Why Toba Ogunremi Is Using His Birthday To Fund Life-Saving Care For 43 Mothers

In 2018, outside a Federal Medical Centre in Abeokuta, Toba Ogunremi was approached by a man asking for help.

He said his wife needed an emergency C-section. The amount he asked for was small, ₦2,000. Just over a pound. Toba was not entirely convinced by the story, but he gave the money anyway and moved on.

Nearly two years later, the same man found him again. This time, he was not alone. His wife was with him, and a young girl ran ahead of them. The child had survived.

“That moment stayed with me,” Toba says. “Not because of what I did, but because of how little it took for that outcome to change.”

At the time, he shared the experience quietly on Facebook. There was no wider intention behind it, just something he felt needed to be expressed. But the impact of that moment did not end there.

With the support of family and a small circle of friends, Toba began contributing to similar cases. The work was not formalised, and it was never positioned as an initiative. Some years, support was consistent. Other years, it was limited by circumstances. But it continued, quietly, across 2018, 2019, and then again in more recent years.

What ties these efforts together is a specific kind of need. In many parts of Nigeria, access to maternal care is not only a medical issue, but a financial one. Women who require emergency procedures, including C-sections, can find themselves unable to proceed without upfront payment. In some cases, they remain in hospitals after delivery, unable to leave due to unpaid bills.

It is a reality that does not always receive sustained attention, despite Nigeria continuing to record one of the highest maternal mortality rates globally.

Toba’s approach has been direct. Rather than working at the level of policy or advocacy, the focus has been on immediate intervention. Covering surgical costs where possible. Supporting hospital discharges. Responding to situations where delay can have serious consequences.

This year, he has chosen to make that work more visible. Instead of celebrating his birthday in the usual way, Toba has asked that contributions be directed toward supporting 43 mothers in underserved communities across Nigeria. The number is deliberate.

“Forty-three mothers,” he says. “Because no one should die while giving life.”

The goal is to fund emergency C-sections, assist women who are being held in hospitals due to unpaid bills, and support cases where complications have gone untreated due to lack of access.

For someone whose professional work is rooted in healthcare systems, governance, and accountability, the initiative reflects a different side of the same thinking.

“It’s easy to talk about systems,” Toba says. “But sometimes the gap is immediate. Someone needs help now, not after a policy shift or a long-term solution.”

Until recently, he had been hesitant to speak about this publicly. Much of the work had been done quietly, without documentation or outreach. But over time, that approach began to feel limiting.

“Keeping it private also limits who can be part of it,” he explains.

By sharing it more openly, the intention is not to position the effort, but to widen participation. To allow others to contribute, directly or indirectly, to situations where small amounts can have a significant impact.

There is also a broader message in how the initiative has been shaped.

For Toba, leadership is not only about the systems he works within, but about how those values translate into action outside of them. The same principles that guide his professional work, accountability, responsiveness, and dignity, are present here, just in a more immediate form.

The structure is simple. The impact is specific. And in a context where maternal health outcomes remain uneven, it highlights something that often gets overlooked.

That in some cases, the difference between risk and survival is not always complex. It can come down to access, timing, and whether someone steps in when it matters.