In Nigeria, grief is a deeply misunderstood experience. We often hear well-meaning but dismissive phrases like “Be strong,” “Don’t cry too much,” or “God gives and God takes.” These words, while wrapped in religious or cultural wisdom, often silence the raw emotional pain that mourners genuinely feel. The result is a society where grief is swept under the carpet ignored, invalidated, and left to fester.

But grief that is not spoken does not disappear. It becomes a silent intruder in everyday life, showing up in ways we often fail to recognise. Unresolved grief is a serious mental health concern. Studies in bereavement psychology, including findings in The American Journal of Psychiatry, link unprocessed grief to a wide range of emotional and physical disorders. Depression, anxiety, substance abuse, chronic insomnia, and psychosomatic illnesses such as persistent headaches or ulcers are just a few of the long-term consequences. In some cases, individuals may suffer from Complicated Grief Disorder a prolonged and debilitating form of mourning that lingers for years, often unnoticed and untreated.

The Nigerian context makes this crisis even more alarming. According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), Nigeria has one of the highest rates of depression in Africa, with over 7 million Nigerians currently living with depressive disorders. Despite this, mental health remains heavily stigmatised. Many communities still see emotional expression as weakness, particularly when it comes to grief. The expectation to “move on” quickly after a loss is especially harsh on widows, men, and professionals, who are frequently urged to show resilience even when they are mentally unravelling. The cultural narrative that grieving should be brief, quiet, and dignified leaves many carrying the weight of unshed tears and unresolved trauma.

This silencing of grief takes a dangerous toll on everyday Nigerians. Consider the man who returns to work just three days after burying his father, not because he feels ready, but because he must “man up” and take on the responsibilities left behind. Inside, he is barely functioning, emotionally numb and consumed by suppressed rage. Or the widow who is instructed to be strong for her children during her husband’s burial. She swallows her pain for their sake, only to develop panic attacks and chronic insomnia a few months later. Then there’s the teenager who loses her best friend in a road accident. When she breaks down, her mother scolds her with, “You’re not the first to lose someone.” Two years later, the girl begins self-harming and misusing cough syrup laced with codeine.

These are not hypothetical stories they are real and recurring in our communities. As mental health professionals and advocates, we encounter such cases frequently. They reflect how culturally sanctioned silence around grief feeds emotional repression and long-term mental illness. The pressure to remain composed in public while falling apart in private is an emotional time bomb. Anger, bitterness, spiritual confusion, relational dysfunction, and health complications are common consequences. Many people experience unexplained physical ailments ulcers, migraines, high blood pressure without realizing these may be grief manifesting through the body.

What Nigeria needs is a cultural shift a move away from shaming mourners into silence and toward embracing grief as a valid, necessary part of human experience. We must begin to normalize conversations around loss and sorrow, both in private homes and public institutions. Religious leaders, healthcare providers, and educators must be taught that grief is not a weakness, but an expression of love, trauma, and emotional truth.

It is also time we stopped defining what “proper mourning” should look like. People grieve differently. Some cry loudly; others remain silent. Some find healing in prayer, others in therapy, music, or writing. No one should be told they are grieving the “wrong” way. Instead, we must create safe spaces for people to process their emotions without fear of judgment or spiritual condemnation.

Mental health support should also be more accessible. Grief counselling must be integrated into our healthcare system, especially at the primary care level. Community-based grief support groups, trauma-informed religious programs, and grief literacy campaigns can help reduce the stigma and provide comfort to those silently suffering.

As someone who has repurposed pain into purpose, I often find myself asking: How many more people are drowning in quiet agony because our culture has denied them the right to grieve? The truth is, grief is not the enemy denying grief is. You do not have to mourn the way society expects. You only have to mourn truthfully. That is enough. For those currently grieving, know this: your emotions are valid. Your process is personal. And your healing deserves space, not silence. At Dazzling Grit, we are committed to walking this journey with you offering professional counseling, support groups, and a non-judgmental community where your grief is not a burden, but a shared human story. Let us begin to change the narrative.