By Tope Adeniyi, CEO, AXA Mansard Health Limited
For many successful Nigerians, healthcare is one of those subjects we assume we have solved. We may not say it loudly, but the confidence is often there. If anything serious happens, we have an unspoken confidence that we will find a way around it. We have worked hard, built networks, created options, and earned the kind of financial flexibility that should, in theory, make difficult situations more manageable.
While those assumptions may be true on the one hand, my lived truth is that healthcare has a way of humbling even the most “prepared” among us.
From my vantage point as the CEO of Nigeria’s biggest health insurance company, I have learned that one of the biggest misconceptions affluent Nigerians hold is that wealth naturally translates into healthcare access. It does not. Wealth can improve your options, yes. But it does not automatically create the speed, coordination, clarity, and continuity that serious healthcare situations often demand.
In business, money can unlock many things quickly. In healthcare, however, the real question is often not, “Can you pay?” It is, “Can you access the right care at the right time, with the right support around you?” That distinction matters more than many people realise.
Too often, we reduce international healthcare to a simple idea: if the need arises, I will travel. But making global healthcare work for Nigerians is more complex than booking a flight or knowing the name of a foreign hospital. It is about understanding pathways. It is about knowing where to go, how to get admitted, who is coordinating the process, how decisions are made under pressure, and whether the patient and family are supported through what can be a frightening and disorienting moment.
A medical emergency is rarely just a medical event. It can very quickly become a family crisis, a business continuity issue, and an emotional test of how prepared everyone really is.
That is why I believe healthcare planning deserves to be viewed differently, especially by professionals, entrepreneurs, and business leaders. We are used to planning for risk in other parts of life. We think about investments, governance, succession, tax exposure, liquidity, and reputation. Yet many still approach health with an optimism that is not quite planning. We assume that because we have means, we have readiness.
True preparedness is not simply having money in the bank or a passport with visa in the drawer. It is having access to a system that can work when emotions are high, time is short, and the stakes are deeply personal.
This conversation is not about promoting anxiety, nor is it about dismissing the progress being made within our local healthcare ecosystem. It is about honesty. It is about recognising that for Nigerians with global lives and responsibilities, health planning must become more intentional, more structured, and more realistic.
In the end, making global healthcare work for Nigerians starts with a mindset shift. We must stop seeing healthcare preparedness as a matter of affordability alone and start seeing it for what it truly is: an access question.
Because when life becomes uncertain, money may open some doors. But preparedness with a healthcare plan like iMED is what ensures the right ones open in time.
