Ama had survived a terrible car crash years ago.
She thought the worst was behind her until the videos began.
First, the Kumasi Road gory accident claimed the lives of 16 young people.
Then, the helicopter crash involving top government officials right here in Ghana.
Within two days, there had been similar helicopter crashes in other parts of the world.
The bad news was rolling in like waves; bad news, they say, travels faster.
Graphic images flooded her phone, each one dragging her back to the moment her car spun out of control.
Her chest tightened, and her sleep vanished.
Her twelve-year-old son, Kwame, began asking, with fear visible in his eyes, “Mummy, are helicopters safe?
Will one fall on us?”
For people like Ama, these aren’t just news updates; they’re wounds that have been reopened.
For children like her son and many others, they plant seeds, seeds of fear.
The tragic helicopter crash in Ghana, which claimed the lives of respected officials, among other recent accidents, has shaken the entire nation and left us in mourning.
It is deeply saddening.
As a hospital community, we join the rest of the country in expressing our deepest condolences to the families, friends and colleagues of those who have lost their lives.
We also hold in our thoughts those injured, their loved ones and the many witnesses whose lives will never be the same.
Alongside the grief, however, there is another tragedy unfolding, one that is silent, invisible, yet avoidable: the uncontrolled circulation of graphic images and videos of tragic scenes and the psychological effect it has on many people.
Images can become weapons. In the immediate aftermath of disasters, people’s instincts are to seek information and to share what they see.
But the speed and reach of today’s social media mean that sensitive, graphic content can spread within minutes, even before families have been officially notified.
As a psychiatrist, I’ve seen how exposure to violent or distressing imagery without warning can deeply affect mental health and observed how stories are shared, sometimes carelessly, in the rush to be first or viral.
The consequences, however, are real.
You don’t need to be at the scene to be affected.
Graphic images can trigger anxiety, nightmares, post-traumatic stress and depression.
Children, like Kwame, are especially vulnerable.
Their minds are still forming, and exposure to violent content can lead to fear, confusion and long-term emotional distress.
For families of the victims, the pain is compounded.
Seeing their loved ones’ final moments shared online, often without consent or sensitivity, can be devastating.
It robs them of dignity, privacy and peace.
And for the rest of us, repeated exposure to such content can numb us, making us feel and care less than we once did.
Stop. Think. Then share.
In the age of instant sharing, we’ve all become broadcasters.
But with that power comes responsibility.
Before forwarding that video or posting that photo, we must ask ourselves: Would I want this shared if it were my loved one?
Is this helping others understand, or merely shocking them?
Can I express solidarity without amplifying pain?
Empathy must guide our clicks; we must not lose our sensitivity.
What then should we do? In moments of crisis, our actions should reflect empathy, dignity, and respect.
Of course, we have freedom of speech, but let us choose humanity over curiosity.
Media sensitivity saves lives. Responsible media sensitivity means:
-Waiting for official updates before sharing information.
-Avoiding graphic images that show victims.
-Sharing only verified facts from trusted sources.
-Protecting the dignity of those affected by using respectful language.
As a hospital, we see the emotional scars that follow tragedy, and we know that healing is not just physical; it is also very psychological.
Let us honour the memory of those we have lost by treating their lives and stories with the respect they deserve.
The next time tragedy strikes and a photo or video appears on your phone, stop, think and choose compassion.
Our society will be healthier and our grieving hearts lighter if we all do our part.
To the bereaved, we stand with you.
To the injured, we wish you strength and recovery.
And to our fellow Ghanaians, let’s be the kind of community that heals, not one that harms.
Specialist Psychiatrist;
Accra Psychiatric Hospital.
