Ngozi is in her early thirties, married with a young child, and working in a demanding professional role. By all visible measures, she is responsible, capable, and dependable. Colleagues know her as efficient. Family members describe her as strong. Yet over the past few months, she has noticed a steady decline in her energy, focus, and motivation. Tasks that once felt manageable now feel heavy. Her sleep is irregular and unrefreshing. She feels tired most days, both physically and emotionally. Migraines come more frequently. At work, she finds herself distracted, scrolling through her phone longer than she intends, struggling to complete assignments with her usual sharpness.
She recently lost her brother unexpectedly. At first, she functioned. There were arrangements to make, family members to support, responsibilities to maintain. Life in Lagos does not slow down for grief. There is traffic to navigate, deadlines to meet, children to care for, and bills to pay. She returned to work believing that once the burial was over, normal life would resume. Instead, she feels as though something inside her has shifted. She is more anxious, especially when she cannot immediately reach family members. She feels emotionally flat on some days and overwhelmed on others. What confuses her most is that the intensity of her reaction seems to be increasing rather than fading.
Many people experience grief this way, although few talk about it openly. In a city that thrives on resilience and movement, emotional pain is often postponed. We tell ourselves to be strong, to focus on what must be done, to avoid “dwelling” on sadness. In the immediate aftermath of a loss, adrenaline and responsibility can keep a person functioning. However, when the noise settles and routine returns, the body sometimes begins to process what the mind has been holding back.
Grief does not always follow a predictable timeline. For some individuals—especially those with earlier life stress or unresolved emotional experiences—the impact of loss can surface gradually and linger longer. Ngozi grew up carrying significant responsibility as the first child in her family. There had been longstanding tensions within the home connected to her late brother’s struggles. Years earlier, she experienced a panic episode following a frightening accident. After the birth of her child, she went through a period of low mood and reduced motivation that eventually improved but was never deeply explored.
None of these experiences disappeared. They were endured, managed, and folded into daily life. Yet early experiences shape how the nervous system responds to later trauma. When someone has learned, consciously or unconsciously, to suppress emotions, to prioritise others’ needs, or to cope by pushing forward without pause, the body often carries unresolved stress. A significant loss can reactivate earlier vulnerabilities. Grief then becomes layered. It is not only about the person who died, but also about old fears, unfinished pain, and longstanding patterns of self-neglect.
This is why grief later in life can sometimes feel heavier than expected. It may show up as persistent fatigue, difficulty concentrating, sleep disturbances, changes in appetite, increased irritability, or heightened anxiety about losing others. In busy urban environments like Lagos, these symptoms are easily attributed to stress or overwork. While stress certainly plays a role, it is important to consider whether the body is signalling something deeper.
Self-awareness is essential in navigating this process. It helps to gently examine what is happening now and connect it with what has happened before. Asking questions such as, “How did I learn to cope with pain as a child?” or “What earlier experiences might be shaping my reaction today?” can bring clarity. When people understand that their current response is influenced by their history, they are less likely to judge themselves harshly.
Learning about trauma and grief can also be empowering. Understanding that delayed grief responses are common reduces the shame many people feel. Simple practices can support emotional regulation. Quiet breathing exercises, brief periods of meditation, or mindful awareness of physical sensations can help calm an overactivated nervous system. Even setting aside a few minutes each day to sit without distraction and acknowledge feelings can make a difference.
However, when grief begins to impair work performance, strain relationships, disrupt sleep, or cause persistent physical symptoms, seeking professional support is important. Therapy offers a structured space to process loss, explore earlier experiences, and develop healthier coping mechanisms. It provides language for emotions that may have long gone unnamed.
Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor is it a failure of faith or resilience. It is a human response to attachment and love. In a city that celebrates endurance, perhaps the more courageous act is allowing ourselves to understand how our past shapes our present—and giving ourselves permission to heal with intention rather than simply pushing through.
