How Unregulated Bone-Setting Homes Are Leaving Nigerians Disabled, Amputated

Despite lacking formal training or regulatory oversight, traditional bone setters across Nigeria continue to attract patients in droves, many of whom end up worse than when they arrived.

Investigations by PUNCH Healthwise reveal how desperate Nigerians, misled by cultural beliefs, poverty, and misinformation, are turning to bone-setting homes where they leave with rotting limbs, permanent deformities, and in many cases, amputations that could have been avoided with proper orthopaedic care.

One such case is Ismail Haneefah, a 47-year-old woman from Kogi who lost her leg after rejecting medical advice in favour of traditional treatment. Following a ghastly road accident in 2003, Haneefah was told by doctors that her leg needed urgent amputation. Her family refused and opted for a bone setter in a rural village. After three months of herbal concoctions and spiritual assurances, her leg rotted to the point of detachment. She eventually underwent amputation, above the knee, at the Dala Orthopaedic Hospital in Kano.

Similar was the fate of 12-year-old Damola, whose minor football injury in Aba, Abia State, led to a leg amputation after a local bone setter’s treatments introduced severe infections. His mother, Olaitan Akinsola, now lives with the pain of that choice.

These are not isolated incidents. From Lagos to Kano, PUNCH reporters visited bone-setting centres in Ikorodu, Mile 12, Ajegunle, and Majidun, uncovering poorly maintained facilities, filthy environments, and dangerous practices including unscientific re-breaking of bones and use of contaminated herbal mixtures.

In some cases, patients were asked to bring household items like cooking gas, buckets, and towels as admission requirements—further underscoring the unregulated and informal nature of the practice.

According to Prof. Mike Ogirima, a former president of the Nigerian Medical Association and orthopaedic surgeon at Ahmadu Bello University Teaching Hospital, 80% of amputations in his decades-long practice were caused by complications arising from traditional bone-setting mishaps.

“These people don’t understand anatomy or infection control. They work in filthy environments. Their methods are not just wrong—they’re dangerous,” Ogirima said.

His view was supported by Dr. Olasode Akinmokun of the Lagos University Teaching Hospital, who noted that bone fractures can naturally heal with proper rest, but TBS (Traditional Bone Setters) worsen cases through misalignment, infection, and tight splints that cut off blood flow.

Ironically, some practitioners remain revered in their communities, with clients trusting their healing prowess despite evidence of harm. PUNCH found that many patients sought TBS due to the cost of hospital treatment, long wait times, or cultural distrust of orthodox medicine.

But the consequences are dire.

In the absence of national regulation, training, or referral protocols, more Nigerians are losing limbs to misguided traditional practices. Even newborns, like Oluwapelumi Ige, are not spared—his birth-related arm injury was made worse by a bone setter, leading to permanent disability.

While stakeholders like the Nigeria Natural Medicine Development Agency (NNMDA) call for training and documentation rather than blanket condemnation of traditional methods, medical experts warn that poor oversight, lack of standardisation, and untamed quackery are fueling a quiet crisis.

Until comprehensive policies are in place to either regulate or phase out harmful bone-setting practices, vulnerable Nigerians—especially in rural and low-income areas—will continue to pay a painful price.