Everyone Spoke to Him, But No One Listened

Let's call this gentleman Tunde. (Apologies to anyone who bears that name.) At 18, he lost his father, his best friend. For a year, he carried his grief in silence. His siblings and mother could not understand him, dismissing what they called his "behaviour." In a crowded home, he was still lonely. No one heard the message hidden in his silence. Tunde's family was of modest means, just above the poverty line. In his search for comfort, he turned to a coping mechanism: substance use.

By 19, he was no longer the same boy. His family thought he had simply become stubborn: staying out late, keeping the wrong company, clashing with the police, and eventually dropping out of school. What they could not see was that this was not rebellion, but pain speaking.

He turned to religion, talking endlessly about God's love. Sometimes he preached to statues, believing man was made in that image. He began calling himself "Jesus' Assistant." His mother thought this was a divine calling. When his hygiene deteriorated, she assumed he was too "busy with God's work" and hired a carer for him.

Then came another turn. He accused his mother of inserting tissue paper into his brain at night. He saw snakes in her hair. He even attempted self-surgery to remove the "tissue." Instead of recognising his suffering, his family condemned him as obstinate. Everyone spoke, but no one listened.

He found another outlet in art, painting murals with his own blood. Alarmed, his family took him to a religious house for "deliverance," where he was flogged in the name of exorcism. But when he returned home, he struck his mother with a knife, trying to kill the "snakes" he saw in her hair.

It was only then the family realised what they should have long ago: their son was not possessed. He was not a criminal. He was living with a mental illness. By then, it was too late. Their mother had already lost her life.

This is not a fiction. Tunde's brother shared this story during one of our consultation sessions in a private mental health hospital in Lagos. All the agonies of his life were captured in a single statement: "Everyone spoke to Tunde, but no one listened." In my years as a mental health nurse in Nigeria, I have witnessed far too many similar stories, often even more tragic among families with low income, who cannot afford mental health care.

This is why I founded Safemind Foundation in April 2025 to create a space where Nigerians, and people everywhere, can talk openly about their mental health and struggles. A space where, unlike Tunde, whose pain was met with advice and admonition but never with listening, people can finally be heard.

Our vision is simple: to build a community where anyone, no matter how remote their location, can speak about their mental health and receive full support without fear of stigma.