
MONROVIA – Jamesetta Kugmen was only 28 when her life was cut short —another name added to the growing list of Liberians lost under questionable medical circumstances. But in her case, death did not come quietly. It came with a voice — fragile but determined — a voice that still echoes on Facebook Messenger, demanding answers, justice, and one final autopsy.
By Jaheim T. Tumu | [email protected]
What began as a hopeful maternity journey in February this year quickly spiraled into a tragedy that has captivated and enraged a nation. Kugmen, pregnant with her third child, checked into ELWA Hospital in Paynesville after doctors told her she was 44 weeks and five days pregnant—an alarmingly overdue date.
Despite giving birth naturally in the past and initially hoping to do the same, she agreed to undergo a cesarean section after medical advice urged otherwise.
But instead of the joyful moment that often follows childbirth, Jamesetta’s condition began to deteriorate. Days after her surgery, she complained of severe abdominal pain and swelling. Her body, once strong and spirited, began to fail her, yet no doctor could explain why. What was expected to be routine quickly transformed into an extended nightmare.
Desperate for answers and real care, her family turned to social media, and a GoFundMe campaign led by activist Martin Kollie helped raise thousands of dollars. Jamesetta was airlifted to Ghana for further medical treatment. For a time, there was hope—photos shared online showed her standing, smiling faintly, looking like she was on her way back to life.
But that hope was short-lived.
Against the advice of her Ghanaian sponsor, Jamesetta was flown back to Liberia and admitted to the John F. Kennedy Medical Center. Just days later, she was gone.
Before her death, she sent a chilling message to her family. “Hello family, I don’t pray for any bad thing to happen to me,” she began. “But just in case I don’t make it out of this, you people should please request for an autopsy to check my abdomen properly and know the actual cause of death. I’m suspecting foul play in my medical reports both in Ghana and Liberia.” It wasn’t just a message—it was a plea, one loaded with suspicion and heartbreak.
In another part of the message, she was even more direct: “I’m begging you, please. Let doctors reopen my body in the presence of my family. You people should please don’t allow these people that did this to me to go free. There is a reason why my kidneys failed and I never had any kidney problems.”
These were not the random fears of a dying woman — they were the words of someone who sensed, with painful clarity, that something had gone wrong and that those responsible might never be held accountable.
Activist Martin Kollie, who stood by her side throughout her medical ordeal, was one of the first to raise public concern. In a public statement, he described her as “an outspoken Liberian of courage, intelligence, and resilience,” and he did not hesitate to place blame. “Against our advice and without us knowing, Jamesetta was flown back to Liberia. ELWA Hospital takes greater responsibility,” Kollie said. “Our health system let Jamesetta down. A lot of fake and incompetent doctors are causing so much damage, pain, and hurt for families in Liberia.”
Kollie’s words have been echoed by activists and citizens across the country. Candlelight vigils and protest marches have followed. In Congo Town, mourners held signs that read, “Justice for Jamesetta” and “Our Health System is Bleeding,” demanding not only answers from the hospitals involved but real accountability from the Liberia Medical and Dental Council (LMDC) and the Ministry of Health.
Her death, they argue, is emblematic of deeper systemic failures. Liberia’s health system continues to struggle with a critical shortage of skilled workers—between 11 to 12.8 per 10,000 people. Specialist doctors, trained nurses, lab technologists—all are in short supply. Misdiagnoses, botched surgeries, and preventable deaths are far too common, particularly among low-income patients with little influence.
Adding to the problem is the chronic underfunding of health facilities. As of March 2025, more than 30 percent of the budgeted funds for health centers in 13 counties had not been disbursed. This lack of support leaves hospitals ill-equipped, under-staffed, and barely functioning—conditions that make tragedies like Jamesetta’s far more likely.
Yet, despite the mounting outcry, silence looms from the institutions named in her story. Neither ELWA Hospital nor JFK Medical Center has issued a detailed account of her treatment. The family’s request for an independent autopsy has gone unanswered.
Still, Jamesetta’s final plea continues to resonate.
She was not a politician or a celebrity. She was a young mother with dreams, a voice, and a body that should have been cared for—not failed. Her death now serves as a rallying point for a growing number of Liberians demanding a healthcare system that works not just for the wealthy and well-connected, but for every citizen—especially those like Jamesetta.
“She will be missed. We mourn her in a special way,” Kollie said, adding that her death must serve as a catalyst for change. “The sad story of Jamesetta must now provoke and inspire a turning point across our healthcare system.”
As Liberia wrestles with that challenge, the pain remains deeply shared. But the truth, as Jamesetta asked for in her final moments, still feels buried—waiting to be unearthed by a system finally ready to listen.