Mental health care in Nigeria is often marred by stigma, cultural misconceptions, and a lack of empathy from medical staff. These barriers make it difficult for individuals, especially young people, to open up about their struggles or seek help. Despite the growing conversation around mental health, many still face mistreatment within the healthcare system, which only deepens their sense of isolation. For Wole, a university student, one overwhelming evening of stress led him into a system that left him feeling more alone than ever.
Wole, a final-year university student, had always been diligent about his studies. But the weight of academic pressure finally caught up with him during exam season. After spending days trying to keep up with the relentless workload, the fear of failure gnawed at him. One evening, everything became too much to bear. In a moment of panic, he made the impulsive decision to slit his wrists. As the reality of what he’d done sank in, Wole feared infection more than anything else. Despite the mental anguish, he didn’t want to risk his health deteriorating, so he decided to visit the campus clinic the following morning to have the wounds dressed.
The Clinic Visit
When he arrived at the clinic, the staff immediately noticed the nature of Wole’s injuries. It didn’t take long for them to piece together that this was no accident. Concerned, but perhaps more judgmental than empathetic, they escalated the situation to other staff members. Within an hour, Wole found himself being transferred to the psychiatric unit, something he hadn’t anticipated when he walked in for a simple wound dressing.
Once he arrived at the unit, the atmosphere shifted. What should have been a supportive environment quickly became one of interrogation. The medical staff demanded that Wole explain what had happened. Feeling cornered, Wole tried to maintain his composure, but when they threatened to inform his parents, his anxiety skyrocketed.
“I felt like they were treating me as though I’d done something shameful, something to be used against me,” Wole later reflected. The staff’s tone was harsh and condescending, insinuating that he had committed some sort of abomination by harming himself. His pleas for privacy, for a little time to gather his thoughts, were dismissed. “I didn’t want to worry my parents just yet. I wanted to handle things on my own,” he explained, but they didn’t listen.
In an attempt to prevent them from calling his family, Wole reached for his phone. The response was swift and aggressive. One of the nurses yelled at him, and the threat of physical assault hung in the air. It became clear that this wasn’t a space where he could seek help on his own terms.
The Psychiatric Ward
Over the next two days, Wole was kept in the psychiatric ward, pressured to comply with the doctors’ demands. Despite his refusal, they forced him into conversations with a psychiatrist. He didn’t want to open up, not under these circumstances, but the staff’s persistence left him with little choice.
“I felt violated,” Wole recounted. “It wasn’t about getting better. It was about control. They wanted me to submit, and I had no say in the matter.” Wole’s stay in the ward only deepened his sense of isolation. The place where he had hoped to find a path toward healing became another source of trauma.
The Aftermath
Wole left the psychiatric unit feeling more broken than when he had entered. The experience left him questioning not only the state of mental healthcare in Nigeria but also the possibility of ever finding help in such a system. He returned to his dorm room, physically healed but emotionally wounded.
“I wish I could say that experience gave me hope, but it didn’t,” Wole admitted. “It made me feel like there’s no safe space to talk about these things. I just wanted to be treated like a person who was struggling, not like a criminal or a disgrace.”
His story is a harsh reminder that the Nigerian healthcare system still has a long way to go in treating mental health with the compassion it deserves. While Wole’s wounds may have healed, the scars left by his experience will take far longer to fade. He remains hesitant to reach out for help again, knowing that what awaits may be more harm than healing.
