind Abuja Streets - an online directory for Abuja events and places to visit.
More often than not, John admitted, the ability to drive home safely after a fun night out is simply luck rather than a reflection of one’s driving skills or level of sobriety.
According to this report from the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), “Alcohol blunts alertness and reduces motor coordination. People who drive after using alcohol can’t react as quickly as they need to. Their vision is affected and may be blurred or doubled. Alcohol also alters depth perception, making it hard to tell whether other vehicles, pedestrians or objects are close or far away.”
John had been going to the club at least twice a week since he moved to Abuja in 2016 for law school. He had relocated from the Northeast, where the nightlife, he said, was “drier than the first episode of a really bad TV show.”
“In 2016, I was 26. Now I am pushing into my mid-thirties. And when you’ve done something for so long, it may get old. And perhaps it begins to take its toll on you. I could hold my liquor better 4 years ago than I can now. After my accident, I went through a terrible alcohol-withdrawal phase, and I thought that more than my fracture could have killed me. On those days of recovery, I’d look at myself in the mirror and say ‘My name is John and I am an alcoholic.’
“I think it’s worse when someone else is involved in your mistakes,” he continued. “I began seeing a psychiatrist, and he told me all the time that it was not my fault Sheila died and I could not have known. But I think he was just doing his job. It was my fault. I should have known, and I think it’s just one of those things I will have to live with for the rest of my life.”
He went on: “You know the crazy thing? The shame. It was really embarrassing when my friends and colleagues came to visit at the hospital. At our age, we go to hospitals for births and deaths or surgeries. There I was, bandaged up because I had been drinking. It was like being naked in front of them. I pretended to be asleep sometimes.” As we walked down the stairs, John limped slightly, his ability to walk at all only possible because of months of physical therapy.
Across Nigeria, stories of late-night accidents, often fueled by a mix of alcohol, fatigue, and the dangers of poorly-lit or bad roads are tragically common. As the statistics indicate, many do not survive to tell their stories, and those who do are often left with scars – both physical and emotional – that take years to heal, if ever at all.
Nightlife in major cities like Abuja pulses with energy, music, and a sense of freedom that often stretches into the early morning hours. In Abuja’s Central Area, the vibrant clubs, bars, and lounges promise something for everyone, making it easy to forget risks like unsafe driving and unexpected accidents that come with a night out.
But the risks of a night out aren’t confined to its Central Area. In the lower-income areas of Abuja, where the nightlife is different – more subdued but no less perilous – the consequences of a night gone wrong can be even more devastating. In these neighbourhoods, the challenges of navigating a night out take on a different form, shaped by limited resources, fewer safety nets, and a different social fabric.
“If anything happens to you, that’s the end,” was a phrase Ade*, 29, heard almost daily growing up in Police Barracks, in the suburb of Nyanya. “When you think about it, they are not wrong for saying that. If anything happens to me, neither my parents nor I have the money to take care of it,” he said, swatting at a fly that perched on his bottle of Coca-Cola. He had stopped drinking alcohol in June 2023 on the night his friend died, where he had almost died, too.
“We were coming back from a club in Karu,” he gestured north. “Peter and I popped some molly, smoked weed, and drank original Hennessy. One of our guy’s babe was celebrating her birthday.”
The duo had left the club by 2AM on Peter’s bike and crashed into an open manhole shortly after. The streets were dark, without functional streetlights, and because it was mostly a residential area, they were not found until morning. “They said Peter died from internal bleeding,” Ade said.
Ade himself had passed out and only gained his consciousness upon being rescued. He was taken to the Nyanya General Hospital and then home the same day, where a traditional bonesetter in his neighbourhood was called to “set” his broken arm. The arm is still swollen, with what appears to be a bone jutting out, which makes a popping sound whenever he moves it. He has never had it X-rayed or returned to the hospital; instead, he takes pain relief medications that he buys from vendors in public buses.
The nightlife in Karu or Nyanya cannot be described to be as energetic as that in Central Area, and is, according to Ade, “a run-down, substandard version of the splendour one experiences in the main city.” This dynamic is a clear reflection of classism. Businesses in Central Area often overlook the suburbs, assuming that people living there can’t afford to patronize them. Yet, a portion of their customer base often comes from those same suburbs. This creates a disconnect, where the economic divide is reinforced by the physical and social structures of the city, even though there’s demand from people outside the centre who want to participate in the nightlife and other activities.
The nightlife in these suburban areas is characterized by seedy hotels and even seedier bars filled with young and middle-aged people seeking an escape from their stressful home or work lives. The beers are cheaper, and the spirits slightly more expensive and reserved for special occasions celebrated with pomp and fanfare. In front of some of these establishments, cheap drugs are openly exchanged - a contrast to the appearance of sophistication and secrecy in the city.
