Nseobong Okon-Ekong and Raphael Innocent report from the premiere of Behind the Bet, a thought-provoking documentary that brings to life the gripping real stories of Nigerians battling gambling addiction
Every now and then, a film comes along that jolts the conscience of a nation. Behind the Bet, a recently released documentary, is one such work. What begins as a gripping human interest story quickly transforms into a mirror reflecting one of Nigeria’s least-discussed social crises — the quiet epidemic of gambling addiction.
The film, produced by Angela Belederemo and Seun Abimbola, and directed by Jimi Ojikutu from a script written with Asemota Ize-Iyamu, may not have the glamour of a blockbuster, but it has something far more important — urgency. It exposes the emotional wreckage behind the flashing lights of betting shops and mobile gaming apps that now dominate Nigerian urban life.
The glamour and the trap
Nigeria’s gambling industry has exploded in recent years, driven by technology, unemployment, and the dream of instant wealth. Betting platforms have cleverly positioned themselves as a form of harmless entertainment — or worse, as an economic lifeline. Yet, Behind the Bet forces us to ask: At what cost?
For every lucky winner who boasts on social media, there are hundreds of broken stories hidden in shame — families torn apart, debts piling up, mental breakdowns, and, in some tragic cases, suicide. The documentary gives these invisible casualties a face and a voice.
“Unlike alcohol or drug abuse, gambling addiction is invisible. Many people don’t even realize they are addicted,” said Seun Abimbola, Programme Director of the Responsible Gaming Against Addiction Foundation (RGAAF).
He is right. Nigeria has normalised gambling. From bus parks to university campuses, it is marketed as a sport, a game, even a career. There are jingles, billboards, and celebrity endorsements, but little conversation about the devastation left in its wake.

When winning becomes losing
The documentary reveals the chilling mechanics of gambling addiction. It is not just about losing money. It is about losing control. Each failed bet becomes fuel for the next. Each small win deepens the illusion of mastery. Soon, a person is no longer playing for pleasure but chasing losses, sinking deeper into despair.
According to Dr. Olayinka Jibunoh of the Freudian Centre, gambling addiction now affects at least one per cent of the Nigerian population — mostly young people. That figure might appear small, but every addict impacts six others — spouses, parents, children, employers, and friends. When viewed through that lens, society is staring at a silent public health emergency.
Not a call for prohibition but for responsibility
Belederemo, an addiction specialist, is careful to emphasise that RGAAF is not campaigning for a ban on gambling. Rather, it calls for awareness, accountability, and empathy.
“Some people use gambling as a coping mechanism,” she explained. “The right thing is to help them replace it with healthier choices.”
This distinction is crucial. Prohibition has never worked for any vice. What Nigeria needs is a framework for responsible gaming, much like regulations around alcohol and tobacco. This includes age restrictions, spending limits, public education, and government-funded rehabilitation programmes.
The foundation’s initiative — which includes a toll-free helpline and online self-assessment test at www.responsiblegaming.africa — is a small but significant step in the right direction. Yet, it cannot succeed without the involvement of regulators, gaming companies, and the media.
vulnerable populations under the guise of entertainment.
A more balanced perspective would have strengthened the film’s credibility. Still, its core message — that gambling addiction destroys lives — remains valid and urgent.

The bigger picture
What Behind the Bet ultimately achieves is conversation. For too long, Nigeria has ignored the human cost of its booming betting culture. We celebrate billion-naira jackpots but overlook the social rot beneath. We quote GDP figures but forget the despair in the slums where gambling replaces hope.
The country’s moral institutions — churches, mosques, schools, and policymakers — have been largely silent. Yet, if gambling addiction continues unchecked, its consequences could rival those of substance abuse or cybercrime in undermining the social fabric.

A time to act
Behind the Bet ends on a hopeful note — recovery is possible. But that hope must be matched by action. Regulators must prioritise player welfare, not just revenue. Gaming companies must fund addiction treatment and education as part of their corporate responsibility. Parents must talk to their children about the risks. The media must continue to tell these stories, not just promote the glamour of betting.
In shining a light on this dark corner of society, Behind the Bet has done its part. Now, the rest of us society must do theirs — to look beyond the thrill of the bet and confront the growing shadow it casts across the nation.


