It’s been 65 years of independence. Congratulations, Nigeria, and happy Independence! Welcome also to the last quarter of the year, a brand new month of October.
But genuinely, can we say we have come a long way and done so well as a nation in these 65 years? Or are we still trapped in a vicious cycle? Do we even truly believe in this country anymore? How has this shaped our mental health and the way we see ourselves as citizens?
Haven’t many of us lost hope? Are we supposed to lose hope, or are we just fixated on the thought that it can never be better? Worse still, some believe it can only get worse or is already getting worse despite the visible changes here and there, despite the rays of hope that occasionally break through.
So, are we free indeed?
True freedom is not just about flags, anthems, or parades. It is about the state of mind of the people. When a nation struggles with poverty, insecurity, corruption, and dashed expectations, the citizens carry the weight in their hearts and minds. This weight shows up as anxiety, frustration, hopelessness, and even depression. We cannot separate the mental health of Nigerians from the story of Nigeria itself.
Many people now live with a quiet despair, believing that nothing good can come out of this country. Some carry a deep mistrust of leadership, others feel numb and detached, while many more have simply resigned to fate. This collective sense of hopelessness is not just political, it is psychological. When hope dies, it leaves scars on our well-being, our relationships, and even the way we dream for our children.
Yet, hope is not a luxury; it is a necessity. Just as the human body cannot survive without oxygen, the mind cannot thrive without hope. Hope is the anchor that steadies us when the storm is raging. It is the fuel that makes us rise each morning and believe tomorrow could be better. Without it, our resilience weakens, and we risk living in survival mode, never truly alive.
But here lies the irony: Nigerians are some of the most resilient people in the world. We have learned to laugh in pain, to find joy in little things, and to hustle through tough times. Our music, our culture, our community spirit, these are coping mechanisms that keep us going when structures fail us. But even resilience has its breaking point. When every new policy, every new headline, and every new reality seems like a burden, resilience alone is not enough; we need genuine change that restores confidence in the future.
Mental health is not just an individual issue; it is a national one. A society where citizens wake up every day uncertain of safety, food, or dignity cannot boast of true independence. Independence must mean freedom from fear, freedom from hopelessness, and freedom from the mental chains that hold us down. When young people’s biggest dream is to ‘japa’ because they no longer see a future here, it should force us to reflect: what kind of independence do we truly have?
And yet, we must ask ourselves, can we, as a people, afford to give up? If hope is medicine, despair is poison. To surrender to despair is to let the challenges win twice: first, by creating hardship, and second, by killing the spirit to fight for something better.
So how do we begin to heal? How do we protect our mental health in a country that constantly tests it? We start by choosing hope, even when it feels foolish. We start by caring for ourselves and one another. We start by building little communities of support, families, faith groups, professional circles, and friendships, where encouragement and solidarity keep us afloat.
We also start by telling ourselves the truth: it is okay to feel tired, it is okay to feel worried, but it is not okay to give up completely. Healing begins when we name our struggles instead of masking them. Healing deepens when we seek help from mental health professionals rather than drowning silently in pain. Healing grows when we learn to find meaning in small victories and nurture gratitude for what is still working.
Independence at 65 should not just be a time to wave flags; it should be a time to ask, how free are we inside? Do we have freedom of mind, freedom to dream, and freedom to hope? If not, then our task as a nation is not only economic or political, it is also psychological.
This Mental Health Diary is a call to hold on to hope. Not a blind hope that ignores reality, but a stubborn hope that insists things can be better. For in protecting hope, we protect our minds. And in protecting our minds, we preserve the future of this nation.
So, as we step into this last quarter of the year, may we not just count the years of independence, but also count the strength of our resilience. May we nurture hope, support one another, and keep alive the belief that true freedom is still possible.
As we reflect on 65 years of independence, let us not remain stuck in despair. Healing begins with choosing to hope again, no matter the disappointments of the past. Even when the changes we long for seem slow, we must remember that change itself starts with individuals, each of us, in our homes, our communities, in the way we think, speak, and act. Whether we are in Nigeria or abroad, whether we hold other nationalities or not, nothing changes the fact that the blood is Nigerian.
The freedom we forget is not always about politics or economics. It is the freedom of the mind, the freedom to dream, and the freedom to hope. Without these, even at 65, true independence remains incomplete. To give up hope is to surrender our future, but to heal and hope again is to reclaim it.
Happy World Mental Health Day in advance! This Friday, October 10th, we join the world to mark this important day. Join me in next week’s episode, it promises to be another enlightening edition of Mental Health Diary. Stay with me.