A recent report by Chima Azubuike published on Punch Newspaper showed how rain turns life upside down for over 4,000 people in Afghanistan Community, Garko Ward, Akko Local Government Area of Gombe State. Each rainy season, floodwater covers their only wooden bridge and cuts them off from clinics, schools and markets. What should be ordinary rainfall has become a threat to survival.
In 2024, Hajiya Fatima, a 25-year-old mother of two, went into labour at 40 weeks. Heavy rain was falling that evening. She recognised the signs and got ready to go to the health centre where she had received antenatal care. But the bridge that connects her community to the nearest town was already flooded. Her older children dashed into the storm to call for help. Hours later, she gave birth at home. The bleeding continued and would not stop. By the time the water went down enough for anyone to cross, both Fatima and her newborn had died. Community leader Ishaq Afghanistan told Punch that the delay killed them, because the bridge was impossible to cross when they needed it most.
Health officials say late access to care drives Nigeria’s high maternal death rate, which accounts for about 34 per cent of deaths worldwide. Ernest Orji, a professor of Obstetrics and Gynaecology at Obafemi Awolowo University, said most maternal deaths follow three stages of delay. First, when a woman does not see the danger early. Second, when she cannot reach a hospital due to poor roads or no transport. Third, when the hospital lacks equipment or staff to treat her quickly. For Fatima, the second stage cost her life.
The memory of that loss still pains the community. Village head Muhammad Banbulasta said the incident exposed how dangerous poor access can be. While most people worry about getting treatment, here the first battle is just getting to the hospital. Because of that fear, many pregnant women now move in with relatives in the nearby town as their due date nears. Mothers such as Hauwa Musa also spend hours searching for bike riders willing to cross the slippery bridge with sick children, praying for safety all the way.
Health is not the only thing affected. Farmer Ibrahim Adamu once spent a night outside a shop after floods washed away the access road. From across the stream he could see his wife and four children at home, but he could not reach them. School pupils miss lessons when rain blocks the path, teachers cannot get to class, and farmers lose money as crops rot and buyers offer lower prices because of the bad roads. Even funerals are harder. Families sometimes carry dead bodies on foot when vehicles cannot enter the community.
Residents built the shaky wooden bridge themselves almost ten years ago. Every year they gather money, hire carpenters and replace planks. But they admit that patching it cannot fix the real problem. The population keeps growing as more young families settle there, yet the bridge and road remain the same. The gap between what the people need and what they have keeps getting wider.
Amos Fabulous, Information Officer for Water, Environment and Forest Resources, described the bridge as a death trap and asked the community to send a written request to his ministry and the Ministry of Works. The Ministry of Health had not replied to questions about plans to bring healthcare closer as of press time.
Now, each time it rains, the community waits in fear. Children still walk across the bridge to school. Women still use it for antenatal visits. But as residents say, prayer cannot replace a road. Until government steps in, Afghanistan Community will stay linked to the rest of the world more by courage than by proper infrastructure.