The tools to eliminate hepatitis are already available.
Across the world, millions carry a silent infection that will, without intervention, become cancer — yet the tools to stop it already exist. Zainab Shinkafi-Bagudu, leading the Union for International Cancer Control, is pressing a foundational argument: liver cancer cannot be prevented without first eliminating hepatitis B and C, the infections responsible for the majority of cases globally. In Nigeria and across low-resource settings, structural barriers — inadequate vaccination, scarce screening, prohibitive costs, and stigma — keep millions undiagnosed and untreated, turning a preventable disease into a death sentence. The question before the global health community is not whether the tools exist, but whether the will to deploy them equitably can be summoned in time.
- Hepatitis B infects up to 12% of Nigeria's population, meaning tens of millions of people are silently progressing toward cirrhosis, organ failure, and liver cancer without knowing it.
- Vaccination coverage at birth remains dangerously low across Africa and Asia, leaving the populations with the heaviest disease burden the least protected.
- Stigma tied to transmission routes discourages people from seeking testing or disclosing their status, compounding a crisis already defined by invisibility.
- Shinkafi-Bagudu is pushing for hepatitis prevention and treatment to be folded into national health insurance packages, arguing that access reform is the missing link between existing tools and real-world impact.
- The World Hepatitis Summit in Taiwan drew governments, clinicians, researchers, and affected communities together — a rare convergence of stakeholders that signals growing momentum but not yet guaranteed action.
- The path forward depends on whether cancer and hepatitis organizations can abandon their separate lanes and build the coordinated, cross-sector response that elimination actually requires.
Zainab Shinkafi-Bagudu, who leads the Union for International Cancer Control through 2026, has been making an argument that is simple in form but vast in consequence: liver cancer cannot be prevented without eliminating hepatitis. The link is direct — hepatitis B and C are the leading causes of liver cancer worldwide — yet the disease receives far less attention than its burden warrants, despite being preventable, treatable, and in some cases curable.
The scale is difficult to absorb. Both viruses spread silently, often for years without symptoms, and people typically discover their infection only when complications — cirrhosis, organ failure, cancer — have already taken hold. In Nigeria, hepatitis B affects between 8 and 12 percent of a population exceeding 200 million. Millions remain undiagnosed, their infections advancing without interruption.
The barriers are structural and entrenched. Awareness is low, screening is scarce, and treatment costs exceed what most affected people can pay. Birth-dose vaccination coverage — the intervention that could prevent hepatitis B infection entirely — remains inadequate across low- and middle-income countries where the burden is heaviest. Stigma, rooted in the disease's association with drug use and sexual transmission, keeps people from seeking care or disclosing their status.
Shinkafi-Bagudu has been working to dismantle these barriers through direct engagement: meeting with Nigeria's health insurance leadership to push for integration of hepatitis care into national benefit packages, attending the World Hepatitis Summit in Taiwan in April 2026, and convening discussions at the United Nations. The message is consistent — the tools exist, and what is missing is equitable deployment.
The opportunity she is pressing for is coordination. Cancer and hepatitis organizations have long operated in parallel without meaningful convergence. She is calling for hepatitis screening to be embedded in cancer prevention efforts, treatment access to be framed as a health equity imperative, and vaccination campaigns to reach the communities most at risk. The World Hepatitis Summit offered a glimpse of what that coalition could look like. Whether it holds — and whether it translates into expanded programs, integrated screening, and affordable treatment — is the question that will determine how many preventable deaths are actually prevented.
Zainab Shinkafi-Bagudu, who leads the Union for International Cancer Control through 2026, has spent the past months making a case that sounds simple on its surface but carries enormous weight: you cannot prevent liver cancer without eliminating hepatitis. The connection is direct. Hepatitis B and C infections are the leading causes of liver cancer worldwide, yet the disease receives a fraction of the attention it deserves despite being preventable, treatable, and sometimes curable.
