Dealing with mental illness the Nigerian way

In Nigeria, it’s still generally OK to call a mentallyill person a madman or mad woman. But don’t be quick to condemn, given our position as one of the world’s most conducive nations for political incorrectness. Also remember that we mean no harm, or disrespect to the person suffering from one mental illness or the other. The simple fact is, many Nigerians don’t even believe in things like schizophrenia, or the slew of manias that exist and plague helpless sufferers, much less a condition like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Unless you chalk it all up to ‘evil spirits’, the ever-general ‘Village People’, witches and wizards, or ‘jazz’ from a wicked stepmother, in-law, or business rival. If in doubt, watch any Nollywood offering from the past decade.

The amount of superstition surrounding mental illness – and many other things (story for another day) – is thick and deep, much like manure. And it stinks just as bad. The recent tragedy in Kano, where a housewife said to have been suffering from hallucinations and some sort of mania, attacked and killed her own children, is a sterling example. She actually, as the story went, raised red flags on her own, but it was all blamed on, you guessed right, jinn. I look forward to updates on that story, with a view to seeing how the case will be handled legally, as well as medically.

Mental illness is diagnosable and treatable, thanks to leaps and bounds in breakthroughs within that part of medicine. But the average Nigerian would rather blame it on the aforementioned phantom causes, because it is simpler and more convenient, and would mean one wouldn’t have to confront the harsh realities that come with one’s loved one suffering from something like mental illness. It is, sadly, a variant of the faulty logic of ‘disease no dey kill Black man’, which someone with even a modicum of common sense would agree is inane.

As you may know, PTSD is a mental health condition that’s triggered by a terrifying event, either by experiencing it or witnessing it. It causes flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event. God knows I’ve always been very aware of PTSD, even before my own nasty encounter with armed bandits one fateful evening in Kaduna. That’s not to mention other forms of the affliction arising from doing even some of the most mundane things, like driving on Abuja roads, or trying to talk to someone who cut into a queue you have been waiting on for hours. The honest truth is, just being Nigerian itself comes with a form of PTSD, as every single #EndSARS protester will tell you, especially after being assaulted or shot at by officers meant to serve and protect them. And those are even the ones alive to tell the tale.

I would be remiss to talk about PTSD and not mention military personnel. For a while in the past, I followed closely the way soldiers who fought in the North-East were treated upon return, before reintegration into society. Having overstayed while fighting Boko Haram in extremely harsh conditions, they would often come home to families carrying a huge load of PTSD. But today I’m happy that, more and more, attention is being paid to the mental well-being of servicemen and women in all the three arms of service. Whether it is up to optimal levels, is another matter entirely.

One of these days, I intend to carry out similar checks on the Nigeria Police Force on the same issue, because our currently-infamous cops also often go through hell on the job. Or even give hapless, innocent civilians hell, on the same job too. In other words, they need to have their heads checked regularly, for their own good, and that of others.

World Mental Health Day was exactly a week ago today, and data of course poured in. Like the bit from the World Health Organisation ( WHO), that says one in four Nigerians are suffering from some sort of mental illness or the other. I’d say do the math, but I think even arithmetic would show the imbalance.

But let’s move away from the anecdotal, to the specific and scientific. Like the tragic fact that our country has Africa’s highest caseload of depression, while ranking 15th in the world in the frequency of suicide. There are about six psychiatric centres in Lagos, but the crowd that overburdens those facilities is massive, leaving the small handful of doctors and specialists overburdened. Though by Nigerian standards, that’s impressive because of how abysmally that sector stands regarding adequacy of trained professionals and functional infrastructure.

I have more sad stats, in turn shocking and sad. There aren’t up to 150 psychiatrists in Nigeria, as much of a ‘Giant of Africa’ we claim to be. And even this small number of professionals remains overburdened and underpaid, with many of our doctors opting to borrow a leaf from Andrew and ‘checking out’ for greener pastures like Canada, the UK, and the rest, leaving us to wallow in mental ill-health. It’s enough to, well, drive one insane.

As I wrap this piece up, a sly grin creeps up on my face, and I’ll share the reason with you. Do you remember the joke about an ex-first lady who, while speaking about suicide bombers said in impeccable Pidgin English that she would rather kill herself than commit suicide? Whether that was funny or not, the serious fact remains that we need to take mental illness seriously in Nigeria. We’d be crazy not to.