A chilling incident in Kano sparks questions about the emotional cost of parasocial connections, as TikTok continues to shape teenage identities and influence mental health.
In a world where social media never sleeps, a single app has managed to captivate, inspire, and sometimes derail the emotional stability of its youngest users. TikTok, a platform born in 2017 under the Chinese tech giant ByteDance, is now more than just a space for catchy lip-syncs and trendy dances. It has become a cultural force, a source of identity, and, in extreme cases, an emotional crutch.
The success of TikTok lies in its simplicity: often 15- to 60-second videos powered by music, creativity, and instant gratification. With over 500 million active users and an algorithm designed to keep users scrolling endlessly, it’s easy to slip into what’s often called the “TikTok rabbit hole,” only to emerge hours later, dazed, entertained, and perhaps emotionally drained.
The Allure of Fame and the Fragility of Youth
For teenagers, TikTok offers a stage to be seen, heard, and validated. It’s a platform for comedy, dance, beauty tips, social commentary, and activism. But it also functions as a mirror, sometimes distorted—reflecting what they think they should be, or worse, must become. The likes, the followers, the comments—they’re addictive affirmations, especially for a generation already struggling with identity, purpose, and mental health.
On TikTok, anyone can go viral. It’s easier to gain numerous followers there than on Instagram or Twitter. And with that accessibility comes a powerful allure, especially for young fans who idolize content creators not just as entertainers, but as role models, friends, even saviors.
One such creator is Abdul BK, a comic and artist from Kano, Nigeria. Known for his relatable sketches about everyday life in northern Nigeria, Abdul BK has built a digital following by blending humor with heritage. He isn’t just funny, he’s authentic. And that authenticity has made him beloved by many, particularly teenagers who find echoes of their own lives in his content.
The Rise of Abdul BK
Abdul BK is a prominent TikToker from northern Nigeria known for his comedic sketches and positive content. With a verified presence on TikTok and Instagram, he has built a loyal following by tapping into relatable aspects of Nigerian life, from family dynamics and street slang to the quirks of everyday culture.
His popularity stems not just from humor, but from his ability to foster a sense of community. He’s more than just an entertainer, he’s a voice for a generation. Yet, even Abdul couldn’t have predicted the extent to which some fans would go to gain his attention.
A Cry for Connection
On June 23, 2025, a chilling event unfolded in Kano. A 19-year-old from Adamawa State, Ibrahim Abubakar, climbed a towering billboard at Ado Bayero Bridge and threatened to jump. His demand? To see Abdul BK, the TikTok star he had journeyed across states to meet.
For hours, Abubakar stood precariously on the billboard structure, drawing a crowd and causing panic among bystanders. Some pleaded with him to come down. Shockingly, others urged him to jump. “If na empathy, that one for don die,” one eyewitness said bitterly. “There’s no empathy in Nigeria anymore—not on the streets, not in churches, not in families.”
Eventually, the police and fire services intervened. Through delicate negotiation and by bringing Abdul BK to the scene, they were able to coax Abubakar down. Weak from hunger and mental exhaustion, he was taken to Bompai Police Hospital for treatment. The authorities reminded the public that attempted suicide is a criminal offense—but also a cry for help that should not be ignored.
The Double-Edged Sword of Social Media
What drives a young person to such extremes? For many teens, creators like Abdul BK are more than internet personalities. They are emotional lifelines. They represent success, joy, and connection—things that can feel desperately out of reach in real life.
But this dependency reveals something deeply troubling: social media is not just a distraction—it can be a distortion. TikTok, like other platforms, gives users a curated view of life. Teenagers see peers with expensive cars, perfect bodies, and millions of views, reinforcing the illusion that virality equals worth. As a result, some grow detached from reality, believing success is a performance, not something earned through work or resilience.
Worse still, the constant dopamine hits from scrolling and posting reduce attention spans, weaken coping skills, and intensify feelings of inadequacy. “They just want attention, likes, and followers,” one observer lamented. “They don’t care how they get it.”
Another onlooker put it bluntly:
“All this for a TikToker? He didn’t even climb for food or poverty. Just fame. We’ve lost perspective.”
Fandom, Fame, and the Fine Line
The phenomenon of fandom isn’t new, but TikTok has intensified its reach. Teens form parasocial relationships, one-sided emotional attachments with creators who don’t even know they exist. This can be harmless admiration, but when mixed with fragile mental health and unrealistic expectations, it becomes dangerous.
Teenagers are naturally drawn to people they relate to or aspire to be like. But this admiration must be guided, contextualized, and grounded in reality. When it slips into obsession, as seen in Kano, the consequences can be life-threatening.
Thankfully, Abdul BK responded with kindness. His calm presence and willingness to engage with Abubakar may have saved a life. “The best person to empathize with you is yourself,” another onlooker commented. “But sometimes, it takes one act of kindness to pull someone back from the edge.”
Abdul BK’s response, showing up for his fan and engaging with compassion—offers a glimpse into how influencers can shape not just trends, but lives. With great visibility comes great responsibility.
What TikTok Doesn’t Show
The reality is that TikTok, like all inventions, has both pros and cons. It democratizes entertainment and gives marginalized voices a platform. It also fuels addiction to validation, distorts self-image, and worsens mental health in vulnerable teens.
Today’s youth are under immense pressure. While past generations dealt with television or tabloids, this one faces a 24/7 feedback loop of comparison, praise, and judgment—all from a glowing rectangle in their hand.
It’s a glittering, illusionary world. But behind the filters and trending sounds lies a generation quietly crying out—not just for likes, but for connection, meaning, and empathy.