“I’m Still Here Because of Family” — Nigerians Talk About the Mental Health Toll of Financial Hardship

Trigger warning: Suicide.
Mental health struggles are complex, and for many Nigerians, the country’s financial state worsens their mental health.Here are five Nigerians who suffered severe mental health crises due to financial pressure and the poor state of the economy, and what thankfully made them choose to stay.
I’ve always had financial anxiety. Even when I was steadily earning ₦200k/month, the state of the country would make me panic about how much I had and if it would be enough to keep me alive.
Then I lost my steady job earlier this year when the company I worked for pulled out of the country. So now I’m a freelance makeup artist, earning ₦100k-₦200k per job. Technically, I can potentially earn more now, but my income is unstable, and I only get one or two makeup jobs a month. So, the way I see it, I’m basically jobless.
I have to think about my ₦1.2 million/year rent, amongst other expenses. Because of this, I isolate myself, afraid that if I go out with friends, I’m wasting money.
Sometimes, my anxiety gets so bad that I have depressive episodes and nervous breakdowns. I panic, wondering when I’ll next get a makeup gig. I passively consider ending my life. After all, dead people don’t pay bills, right?
I’m still here because of my friends. They send me money sometimes and always encourage me. Plus, when I do get a gig, my anxiety temporarily goes away.
My father died of cancer two years ago. Even though we all saw it coming, the grief was overwhelming.
At his funeral, an aunt whispered to me, “You know you’re now the provider of the family?” It was the first time I had a panic attack.
Even though my mum’s business is still bringing in a good amount of money, she’s getting old, and I worry every day about providing for her and my sisters. I earn well at ₦600k a month, and I still live at home, but the pressure to be the man of the house is crushing, especially because I’m still grieving my dad.
I’ve considered ending my life a few times, just in passing, so I can escape the anxiety. But the thought of my little sisters living without me is even more terrifying, and I’m too scared to go through with it.
I left my oppressive parents’ house in 2025. They’ve never been supportive and are the most closed-minded people I’ve ever met. I was already considering suicide under their roof, so my options were either to kill myself, steal their money and leave, or run away and thug it out. I chose the last one.
I live alone now, and it’s difficult to provide for myself. The abuse I endured already made me suicidal, but now, I have times when I spiral really hard and get close to the act. The worst thing for me is struggling so hard for money just to live a pointless life and eventually die.
The main thing keeping me alive is spite. I want to prove to my parents that I’m better off without them and prove to life that I can do this. It also helps that I have god-tier friends.
I moved out of my house earlier this year because my father was abusing me and trying to control my finances. The switch from being taken care of materially to barely being able to eat was terrifying.
At first, I felt very useless. It was hard to feel trapped in my own life, so much so that I could barely afford a crate of eggs. I thought ending my life was better than waiting for Nigeria to end it for me, and I was stuck in this headspace for at least three months.
I never thought of giving myself grace. I was doing my best, working multiple freelance gigs and living frugally, but I blamed my money struggles on not working hard enough, rather than the insane cost of living in Nigeria.
One day, I had to decide that I would not die simply because I didn’t have the financial freedom I had envisioned for myself as an adult. Also, I now know that life isn’t just happening to me; I have the power to shape my story. Plus, my friends have come through for me a lot.
In 2020, right after I got married, COVID made my husband lose his job. He was a businessman, but the lockdown made it difficult for him to transport goods and the like. As a teacher earning ₦210k/month, I wasn’t making enough to sustain us. It was a major hit to our finances. It didn’t help that we were in a lockdown and could do nothing but worry.
My husband became miserable. I’d never seen that man cry so much. I was always the emotional one, so having my rock break down that way broke me as well.
I would wake up, and my first thought would be to end my life so that my husband could have one less expense to worry about.
I knew these were bad thoughts, so my husband and I began praying every night. It helped to know God was still on the throne.
Eventually, the lockdown lifted, and my husband could continue his business as smoothly as before. I thank God for watching over us at that time.
Mentally Aware Nigeria Initiative (MANI) — Youth-focused mental health support.
mentallyaware.org | Crisis support: +234 916 841 7413
Blueroomcare — Affordable online therapy.
Blueroomcare.com | +234 901 667 9754
SURPIN — Suicide prevention & crisis intervention.
surpinng.com | 080 0078 7746
READ NEXT: “I Wish I Had Done More”: Nigerians On Losing Loved Ones To Mental Health Struggles
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