Mental Health is Real — But Ghana Doesn’t Believe It

In Ghana, you can break a leg and everyone will rush to your aid.

But if your mind is breaking?

They'll tell you to "man up," or worse, "go and pray."

Mental illness is real — anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, PTSD — they exist. But in many homes across Accra, Kumasi, and Tamale, those words are still seen as Western fabrications. If you're not "mad and walking naked in the streets," then you're "fine." And that's the problem.

"I Felt Like I Was Drowning Every Day"

Ama, 27, from Cape Coast, battled depression after graduating from university with no job for three years.

"My chest was always tight, I couldn't eat, I cried for no reason… but anytime I spoke up, my aunt would say 'you're not the first person to be broke.'"

Eventually, she stopped speaking altogether. "They thought I was lazy — but I was dying inside."

The Stigma Starts at Home

We are trained to ignore mental pain.

Boys are told, "boys don't cry."

Girls are told, "You're being dramatic."

And the church — while powerful — sometimes confuses trauma with spiritual attacks.

We've seen pastors shout prayers over people with schizophrenia.

We've seen people chained to trees at "prayer camps" because their families didn't know what else to do.

"My uncle's son was taken to a shrine because he had manic episodes," Kwame, 34, tells us.

"They beat him for being 'possessed.' He came back worse. Now we whisper his name like he died."

No Access, No Awareness

Did you know?

Ghana has only about 50 psychiatrists for a population of over 30 million.

Only 3 psychiatric hospitals exist — all in the south.

In many districts, mental health units are underfunded, understaffed, or non-existent.

How can we treat what we don't even acknowledge?

Mental Illness Isn't Madness

You don't have to be screaming in the streets to need help.

Sometimes mental illness looks like isolation.

Like snapping at loved ones.

Like overworking yourself just to feel something.

Like laughing too loud to hide the sadness.

"I used to joke that I was always 'tired tired,'" says Selorm, a 31-year-old Uber driver in Accra.

"But deep down, I wasn't tired — I was depressed. I just didn't have the words."

So What Now?

We need to change how we talk about mental health — in homes, in schools, on the radio, and even in churches.

We need to normalize therapy — not mock it.

We need leaders who take it seriously — not just when celebrities die.

We need to stop asking, "Are you mad?"

And start asking, "Are you okay?"

Mental health is not a luxury. It's not a joke. It's not a trend. It's a right.

And until Ghana believes that — more of us will keep dying in silence.

This is Voices Unfiltered.

No shame. No filter. Just truth.