A glaring awareness of class for some night-outers who go to Central Area to party is the struggle to get home afterwards. The public transportation system between the city and suburbs does not operate 24 hours. And although the distance is not particularly long (about an average of 18km), cab drivers are reluctant to service those areas.
“The time it would take me to drive a passenger home from Wuse or Maitama to Nyanya or Lugbe, I would have gone on 3 to 4 trips within town,” Sani, an Uber driver said. “Also, the outskirts are very unsafe. We hear of Uber drivers getting attacked at night and their vehicles stolen in those areas.”
“Unfortunately, most taxis prefer to stay within the city centre, shuttling people between nearby locations. This is because the more trips they can make within the city centre during nightlife hours, the more money they can earn,” Abuja Streets confirmed. “For instance, a Bolt driver might choose to take multiple short rides within Wuse and Maitama rather than a single longer trip to Duste, which might take about forty-five minutes. As a result, people who live outside Central Area often find it difficult to secure transportation late at night, affecting the nightlife scene and essentially marginalizes a certain customer base, limiting their ability to participate in the city’s night culture fully.”
“The last time I went to a club in Wuse, I had to sleep on the floor in one of my guy’s place. He works as a security man in town. I just called him and said ‘how far? Your guy no fit go house o’, and I went to sleep there. And in the morning I entered along [a shared taxi] to go home,” Ade said.
Whether it’s the lack of safe transportation options, the poor road conditions, or the absence of emergency response services, the odds are stacked against those who live on the fringes of Abuja.
“Road safety sometimes is very contingent on class,” says Patrick-Obi, the Executive Director of GreenLight Initiative, an organization that works on issues of transportation safety. “The response to road crashes also varies significantly between urban and rural areas. Although our emergency response system is not yet at a global standard, the response in cities is notably better than in rural areas. In urban areas, there tend to be quicker and more efficient support when accidents occur. And this is not even limited to just Abuja.”
Lagos Nightlife: The Glitters with Dark Shadows
In Lagos, Nigeria’s bustling commercial capital, the nightlife is even more vibrant, and the risks are just as high.
With a population of 23.3 million that grows by 3.2% a year, the megacity of Lagos struggles with one of the worst living conditions in the world, with issues of crime, unending traffic, and pollution. According to the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Liveability Ranking, Lagos has been ranked between third and second worst cities to live in since 2017. Despite complaints of the high cost of living and inequality in the state, Lagos has a thriving nightlife ecosystem; from restaurants, clubs, bars, and other forms of entertainment such as house parties and concerts, earning the nickname “the city that never sleeps.” One of the worrying downsides of this exciting nightlife scene is the spike in drunk-driving-related accidents and fatalities.
“The night is very profitable for my business. The roads are free for only the nightlifers, who mostly do not like to drive after a night of fun,” Kingsley Okeh, a cab driver, states. Okeh who mostly works at night, strongly believes Lagosians love nightlife because it is one of the ways they can relax and escape the country’s harsh economic realities.
Dr. Olumide Komolafe, a physician at the Lagos State Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), says Lagos nightlifers are susceptible to varying risks outside of road accidents. “Based on the few cases I have come across from patients in the hospital, there are incidents of robbery - snatching phones, wallets, handbags, etc,” he shared. “When robbers attack, they can shoot at the victims, or attack with machetes, causing injuries which can lead to death. Also, the likelihood of driving under the influence means that accidents at night can be more fatal than other forms of accidents.”
The Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), Lagos State Sector Command, recorded 276 road accidents, claiming 128 lives in Lagos between January and October 2023. FRSC corps marshal Dauda Biu attributed the causes of these crashes to “speed violations, overloading, continuous night journeys, and wrongful overtaking.”
The Lagos State Emergency Management Agency (LASEMA) also reported a total of 1,461 emergency incidents in Lagos in 2023, with a surge of 138 incidents in December alone. Out of the 138 incidents in December 2023, articulated vehicles - including trucks and tankers - played a major role in 58 incidents. The breakdown revealed 39 truck/tanker accidents and 12 breakdowns, with two tankers falling, and five getting stuck during this period. In addition to the 58, 29 other vehicles were involved in crashes.
The available data does not specify the timing and location of these accidents but unofficial statistics paint a gloomy picture, as road accidents are more likely to happen between 6PM and 6AM.
In December 2023, for instance, Yemi*, 33, along with his three friends – Biodun, Tola, and Lara* – were out enjoying a #DettyDecember night in Lekki. As they made their way back to Lagos Mainland around 2AM, another car crashed into them. Lara, the only woman in the group, died; and Biodun and Tola spent the next three months in different hospitals. Although physically unharmed, Yemi carries the emotional scars, while his friends bear the physical. Biodun suffered fractures on his right arm and leg, while Tola had a more severe fracture in his collarbone. They had been friends since their university days, and as working Lagosians, they had night hangouts after work.
