JUNE is globally recognised as mental health month, with a special spotlight on men’s mental health awareness, a campaign aimed at dismantling the societal stigma that forces many men to suffer quietly rather than seek help.
In Nigeria, advocates, health workers, and ordinary families used the occasion to renew their push against one of the country’s most stubborn cultural silences, the expectation that men must endure pain without complaint.
The World Health Organization (WHO) has described the state of Nigerian men’s mental health as a severe public health crisis, noting that men disproportionately suffer from untreated depression and elevated suicide rates. At the heart of this crisis is a familiar cultural script, the pressure to be the breadwinner, and a deep-seated stigma that treats vulnerability as weakness.
For Daniel Balogun (not his real name), that script was his daily reality for nearly two years. The weight of the ‘Strong Man’. Daniel is a Director of Administration and General Services in a Local Government Area in Kwara State. A dedicated professional whose exceptional service has earned him respect within his community. Behind that composed, capable exterior, however, he was quietly unravelling.
As the eldest son, and the first in his family to rise to such a significant position, Daniel carried the full weight of expectation. He became the primary provider for his household, managing his aging parents’ needs, funding his younger brother’s education, and absorbing unforeseen medical expenses while holding down a demanding public office.
Fearing that any visible sign of struggle would be read as weakness, Daniel built an unshakeable facade. He was often the first to arrive at the office and the last to leave, channeling his anxiety into relentless work. On his days off, he turned to alcohol, telling himself it was simply a way to unwind, but it was not.
Daniel’s depression didn’t show as sadness. Instead, it came out as irritability, withdrawal, and tiredness, symptoms that looked like the normal stress of a busy job. For a long time, even those closest to him thought he was just busy, not realizing the deeper crisis he was going through.
The situation escalated until Daniel experienced a near-fatal breakdown, a moment that finally pushed him toward seeking professional help, with the support of his partner. His story is far from unique. It reflects a broader pattern among Nigerian men, many of whom are raised to prize stoicism and resilience above all else, often at the cost of honesty about their own vulnerability.
For Daniel, the shift began not with a solution, but with a conversation. His partner and a close friend intervened with compassion, gently creating space for him to confront what he had been hiding. The conversation did not fix anything immediately, but it broke the isolation he had endured for so long and dismantled his belief that asking for help was a form of failure.
That opening was enough. Daniel reached out to a licensed therapist and began a long, complex journey toward recovery.
Today, Daniel’s responsibilities have not disappeared.
His family still depends on him, and his job still demands much of him but his relationship with that pressure has changed. He has learned to recognise his own warning signs, establish boundaries, and communicate openly with the people he trusts.
His story is a reminder of what mental health month seeks to achieve in Nigeria, not the erasure of pressure, but permission for men like Daniel to admit they are struggling and to seek help without shame.
This reluctance to seek help is a pattern experts say is common among Nigerian men. Professor Martin I. Ifeanacho, Director of the Centre for Peace and Security Studies at the University of Port Harcourt, told Sunday Tribune that the root cause lies in deep-seated stigma.
“There is a deep culture of stigmatization attached to mental illness,” he said.
“In the past, nobody talked about mental hospitals, mental illness was treated as the sole responsibility of the person suffering from it. The moment people noticed deviant behavior, they attributed it to smoking weed or substance abuse, and that became the explanation for why the person was behaving that way.”
“There was also a traditional belief that mental ill health was caused by unknown spirits, you see this even in the Bible, with the swine that took control of a man. In metaphysical terms, we also believed that madness was caused by either what the person did, or by something their great-grandfathers did, coming back as a form of repercussion.”
“There was even a belief that if you tried to intervene, the spirit responsible would extend its repercussions to you for helping. So people kept their distance from any signs of mental illness.”
He noted that our understanding hasn’t progressed to the point where people see mental illness as simple as having malaria or any other sickness, something that deserves care and attention, not exploitation.
“We have even formed a habit of exploiting people suffering from mental illness for our own benefit, rounding them up, flogging them, forcing them to sing while we parade them and beg for money on their behalf. That isn’t concern for their wellbeing, it’s exploitation for profit.”
