Addictive, Draining: Nigerian Students Losing Their Sanity to Online Betting

On a hot Saturday afternoon in Zaria, Kaduna State, the betting shops tucked deep within the street, hidden from plain sight, were thrumming with echoes of young men full of anticipation. The concrete floor was already coated with hundreds of discarded betting slips, each one once holding a story of something more profound: meals postponed, wages risked, debts deepened, and school fees risked. 

Some had been clutched tightly only hours earlier, now trampled underfoot, the slips carried nothing but loud silence. For many, this has become a routine. What seems like harmless fun hides something not often spoken: a growing mental health crisis among Nigerian youth. 

Joshua, a betting shop manager and owner who has watched this cycle for 15 years, estimates that 50 to 60% of his customers are students, and 90 % are male. He admits that losing often leaves them “frustrated and desperate” but downplays the risk. “There is nothing bad in trying out new ways to make money, even when it is risky,” he insists.

But not every operator downplays the impact. Solomon, whose betting shop is rather quieter than Joshua’s, said,“ I believe strongly they come here to make money, not just for fun. Who would want to risk their hard-earned money?” He explains, “ The system is manipulated, and the algorithm controls the winnings and losses.” He added that customers aged 18 to 25 come in daily, and most of the time, they leave behind the money they came with. 

“The mood swings are real. Sometimes, I feel judged even by my boyfriend, just for being a woman who bets. People don’t expect it from us”, Diyarrh, a university student, said. Her experience reveals a hidden side of gambling, female bettors who face not just financial loss but also cultural stigma.

For Mohammed, the emotional toll is even heavier. Within the first 12 days of July, he had bet N289 844, and he could not even remember how much he had won. What began as a love for gaming spiralled into addiction. “ Right now, I can not stop, I tried to, but I’m back to it again”, he confesses. “It’s so addictive, it’s like smoking, you try to quit, but you always return”, Mohammed said. 

Ironically, Mohammed has gotten used to the sensation of losing, but it keeps him alive as he falls deeper into anger and frustration. Unlike Diyarrh, Mohammed no longer pretends it is just fun or about money. “ I’m addicted”, he admits. “ I have broken my phone four times due to anger, but if I had access to therapy or counselling, I would stop”. 

Betting is not just a game of chance; it is a trap designed to keep players caught in its cycle. According to Dr Steve Rose, an addiction counsellor, explains how gambling hijacks the brain’s dopamine system and uses random wins and near misses to keep players hooked. The illusion of control gives players confidence, causing them to believe that their strategy or understanding gives them an advantage. Such mechanisms explain why bettors like Diyarrh and Mohammed remain locked in the cycle. 

According to a Nigerian sports Lawyer, the National Lottery Act of 2005 and state-level laws such as the Lagos State Lotteries and Gaming Authority Law (2021) form the backbone of gambling regulation in the country. However, these frameworks are designed with the assumption that all gamblers are responsible adults making informed choices. 

“It is legal to advertise to university students,” the Lawyer admits, “but ethically it’s a distraction. Betting takes them away from their studies and too often from their peace of mind”. For the lawyer, the way forward is not just stricter laws but also awareness. “We need stronger regulations, yes, but also education,” he says. He believes Nigeria needs comprehensive consumer education programs to create awareness and increased access to responsible gambling tools to foster a safer and more transparent gambling environment. 

In May 2024, Hon. Julius Ihonvbere, House Leader of Nigeria’s House of Representatives, alongside Speaker Abbas Tajudeen, raised serious concerns about the rising wave of sports betting addiction among Nigerian youth, particularly students, and called for urgent regulatory intervention. 

They recommended mandatory counselling and mental health treatment for addicted individuals, legislative amendments to the National Lottery Act, and the establishment of addiction treatment units in public hospitals, funded by betting operators. These discussions, backed by institutions like the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS), acknowledged betting as a financial issue and a growing public health crisis. 

However, despite the urgency of the matter, no concrete actions or policy implementations have been reported as of mid-2025, leaving the mental health consequences of online betting unaddressed and underscoring the need for investigative storytelling that gives voice to those silently suffering from gambling-related stress and addiction.

Mohammed’s words, however, tell a different story. “ If I had access to therapy, I would stop,” he says. His calls for help reflect a reality that policymakers ignore. Without any support system, addicts will remain trapped in cycles of relapse. 

Online betting thrives because it is often glamorised, normalised, and profitable for those who run it. But for the young people caught in its trap, the fun usually turns to despair and depression. As Mohammed once said, “It’s like smoking. Once hooked, breaking free without proper help feels almost impossible.”