Nigeria cannot credibly pursue suicide prevention while retaining laws that threaten people who survive suicide attempts with imprisonment. The contradiction is particularly difficult to defend when the country already has a National Mental Health Act, a National Mental Health Policy and a National Suicide Prevention Strategic Framework. The problem is no longer simply whether policymakers recognise the need for reform. It is whether they will align the law with that recognition and provide the resources required to save lives.
The figures make the urgency difficult to ignore. A systematic review published in 2026, which examined 53 Nigerian studies involving 132,514 participants, estimated that 7.9 per cent of the general population had experienced suicidal thoughts, 1.9 per cent had made plans to take their own lives and 1.3 per cent had attempted suicide. These estimates require careful interpretation because the studies differed in quality, coverage and methodology. They nevertheless provide an indication of the scale of a problem that remains inadequately documented in Nigeria.
The international picture is equally sobering. The World Health Organisation estimates that approximately 727,000 people died by suicide in 2021, making it one of the leading causes of premature death worldwide. It was the third leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 29, while 73 per cent of global suicide deaths occurred in low- and middle-income countries. For every adult who dies by suicide, the WHO indicates that there may be more than 20 others who attempt it. Suicide prevention is therefore an urgent public-health responsibility, with consequences extending far beyond the individual to families, workplaces and communities.
Against this background, the position expressed by Senate President Godswill Akpabio during the Senate debate on October 13 deserves scrutiny for its implications for public policy. While senators considered a bill seeking to decriminalise attempted suicide, Akpabio argued that the offence should remain punishable by imprisonment. His reported declaration that anyone who attempted suicide and survived should go to jail drew widespread criticism. A separate reported reference to religious ideas about virgins also attracted condemnation. Yet the controversy should lead to a more consequential examination of the law, the evidence behind it and the capacity of the state to prevent suicide.
The central question is straightforward: what public benefit does imprisonment offer a person who has survived a suicide attempt? Under Section 327 of the Criminal Code Act, attempted suicide attracts a possible prison term of up to one year. Section 231 of the Penal Code similarly provides for punishment, although the precise applicable provisions vary across jurisdictions. These provisions reflect a punitive approach inherited from an earlier legal tradition, even as contemporary mental-health policy increasingly recognises suicidal behaviour as a matter requiring prevention, assessment and care.
The National Mental Health Act, signed in December 2022, provides a rights-based foundation for mental healthcare and recognises psychiatric emergencies, including attempted suicide, as requiring intervention. Nigeria has also adopted a National Mental Health Policy and a National Suicide Prevention Strategic Framework covering 2023 to 2030. The continued criminalisation of attempted suicide sits uneasily alongside these commitments. A person in acute distress may require immediate medical attention, yet the threat of prosecution can introduce fear into the very process through which help should be sought.
Criminalisation can also undermine the collection of reliable information. Where survivors and their families fear arrest, they may be reluctant to report incidents or cooperate with health professionals. That silence deprives authorities of information needed to identify patterns, assess risk and design appropriate interventions. It can also reinforce the stigma that surrounds mental illness and makes people less willing to disclose their distress. The consequences extend to families, who may find themselves trying to manage a crisis privately because they fear the legal and social repercussions of seeking assistance.
Akpabio’s concern that decriminalisation could encourage suicide should be examined through evidence rather than assumption. The removal of criminal penalties does not amount to approval of suicide, nor does it remove the state’s responsibility to protect life. It changes the basis on which the state responds to a person in crisis. Instead of adding the threat of punishment, the response can prioritise immediate assessment, treatment, rehabilitation and follow-up support. The relevant test is whether the policy reduces harm and improves access to help. The Senate should require evidence on the deterrent effect of criminal penalties and compare it with the documented risks associated with stigma and barriers to care.
There is already a basis for moving in this direction. In September 2026, the Federal Ministry of Health and Social Welfare announced that the Federal Executive Council had approved the government’s position on decriminalising attempted suicide, paving the way for the necessary legislative process. The Senate’s current deliberations therefore form part of a wider effort to bring the law into line with the government’s stated public-health approach. The executive and legislature must now work towards a coherent reform rather than allow competing interpretations of the issue to obstruct progress.
However, decriminalisation alone will not resolve Nigeria’s suicide-prevention challenge. A change in the law must be accompanied by a health system capable of responding to people in distress. The WHO’s African regional office has reported that fewer than three per cent of people with mental-health conditions in Nigeria are covered by health insurance. This points to a serious access problem, particularly for people who cannot afford private consultations, medication or continuing treatment.
The government must therefore make mental-health services more accessible through primary healthcare centres, general hospitals and community-based programmes. Frontline health workers need appropriate training to identify warning signs, respond to emergencies and refer patients for further care. Schools and workplaces should have clear procedures for supporting people in distress, while families and community organisations need reliable information about where to seek assistance. Crisis-response services must be adequately staffed and accessible, and people who survive suicide attempts should receive continuing support rather than be left to navigate recovery alone.
Funding and accountability will determine whether these commitments produce results. Nigeria’s National Suicide Prevention Strategic Framework already provides a policy basis for coordinated action. What matters now is implementation, with clear responsibilities, measurable targets and transparent reporting. The Federal Government and state governments should establish how much they are committing to prevention, how services will be distributed and how progress will be assessed. They should also strengthen the collection of suicide and attempted-suicide data, with appropriate safeguards for confidentiality. Without reliable information, adequate financing and clear lines of responsibility, national strategies risk remaining statements of intent.
The Senate committees considering the bill should use the legislative process to resolve the legal inconsistencies, consult mental-health professionals and people with lived experience, and establish a practical framework for treatment and rehabilitation. They must also consider how the proposed changes will operate across Nigeria’s different legal jurisdictions. Public hearings should examine the evidence on criminalisation, the availability of mental-health services and the resources required to make prevention effective. These are substantive questions deserving careful deliberation, rather than a contest of rhetoric.
Public officials also have a responsibility to discuss suicide with the seriousness it demands. Religious beliefs and personal convictions may inform individual perspectives, but legislation affecting people in psychological distress must be grounded in evidence, human dignity and the public interest. Akpabio’s subsequent caution against interpreting individual contributions as the Senate’s final position should be distinguished from the formal legislative outcome. The bill has passed second reading, and its eventual provisions remain subject to further consideration. The immediate task is to ensure that the controversy does not eclipse the reform itself.
Nigeria has already acknowledged the need for a national approach to suicide prevention. It must now make that commitment meaningful. A person who survives a suicide attempt should be able to seek help without fearing imprisonment, stigma or abandonment. The law should facilitate that access, while government must provide the services and resources necessary for recovery. The measure of the Senate’s work will be whether it helps prevent avoidable deaths and enables people in crisis to receive care when they need it most. Suicide prevention is a matter of public responsibility, and the lives at stake demand more than words.