“We need a change of attitude, one that understands mental illness as just another form of illness, one that can come to anybody from causes outside religion or substance abuse. Even when we point to something like smoking weed, we should be asking, what socioeconomic situations pushed this person toward that behavior in the first place, and how do we help them.”
“Instead, we still believe some people don’t deserve proper care. Once someone is seen behaving abnormally, people pick up stones or cans and chase them away rather than build the institutions that could help them.”
On how masculinity culture affects emotional expression, Professor Ifeanacho explained that societal expectations condition men to suppress their feelings. “Masculinity is assumed to be associated with stoicism, men don’t cry, men don’t express emotions.
“So when something significant happens, men and women display their emotions completely differently. If there’s an accident, women will shout and cry openly, even if no one has died, they express themselves freely.”
“Men stay reserved, they grind their teeth or clap their legs, that’s their version of emotional expression. And even that, they try to hide from others. When they want to cry, they move away, cry quietly, clean up their eyes, and come back pretending to be brave again.”
“I think women handle this better, because expressing emotion is a way of releasing pressure that would otherwise build up and damage your system. Crying is allowed for them, it cleans the eyes and relieves the person. When someone shouts and people come to their aid, they get to share the problem, and everyone who hears it carries a small piece of it away. The burden doesn’t overwhelm the person alone.”
“So when a culture insists that men must always be brave, it pushes them toward mental illness, because mental illness often comes from emotions bottled up for too long. Eventually, those emotions have to come out one way or another. The problem is that we don’t recognize the early signals, and we don’t recognize the symptoms as they emerge.”
“It’s often only when someone is undressed and roaming the streets that we say, ‘this person has a mental problem.’ By then, it’s too late. We need to watch for the early warning signs instead.”
Professor Ifeanacho noted that families often conceal mental illness rather than seek help, viewing it as a disgrace that could jeopardise future marriage prospects, since many assume the condition runs in a family’s bloodline.
“But that is not accurate; economic and social factors can bring it about just as easily. So this culture of masculinity isn’t helping us. It makes men responsible for almost everything, while denying them permission to feel, even though they’re the ones telling everyone else not to cry, when they need to cry themselves.”
Turning to the warning signs of this silent struggle, Professor Ifeanacho said their visibility depends on the person’s environment, who is watching them, their family, and their social setting. However, he noted, the warning signs are always there.
“Withdrawal is the number one sign. When someone no longer values the company of the people around them, or when their presence starts to unsettle others. I always tell my colleagues, if students come to your office and make the sign of the cross before knocking, something is wrong with the person inside, you’re not expecting to see a masquerade. That fear itself is a signal.”
Sharing a personal story, Professor Ifeanacho said: “I remember a man in the village who came to me worried about his son. He showed me a letter the young man had written entirely in capital letters, and said, ‘This isn’t normal for someone who is well.”
“He was right, that boy was already on the path to mental disorientation. The company someone keeps matters too, peer groups or associations tied to substance abuse are a red flag. Once someone is hooked on a substance, they become willing to do almost anything to get it, and by that point they’re already halfway across the line into instability.”
“Behavioural changes at home are another sign, a father who used to joke and smile with his family, but now comes home and everyone is afraid, no one is smiling, nothing feels normal anymore. Something is wrong. Generally, the warning signs depend on a person’s role, their social setting, and what’s expected of them.”
“When someone can no longer meet the expectations attached to their position, it’s a signal that something is wrong. When these signs appear, counselling can help,” he stated, noting that genuine counselling helps people process past problems and refocus on the future. The problem, he said, is that everyone claims to be a counsellor these days, especially self-proclaimed men of God who counsel everybody.
“That’s not real counselling, real counselling requires professional training. It’s logical and scientific, not just ‘let us pray.’ And in most Nigerian communities, there isn’t a single trained mental health counsellor.
“We prepare for malaria, diabetes, high blood pressure, even conditions we haven’t encountered yet, traditional medicine has a presence everywhere, with all sorts of concoctions being offered. But nobody offers antidepressants, or people trained to help those suffering mentally.”
“Because we don’t provide real options, quacks fill that space and offer help to people in trouble, including those with genuine mental health conditions.”
On what advice he would give to Nigerian men, Professor Ifeanacho urged openness over silence. “If you need to cry, cry. It’s allowed, and it will help release the pressure building inside you. Don’t try to stay strong indefinitely, this can happen to anyone.”
