The breaking point in Samuel Kiprono’s mental health came on a sweltering afternoon in Nairobi when he finally confessed his suicidal thoughts to the person he trusted most - his pastor.
But instead of compassion, he was met with fearful condemnation.
“He told me that I wasn’t depressed but demon-possessed. We prayed together and he gave me some scriptures to read that were helpful to some extent. Although his intentions were well-meaning, my depression persisted,” the 28-year-old accountant tells TRT Afrika.
His experience reflects the reality for millions of Africans struggling with mental health conditions.
‘Suffering in silence’
In sub-Saharan Africa, four out of five people with mental health conditions receive no treatment—a devastating gap that leaves families broken and lives shattered.
"My schizophrenia made me an outcast," admits 26-year-old Fatoumata Diallo, a nail technician in Dakar. "They called me 'the crazy woman' and hid me from visitors. The hospital just gave me pills—no therapy, no dignity."
Most mental health services in Africa are paid for directly by patients and their carers. For low-income households and other vulnerable groups, the cost of this essential care can cause financial hardship.
But the World Health Organisation (WHO) has thrown a lifeline to those suffering in silence, launching transformative new guidance to overhaul mental health care across the continent.
WHO guidance
The WHO’s new plan confronts these systemic failures directly, calling for urgent reforms. Launched on March 25, 2025, the plan demands an immediate end to abusive practices such as chaining patients and subjecting them to forced confinement.
Instead, the plan advocates for a shift toward compassionate, community-based care that replaces the era of outdated, isolating asylums.
Crucially, it also pushes for substantial investment in mental health workforces to ensure adequate staffing and training, as well as providing affordable treatment measures in low-income communities.
While the roadmap is clear, challenges remain.
Many African nations spend less than 1% of their health budgets on mental health. But Dr. Michelle Funk, the WHO’s mental health policy lead, insists progress is possible. "This isn’t about money alone—it’s about political will and smart reforms."
Paramount in the new plan is that survivors of mental health crises must have a central role in designing the very services meant to support them.
"What saved me wasn't just medication, but finally finding people who understood,” she says. “The social workers taught me I wasn't possessed or cursed—I was ill, and recovery was possible. Today I lead a support group to help others find their way back."
Humane treatment
Many mental health experts and other concerned professionals across Africa have welcomed the new WHO guidelines.
"For generations, we've treated mental illness as witchcraft or weakness. I’ve lost count of the number of patients I’ve treated that have been stigmatized because of this, " Dr. Amina Abubakar, a Lagos-based psychiatrist says. "This WHO guidance finally gives us the blueprint to build humane, effective systems that give patients hope, instead of shunning them."
Talking about mental health is no longer taboo in a world where it has emerged as a silent killer, afflicting millions navigating their way through the challenges of modern life, sometimes without those around them noticing the pain.
A new generation of faith leaders are also working to dismantle dangerous misconceptions about mental health. This shift comes as the WHO warns that Africa's mental health crisis is being worsened by well-meaning but misguided spiritual interventions.
Some faith-based organisations in Africa now partner with mental healthcare professions in helping those affected.
“Saving lives is the holiest work of all. As clergy, we must recognize when people need more than prayer,” Pastor Joseph Mugisha, who leads a church in Uganda tells TRT Afrika. “Healing can be both the medical and spiritual, but when someone says they want to die, that’s a medical emergency which should be treated as such.”
For survivors like Samuel, these changes arrived too late but give hope to others.
"Maybe now," he says quietly, "when someone says they're suffering, they'll get both prayers and proper help."
