On a quiet evening in her Abuja hotel, Joy Adeboye, 23, sits on her bed clutching her phone, her mind racing and chest tightening. On her screen is yet another abusive message from her stalker – a man she had met nine months earlier at her church.

He had asked Adeboye out; when she declined, he began sending her intimidating, insulting and blackmailing messages on social media, as well as spreading false information about her online. There were even death threats.

The experience is taking its toll on her mental health, leaving her struggling to cope. Family and friends she confided in did not take it seriously, and she cannot afford in-person therapy or counselling. As the feeling of panic rose at the sight of his words, she turns to an alternative: a WhatsApp chatbot called Chat Kemi.

“Good evening, Resilient Joy,” the bot types. “How are you today?”
Adeboye hesitates, then starts typing: “Someone is defaming me online and threatening to kill me, because I refused to date him. I am depressed and confused. What should I do?”

The chatbot, which Adeboye had heard about at an event on gender-based violence run by an NGO, advises her to deactivate her social media accounts and provide all necessary information about the person making the threats to someone she trusts.

For the first time in months, Adeboye says, she felt less alone.

AI platforms offering first-line mental health support have proliferated over the past year, with early trials in the US showing mixed results. In Nigeria, where AI has been embraced in many sectors and industries, a growing number of people turn to chatbots for virtual therapy.

Nigeria’s health system, including its mental health provision, has long been underfunded. Between 2015 and 2025, Nigeria has consistently spent less than 5% of its budget to healthcare, with 4.2% allocated for 2026, far less than the 15% target that African Union member states agreed to as part of the 2001 Abuja Declaration. It is not known how many people in Nigeria live with mental health conditions but, with only 262 psychiatrists in a country of 240 million people, most do not get adequate treatment.

The shortages have been exacerbated by the Trump administration dismantling USAID, which has badly hit services in Nigeria, especially at the primary level, having a devastating effect on patients in communities already struggling with HIV/Aids, tuberculosis and other health challenges. More than 90% of Nigerians have no health insurance, and now face uncertainty over access to services and feelings of helplessness over rising costs.

Private healthcare is expensive; one therapy session can cost between 50,000 naira (£27) – the equivalent of a week’s worth of groceries. Cultural stigma remains strong; many Nigerians still associate mental illness with spiritual weakness or witchcraft.

Commercial and nonprofit AI initiatives are starting to fill this vacuum. HerSafeSpace is an organisation that offers free and instant legal and emotional assistance to victims of technology-facilitated gender-based violence in five west and central African countries. Its Chat Kemi service is available in local and international languages.

“These services don’t replace therapy,” says its founder, Abideen Olasupo. Instead, the chatbot uses a referral system to direct users and specific cases to mental health, legal or psychosocial professionals or organisations, should the need arise.

“Our major objective is to support young girls, who are particularly vulnerable to gender-based violence, especially online,” he says.

Other platforms in Nigeria offering similar services include FriendnPal, whose AI chatbot provides emotional support, matches patients with licensed therapists and includes mood tracking, psycho-education and ASMR tools to alleviate stress and anxiety.

Its pay-as-you-go model gives users instant access to tailored therapy sessions that can include homework or assessments, according to Esther Eruchie, who created the service in response to the loss of her mother after years of depression caused by her 20-year-old brother’s death.

Another platform, Blueroomcare, connects clients with licensed therapists through video, voice, text and in-app messaging. It offers in-person outpatient and virtual care at partner clinics nationwide, includes a free wellness assessment, and charges between 5,000 and 51,000 naira for a therapist subscription plan.

“Therapy was often too expensive, and there weren’t enough professionals to meet the demand,” says Moses Aiyenuro, who founded Blueroomcare after his own struggles with depression. “I wanted to build a platform that lowers the barriers to care.”

The technology used by these apps follows scripts written by licensed Nigerian psychologists and therapists who deliver care to users.

In Lagos, Oluwakemi Oluwakayode, a mother of four, started using FriendnPal’s chatbot after watching her eight-year-old daughter endure frequent seizures due to cerebral palsy.

“Sometimes, it gave very standard replies,” she admits. “But I could finally say things I couldn’t share with my family. That alone gave me relief.”

Later, the app connected her with a licensed therapist – something she says she would never have considered without AI easing her into it.

Dr Joy Aifuobhokhan, a Lagos-based public health doctor, says these platforms’ advantage is that they are more affordable and efficient than conventional therapy. “Digital platforms save time otherwise spent preparing, commuting and waiting [to be seen] at physical consultation centres,” she says.

But some experts caution that AI cannot provide the same level of expertise as a qualified therapist. “These platforms borrow from clinical methods like CBT [cognitive behavioural therapy] and mindfulness,” says Dr Nihinlola Olowe, a psychologist at Live Still Counselling Services, a Nigerian-based mental health practice.

“They can be useful for coping, but they cannot replace the depth or judgment of professional care.”

Eruchie says FriendnPal has run more than 10,000 sessions in the past year, while Olasupo says HerSafeSpace has 1,600 users across three continents. Blueroomcare declined to say how many users it had.

But measuring the impact based on numbers alone is a challenge. “The real story lies in the engagement,” says Olasupo. “It’s exciting to see that users aren’t just using the app and leaving – they’re coming back again and again.”

For many patients, the immediacy and anonymity of a chatbot is key to its appeal but the ease of digital care could come at the cost of privacy. Avril Eyewu-Edero, a cybersecurity expert, believes that without introducing strong database protections in Nigeria, sensitive information – such as medical histories – becomes vulnerable the moment it enters an AI system.

“If startups fail to prioritise privacy and encryption from the outset, adoption will stall. Nigerians are eager but wary,” she says.

Founders of the services acknowledge these uncertainties, often highlighting their use of end-to-end encryption, unique codes that identify users or devices without including personally identifiable information, and strict non-sharing policies – even with government authorities, unless compelled by a court order.

Now, medical professionals are calling on the Nigerian government to develop enforceable national standards for AI. Dr Alero Roberts, a public health consultant and lecturer at the University of Lagos’s medical college, says: “AI chatbots for mental health are an innovative solution, but without robust regulation, we are venturing blindly into potentially dangerous territory.

“Robots can’t interpret human emotion as humans do. For people in crisis, like suicidal thoughts or psychosis, human contact is crucial. Someone, even a non-professional, can recognise the need for urgent intervention,” she says. “This is often lost with AI; strong governance is essential.”

Unlike medicines or hospitals, AI mental health platforms operate in a regulatory grey zone. Nigeria’s 2023 Data Protection Act sets baseline privacy standards but lacks specific AI regulations for healthcare.

“The main issue is enforcement, not a lack of laws,” says Ayotunde Abiodun of SBM Intelligence, a thinktank that provides analysis on political, economic and social issues in Nigeria and across west Africa.

Babatunde Bamigboye, head of regulations at the Nigeria Data Protection Commission, a statutory body set up under the 2023 law, says: “Any use involving personal data must comply with the act. The framework focuses on data ethics, testing within sandboxes, and risk mitigation. AI in Nigeria is governed, but not via AI-specific laws.”

In Lagos, Oluwakayode continues to use FriendnPal. One day, she hopes to afford in-person therapy, but for now, the bot is her companion.

“I know it’s not a real human,” she says. “But at 2am, it feels like someone is there for me. And that’s enough to keep me going.”