“Get checked. At universities, for instance, staff are advised to undergo a comprehensive health check on their birthday, because early detection matters. But mental health is never part of that check. We check the liver, the kidneys, blood pressure, the prostate, we check everything except the mind. I don’t know why.”
“It is not a sign of weakness to recognise that what you are going through could affect your siblings and your family, and to seek help because of that. You shouldn’t be imposing your mood on everyone around you all day. If your children run and hide in their rooms when they see you coming, something is wrong, and you should get checked. There’s no shame in that.”
“Yes, a man should be a man, but a man can also suffer from mental illness. There’s no shame in that, and no stigma in seeking help. Just as anyone can have a stroke, this can happen to you too.” He advised.
Also speaking with the Sunday Tribune, Dr. Charles Adedamola Adeogun, a medical doctor and public health advocate, stated that millions of Nigerian men wake up every day wearing invisible masks.
“Behind those firm handshakes, stoic faces, and casual I’m fine replies lie stories of anxiety, depression, and emotional exhaustion that are rarely told and almost never understood.”
“For too long,” he continues , “the Nigerian man has been conditioned to believe that vulnerability is weakness. Society expects him to be the provider, the protector, and the pillar, but never the one in need of support. From a young age, he is told not to cry, to man up and to hide his fears behind a façade of strength. Over time, this emotional suppression becomes a heavy chain around his mind, one that often drags him quietly into despair.”
He noted that in a country where survival often takes precedence over wellbeing, men’s mental health has become an invisible epidemic. Many Nigerian men grapple with crippling anxiety about job insecurity, family responsibilities, and societal expectations, yet very few feel they have the permission or the safe space to talk about it.
“Mental health discussions in Nigeria still attract stigma. A man who admits he is struggling risks being seen as weak, possessed, or not man enough. In workplaces, emotional distress is dismissed as laziness or incompetence. In homes, wives and mothers may misunderstand it as a lack of effort. Even among friends, vulnerability is often met with uncomfortable silence or mockery.”
This culture of silence, according to him, is costing lives. “Unable to express pain in healthy ways, many men turn to alcohol, drugs, gambling, or other self-destructive outlets as coping mechanisms.”
“Substance abuse has become a quiet escape route for those who can no longer bear the weight of unspoken emotions. For others, bottled-up frustration manifests as aggression, emotional withdrawal, or risky behaviour that destroys relationships and careers.”
“Suicide, too, has become a tragic endpoint for some. Statistics show that men are significantly more likely to die by suicide, not because they are weaker, but because they are less likely to seek help. Behind many of these deaths are unresolved emotional battles, untreated depression, and an overwhelming sense of isolation.”
Dr. Adeogun advocated for building a support system. “We must begin to humanize mental health in Nigeria, especially for men.”
“Mental wellness should not be seen as a luxury, but as a foundation for a productive and balanced society. We cannot continue to tell men to be strong without teaching them that true strength includes the courage to seek help.”
“As a nation, we need to foster open conversations about mental health in homes, workplaces, schools, and faith communities. Employers should create safe channels for counselling and employee wellness. Religious leaders and community heads must learn to recognise the signs of emotional distress and offer compassion, not condemnation.”
“Professional mental health services, from psychologists to helplines, must be made more accessible, affordable, and culturally sensitive. Telemedicine and online counselling platforms now provide discreet options for those afraid of being seen walking into a therapist’s office. These innovations can bridge the gap between silence and healing.”
He then called for a reimagining of masculinity. “It is time to redefine what it means to be a man in Nigeria. Strength is not the absence of emotion; rather, it is the ability to face emotion with honesty and courage. Seeking help does not diminish masculinity, it affirms humanity.”
“Every Nigerian man deserves a chance to live with peace of mind, to love freely without fear of judgment, and to experience life beyond the mask of forced stoicism. The conversation starts when we listen, really listen to the unspoken pain around us.”
“Because behind every quiet smile could be a cry for help, and behind every strong man is a heart that needs understanding,” he stated, noting that “we need our men vibrant and healthy all-round to achieve wholesome masculinity and a stable family setting, which form the bedrock of a productive society and nation.
– VINCENT KURAUN
@ Nigerian Tribune
