Dr Dora, the scourge of Nigeria's drug fakers, is honoured
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Your support makes all the difference.She is known affectionately in her native Nigeria as Doctor Dora but, to the criminal gangs that peddle counterfeit drugs in one of the world's most corrupt countries, Professor Dora Akunyili is not a figure of affection. She is the enemy and they want her dead.
When Professor Akunyili, 51, became director of Nigeria's food and drugs administration (Nafdac) in 2001, up to 80 per cent of drugs in the country's hospitals and pharmacies were fake. Lured by big profits and weak laws, criminal gangs switched from dealing in guns and cocaine to the illicit trade in fake medicine. Nafdac regulators were easily bribed and, as counterfeits flooded the markets, Professor Akunyili estimates millions died as a result, including her diabetic sister Vivian, who received fake insulin.
Already a hero in Nigeria, Professor Akunyili is now winning international recognition for her fearless assault on what she calls "terrorism against public health". Yesterday, she received the International Service Human Rights Award in London after her public awareness campaign and clampdown on corruption led to an 80 per cent drop in the levels of fake drugs in Nigeria. She said: "I am elated. This is a big morale booster."
The World Health Organisation estimates 10 per cent of pharmaceutical drugs worldwide are counterfeit, rising to 25 per cent in developing countries. But in Nigeria not long ago things were out of control. Seeking revenge for the loss of her sister and countless other Nigerians, Professor Akunyili took on what became perhaps the most dangerous job in the country.
Her unswerving drive to rid Nigeria of fake drugs and those who import them from countries such as India and China has undoubtedly saved millions of lives, but her one-woman war quickly created enemies.
Nafdac offices were burnt down and, by the end of 2003, Professor Akunyili's family had suffered death threats. They spent that Christmas in their home village behind guarded doors. "We were held hostage in our own house," she said. After three days, Professor Akunyili insisted on travelling to a local Christmas festival. "I thought they would not dare to pursue me in the village," she said. "But on our way back the bullets started coming in from behind our car and blew out the windows."
A bullet grazed her scalp, passing through her traditional headdress, which she keeps as a souvenir. Somehow she escaped with her life but the driver of a nearby bus was not so lucky. "When I visited his wife, I felt so bad," she said. "That driver took my bullet. He died for me."
Although her notoriety has threatened to leave her six children without a mother, Professor Akunyili clearly enjoys fame. "Look at small me becoming a celebrity," she said.
But the attention has not distracted her from her personal war on the counterfeiters. "They should face the death penalty because what they are doing is evil," she said. "There is no evil that I can compare with that of counterfeit drugs."
Despite success in her own country, Professor Akunyili believes that without better international co-operation, it will be impossible to stem the tide of counterfeit drugs that flood hospitals and pharmacies around the world. "We are little people fighting with tiny hands," she said.
Professor Akunyili comes across as a strong, intelligent woman, but when she talks about the personal cost of the counterfeits, her eyes redden and her booming voice falters. "My sister died for nothing," she said. "I don't want people to go through what I went through. If I can protect them I will be happy."
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