Psychological First Aid Matters as Well

At 4:47 PM on a Tuesday in Lagos, the building on Adeyemi Street groaned once, twice, and then folded into itself like paper.

Zainab was seventeen. She had been in the compound doing her hair when the wall of the three-storey building beside her house came down. Her cousin, nine-year-old Tobi, had run inside seconds earlier to fetch his football.

He didn’t come out.

For the next two hours, the longest of Zainab’s life, neighbours dug with bare hands, buckets, and a single battery-powered torchlight. When the people finally pulled Tobi’s body from the debris, the street erupted in a grief so loud it seemed to shake what was left standing.

 What happened next is the part of this story that almost nobody talks about.

An ambulance arrived. Paramedics treated the cuts on Zainab’s arms, checked her blood pressure, gave her cousin’s mother an IV for shock.They did all they were trained to do.

Every physical and material need was met with real, admirable speed. It was beautiful.

But one thing was left out. Nobody asked Zainab how she was feeling. Maybe somebody did ask and that was the end. Nobody sat with her while she replayed those two hours on a loop, over and over, for months. Nobody told her that the numbness she felt, the strange calm that made her family whisper that she was “coping so well”, was actually a warning sign, not a strength.

 Three months later, Zainab was skipping school, sleeping with the lights on, and flinching every time a door slammed. Everyone around her had moved on to rebuilding walls. Nobody had helped her rebuild what collapsed on the inside.

 This is the story of nearly every disaster, be it big or small, a collapsed building, a flood, a fire, a bereavement, an accident. We are, quite rightly, fast to treat the visible wound, which is commendable. But we are almost never as fast, or as intentional, about the invisible one.

 That gap needs to be filled. And the solution does not need to start with a psychologist. We can bridge the gap.

How?

The answer is in Psychological First Aid.

What Is Psychological First Aid?

Psychological First Aid (PFA) is not therapy. It is not counselling, and it is not about diagnosing anyone with anything. Think of it as the emotional equivalent of applying pressure to a wound before the surgeon arrives. It’s a supportive, compassionate presence that stabilizes a person in acute distress and helps connect them to further care if they need it.

You do not need a psychology degree to offer PFA. A teacher, an aunty, a friend, a first responder, even a passerby, anyone can learn to do this. That’s the entire point. In a country where mental health professionals are far and few relative to the population, the person sitting next to the survivor is often the only “help” available in that first hour. That person should know what to do.

 One widely used framework for this is the RAPID model, developed at Johns Hopkins. It’s worth knowing the shape of it, even in simple terms, because it turns “I don’t know what to say” into a practical, helpful set of steps.

 The RAPID Model

 R – Rapport and Reflective Listening

Before anything else, be present. Introduce yourself. Make sure the environment feels safe. Then listen, not to fix, not to advise, just to understand. The goal is simple: the person should feel heard.

Psychologists sometimes call this a “ministry of presence.” You don’t need the right words. You need to actually show up and stay.

 A – Assessment

Gently get a sense of what happened and how the person is reacting to it. You’re not interrogating; you’re noticing. Are they able to function, eat, sleep, speak, make decisions, or are they shutting down entirely? This tells you how urgently they need more support.

 P – Prioritization

Not everyone in a crisis needs the same level of help at the same time. Some people are in acute crisis and need immediate support. Many people are simply distressed and will recover with rest, informal support, and time. A few are remarkably steady and mainly need to be left to help others. Recognizing the difference means you don’t pour all your energy into the person who’s “loudest” while missing the one quietly falling apart.

 I – Intervention

This is where you actually help, but gently. Make sure basic needs (food, safety, water) are met first; an empty stomach makes everything harder to process. Let the person express their emotions without rushing them to “be strong.” Offer simple, accurate information instead of rumours. And ask one of the most powerful question in psychological first aid:

“What do you need most right now?”

 That question, usually, matters more than almost anything else you could say.

 D – Disposition

Before you part ways, summarize what you’ve talked about. Ask how they’re feeling in that moment. Help them think about a next step, however small. And if their distress seems beyond what informal support can hold, gently guide them toward professional help.

 If you remember nothing else from this article, remember these:

•  Presence beats perfection. You don’t need the perfect words. Sitting quietly with someone who is hurting, without rushing them or fixing them, is one of the most powerful things a human being can offer another.
•  Calm is not always fine. A person who seems unusually composed after a traumatic event isn’t necessarily “handling it well.” Numbness can be shock. Check in anyway.
•  Ask, don’t assume. “What do you need right now?” will almost always serve someone better than your guess at what they need.

 Zainab’s family eventually moved to a new house. The rubble left by the collapsed building was cleared a few months later, and three other homes were rebuilt on the street. Structurally, the neighbourhood healed fast.

 Zainab took much longer, partly because it took months before anyone thought to ask her the questions that mattered, before someone recognized that her quiet, “well-behaved” grief needed more than time to resolve.

 Disasters keep happening, buildings collapse, accidents occur, floods rise. We, as individuals, must learn that the victims bleed do not only from the scars and bruises but also from the heart.

Helping doesn’t always require a therapist. It just requires you to show up, sit down, ask the right question and listen.

 

If you or someone you know is struggling after a difficult or traumatic experience, please don’t face it alone. Reach out to a trusted adult, a schoolcounselor, or a mental health professional. You deserve support for what’s happening on the inside too.

By Augustine Okeyade