Nigeria hospitals add mental health care for malnourished children’s caregivers
Every day in the Médecins Sans Frontières nutrition facility in Maiduguri, Nigeria, the intensive care unit echoes with the cries of children suffering from severe acute malnutrition. This condition severely weakens their immune systems, leaving them vulnerable to secondary illnesses such as measles, malaria, or diphtheria. Recovery often requires weeks of treatment, during which caregivers—most commonly mothers—must stay at the hospital, cut off from their families and consumed by fear and uncertainty.
The emotional burden on these caregivers is rarely measured in malnutrition programs, yet it plays a direct role in a child’s recovery. Fatima Ibrahim spent three weeks at the facility with her 23-month-old daughter, Aisha, who had been hospitalized after complications from meningitis and convulsions. Though she celebrated her daughter’s progress, Fatima’s thoughts never strayed far from her eight other children at home. “I am so worried about my children. Yesterday my older daughter had fever, and her father did not have money for medication. Yesterday, I cried and had no appetite.”
Fatima’s experience highlights a systemic oversight: malnutrition treatment programs prioritize medical recovery but often overlook the psychological strain on caregivers. The combination of prolonged hospital stays, financial strain, and the constant fear of losing a child creates a heavy mental burden. Without targeted support, caregivers may struggle to adhere to medical instructions or maintain emotional engagement in their child’s recovery.
MSF adds mental health care to malnutrition treatment
To counter this, MSF has embedded mental health support into its malnutrition programs. At the Nilefa Kiji facility, caregivers receive psychological first aid upon admission, followed by both individual and group counseling sessions. Latifat Abdulkareem, whose seven-month-old daughter was treated for fever and vomiting, described the program’s impact: “My daughter started having headache, fever and a cough, and started vomiting. I felt terrible.
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For days I couldn’t sleep. I even thought my daughter would not make it. When I brought her here, the nurses calmed me down. The counsellors come to play with my daughter, and we also have group sessions. The counsellors are very kind.” These sessions help caregivers process their anxieties and develop coping strategies, while structured play activities restore a sense of normalcy for the children.
Beyond counseling, MSF offers practical assistance to ease the separation from families. When caregivers lose contact with relatives, counselors help arrange phone calls or supervised visits so parents can briefly check on their children at home. Halima Mohammed, who spent 45 days moving between hospitals with two critically ill children, admitted she now sleeps very little. “I was having good sleep before my children fell ill,” she says. “Now I barely sleep.
For the past two days, I have not been feeling well myself. I pleaded for my daughter’s discharge, and I assured them that I was not running away; that my daughter is now better, but they advised against self-discharge as my daughter was not yet in a stable condition.”
2025 data shows rising cases, deeper human toll
In 2025, MSF teams treated 425,634 children for acute malnutrition across northern Nigeria, a 41.8% increase compared to 2024. Yet behind these figures lie families like Fatima’s, where the battle against malnutrition extends far beyond weight restoration. It requires rebuilding the resilience of those who hold their children’s lives in their hands. For caregivers such as Latifat and Halima, the hospital transforms into more than a medical facility; it becomes a fragile sanctuary where hope is carefully reconstructed, one interaction at a time.