The scale of the problem is staggering. Globally, hepatitis B and C spread silently through populations, often for years without symptoms. People discover they carry the virus only when complications emerge—cirrhosis, organ failure, cancer. By then, the damage is done. In Nigeria, where Shinkafi-Bagudu has been working to build momentum for change, hepatitis B infects between 8 and 12 percent of the population. Hepatitis C ranges from 1 to 2 percent. These are not small numbers in a country of over 200 million people. Millions remain undiagnosed and untreated, their infections progressing silently toward serious disease.
The barriers to addressing this crisis are structural and stubborn. Awareness remains low in many communities. Screening is not widely available. When testing and treatment are available, they often cost more than people can afford. Hepatitis B vaccination, which could prevent infection entirely, has not reached enough newborns—the birth dose coverage remains inadequate across low- and middle-income countries, particularly in Africa and Asia where the disease burden is heaviest. Stigma compounds the problem. Because hepatitis can spread through drug use and sexual contact, the disease carries social weight that discourages people from seeking care or disclosing their status.
Shinkafi-Bagudu has been moving through the corridors of power to change this. She met with Nigeria's health insurance director and with Dr. Danjuma Adda, a prominent voice in the country's health response, to discuss integrating hepatitis prevention and treatment into the national health insurance benefit packages. She attended the World Hepatitis Summit in Taiwan in April 2026, where government leaders, clinicians, researchers, and affected communities gathered to chart a path toward elimination. She has convened conversations at the United Nations General Assembly. The message is consistent: the tools exist. What is missing is the will to deploy them equitably.
Adda captured the core problem in a single sentence: hepatitis elimination cannot happen while millions remain undiagnosed, untreated, and excluded from care. The statement is not rhetorical. It describes the current reality. Effective vaccines exist. Treatments that can cure hepatitis C and suppress hepatitis B are available. Screening technologies work. What does not work is the current system of access—fragmented, expensive, and unequally distributed.
The opportunity lies in coordination. Cancer organizations and hepatitis organizations have historically worked in separate lanes. Shinkafi-Bagudu is arguing for integration: screening for hepatitis as part of cancer prevention efforts, treatment access as part of broader health equity work, vaccination campaigns that reach the populations most at risk. This requires collaboration across sectors—health ministries, insurance authorities, civil society, research institutions, and the communities themselves.
The World Hepatitis Summit brought that coalition together, at least temporarily. Whether the momentum translates into sustained action—into expanded vaccination programs, into hepatitis screening integrated into primary care, into treatment made affordable and accessible—remains an open question. But the case has been made clearly: preventing liver cancer means preventing hepatitis. And preventing hepatitis means treating it as the urgent, solvable public health crisis it is.
Notable Quotes
Hepatitis elimination cannot happen while millions remain undiagnosed, untreated, and excluded from care.— Dr. Danjuma Adda
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does hepatitis matter so much to a cancer organization? Aren't they different diseases?
They're connected at the root. Hepatitis B and C cause most liver cancers globally. If you want to prevent the cancer, you have to address the infection first.
But hepatitis is preventable and treatable, right? Why is it still such a problem?
The tools exist, but access doesn't. In Nigeria, millions don't know they're infected. Vaccines don't reach newborns. Treatment costs too much. Stigma keeps people from seeking care.
What's the stigma about?
Hepatitis spreads through routes that conflict with cultural norms in many places—drug use, sexual contact. People don't want to be tested or treated because of what it might mean socially.
So it's not a medical problem, it's a systems problem.
Exactly. The medicine works. What doesn't work is getting it to the people who need it. That's why Shinkafi-Bagudu is pushing for integration—making hepatitis screening and treatment part of regular health care, not a separate, stigmatized thing.
What would integration actually look like?
Hepatitis screening built into cancer prevention programs. Treatment covered by health insurance. Vaccination campaigns that reach every newborn. Clinicians trained to recognize and treat it. It requires coordination across government, health systems, and communities.
Is that happening?
There's momentum. The World Hepatitis Summit brought stakeholders together. But momentum isn't the same as change. The real test is whether countries actually fund and implement these programs.