Ibrahim Chatta Opens Up: "My Daughter Was Buried in a Wooden Crate" After Losing Her Over Unpaid Hospital Bill

In a deeply emotional revelation, veteran Nollywood actor Ibrahim Chatta has shared a heartbreaking chapter of his life—one marked by poverty, loss, and the painful memory of a daughter he couldn’t save due to financial hardship.

In a recently resurfaced video, originally featured on Abiola Orisile Events & Parties TV, Chatta opened up about the tragic loss of his first child, who passed away after he was unable to raise money for her medical treatment.

"My first child isn’t Malik," he said in the video, speaking with a group of fellow actors. "The first child I had died."

According to the actor, the child was critically ill and needed urgent care. Without the means to pay for her treatment, Chatta set out on foot, determined to find help. He recounted walking tirelessly through neighborhoods in Lagos—from Ijora Badia through Orile, Itolo, Shitta, Lawanson, Stadium, and Costain railway, all the way to Makoko—searching for anyone who could lend a hand. But help never came.

“I couldn’t get any money until the child died,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

The tragedy didn’t end there. With no funds for a proper burial, Chatta was forced to lay his daughter to rest in a wooden Coca-Cola crate—an image that still haunts him.

“We buried her in a crate of Coke—the old wooden ones we used to have back then,” he recalled.

Years later, the grief of that moment remains with him. But so does a deeper appreciation for fatherhood. Chatta spoke with tenderness about his only daughter, Awawu, named after his late mother.

“When I travelled to Dubai and bought a diamond anklet for Awawu, her mother got upset. She said I should’ve bought it for her instead. But I told her, ‘This is my only daughter. I had one before, and she died.’”

He continued, “They all started crying. I was in the kitchen cooking when I told the story. No one had heard it before.”

Now a father of three, Chatta says he still hopes to have more children. But Awawu, to him, remains irreplaceable.

“She was born after my mother passed away, so I named her after her. I call her my mother. There’s nothing she wants that I won’t give her.”

Chatta’s story is not just one of loss—it is a poignant reminder of the harsh realities many Nigerians face, and the deep scars poverty can leave behind.