Why Africans Don't Talk About Mental Health (And Why We Should)

The Three Words That Changed Everything

Ask any African how they're doing, and you'll get one of three responses:

• “I'm fine.”
• “By God's grace.”
• “We thank God.”

These aren't just answers—they're shields. We've become masters at deflecting the question nobody really wants answered honestly anyway.

But here's the thing: behind every “I'm fine” is someone who hasn't slept properly in weeks. Behind every “By God's grace” is someone carrying a weight they can't name. Behind every “We thank God” is someone who isn't sure what they're thankful for anymore.

Why We Stay Silent

Mental health stigma in Africa isn't accidental. It's cultural, historical, and deeply rooted. Here's what we're up against:

1. “It's a Spiritual Problem”

Depression? That's a demonic attack. Anxiety? You need deliverance. In many communities, mental health struggles are seen as spiritual warfare, not medical conditions. The solution? Prayer, fasting, and maybe some holy water.

Don't get us wrong—faith is powerful. But when it becomes the only prescription, people suffer in silence, waiting for a miracle while their minds break down.

2. “We Don't Have That Luxury”

Mental health feels like a rich people problem. When you're worried about rent, school fees, and where the next meal is coming from, “anxiety” sounds like a Western import.

“You're stressed? At least you have a job.”
“You're depressed? People have it worse.”

Comparison becomes the thief of compassion—even for ourselves.

3. “What Will People Say?”

The court of public opinion is undefeated in Africa. If word gets out that you're seeing a therapist? Your family name is finished. Your marriage prospects? Done. Your parents will never recover from the shame.

So we perform wellness while dying inside. We post “Living my best life” while barely surviving.

The Cost of Silence

Here's what silence has cost us:

• Nigeria has one of the highest rates of depression in Africa, yet less than 10% of those affected receive treatment.
• Ghana has approximately 3 psychiatrists per million people.
• Kenya reports that 1 in 4 people will experience mental health issues, but mental health receives less than 1% of the health budget.

The silence isn't protecting anyone. It's killing us slowly.

What If There Was Another Way?

What if healing didn't have to look like lying on a therapist's couch (that most of us can't afford anyway)?

What if it looked like:

• Laughing with strangers who understand your exact struggle
• Venting anonymously without fear of judgment
• Hearing someone else say “me too” and realizing you're not crazy—you're just human

That's why we built Nukoko.

Not as a replacement for therapy. Not as a medical solution. But as a community where humor is medicine, vulnerability is strength, and you can finally say what you've been holding in—without anyone knowing it's you.

The Permission You've Been Waiting For

If you've been struggling and couldn't tell anyone: we see you.

If you've been performing wellness while falling apart: we feel you.

If you've been waiting for permission to not be okay: here it is.

You don't have to be fine. You just have to be honest.

And maybe, just maybe, that honesty starts with a laugh.

Ready to turn your stress into laughter? Join a community that gets it.