That December night of fun, however, marked the end of their regular hangouts as a quartet. “I was not drunk; I was the most sober out of the four of us because I knew I had to drive. We were in our lane when the drunk driver ran into us at the junction and sent our car tumbling,” Yemi recalled the harrowing night. He described that he had observed the erratic driving from his rearview and took precaution by changing lanes, but the other car still managed to crash into them when they were about to make a turn.
Adetoyese Oyegbemi, a medical doctor at R Jolad Hospital Gbagada, believes night accidents are not significantly different from those occurring at other times. “Not all night accidents can be attributed to alcohol. Many factors may be responsible, including mechanical faults, faulty headlamps, poorly-lit roads, and unseen traffic obstacles,” he explains.
“In this light, I think Trunk B roads in Lagos are more prone to these disasters,” Dr Komolafe of LASUTH adds. Trunk B roads are state-owned roads and are usually in poorer conditions compared to Trunk A roads [federal roads].
Nonetheless, Dr. Adetoyese praised the efforts of the emergency response system, including the FRSC and LASEMA. “Responses are now swift and safe, unlike before, and that has helped avoid several traumas and injuries that could lead to deformities or death.”
Safety on the Edge: Nightlife in Enugu’s Shadows
A general lack of First Aid awareness greatly contributes to Nigeria’s rising cases of accident-related mortality as most Nigerians are unable to provide immediate assistance to accident victims.
In Enugu, Chidimma*, a university student, witnessed a bus collision with a tricycle, which trapped the tricycle passengers underneath. A large crowd gathered, but no one seemed to be doing anything to rescue the victims. “When I passed by the scene again, almost thirty minutes later, people were still gathered there. They’d pulled people from under the tricycle; one of them lay by the roadside, but nothing else was being done to help them,” she said. Chidinma, like many of the onlookers, didn’t understand the situation enough to engage.
Enugu takes on a softer, less raucous atmosphere at night. With its unforgivingly hot days, people typically seek comfort at night. Some take the opportunity to unwind over bottles of their favourite drinks. Night bars, restaurants, and clubs are populated with all kinds of people - working class and students alike. But the possibility of having a chill night out, for some, is threatened by the risks of road accidents and inaccessibility to emergency care.
Victoria (22)*, a medical student at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, remembers a great night out with friends that resulted in a crash. Victoria and two other friends sustained light scratches, while the friend driving suffered a mild concussion.
It was past midnight and the roads were empty. The incident had occurred along Ogui Road, a busy part of the city, and they figured it would be easier to book a ride to a nearby hospital to get their friend checked. But that night they found no available cars on any of the ride-hailing services operating within the city. “We were stranded out there, scared, with a damaged car,” Victoria said. “We were there for almost an hour before we got into a stranger’s car who took us to Parklane General Hospital.”
For Victoria and her friends, this unfortunate experience changed how they pursued nightlife going forward, opting for safer alternatives, like house parties. “I’m more comfortable now with indoor events at my place, or any other friend’s,” Victoria said. “It’s not the same experience as an actual nightclub, but all I need to have a good fun night is the comfort of friends, alcohol and somewhere I can crash if I feel like it.”
“One major problem we often face in care for emergency patients is that of late presentation,” Dr. Nweze said, recounting an incident that had taken place just past midnight – a man had been rushed into the unit, alongside three others with injuries of variable severities. They’d been in a road accident as a result of overspeeding and under the influence of alcohol.
“The issue is we have no paramedical services in Enugu,” says Afamefuna, an ambulance driver. “I doubt we have any functional one in the entire Nigeria.” For him, incidents of road accidents at night, or any time of day, abound because there are no toll-free lines people can reach within the state in the instance of an emergency. And the fact that there aren’t sufficient ambulances stationed at various locations. If this were not the case, the attitude of road users to ambulance siren is generally discouraging. “Nobody cares or understands the criticality of the situation. It’s just all man for himself.”
Nigeria’s emergency service is in dire need of urgent improvement. “In developed nations, there are well-known emergency numbers like 911,” said Abuja Streets. “In Nigeria, we lack a reliable and widely-known emergency contact system. Most people only have personal contacts with specific individuals in these services, which isn’t helpful in a case of widespread emergency.”
As Nigeria’s nightlife continues to thrive, accounts from major cities like Abuja, Lagos, and Enugu reveal a troubling reality that is often overlooked: The risks of a night out extend far beyond the walls of the club or the bar, but to the roads traveled to reach home, decisions made by the drivers on those roads, and the systems that are in place – or absent – to protect them.
This post was written by: Zainab Onuh-Yahaya, Habib Oladapo, and Daniel Ogba.