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Artistes are stepping up and sharing personal experiences about mental health, which is bringing the topic into the spotlight and inspiring others to open up too.
June is men’s mental health month and though it may come as news to some men, we hope it becomes a normalised culture that won’t need reminder at its time. Here are a few deep-cut songs,with themes around mental health that men should listen to.
Trigger Warning: there are mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts.
Duade — Show Dem Camp ft. Cina Soul
In 2019, SDC released its classic album, Clone Wars IV: These Buhari Times; an audio-documentary of the Nigerian political, cultural and mental ecosystem. The fourth track, Duade, (featuring Ghanaian singer-songwriter Cina Soul,) explores the topic of masculinity and depression. Tec opens the song with a message about how men in this part of the world don’t have an outlet to talk and often grow up thinking it’s wrong to express themselves emotionally or be vulnerable.
A Self Evaluation of Yxng Dxnzl — M.I Abaga ft. Niyola
This song starts with a voice note of M.I’s mum telling him to always do the right things and not forget where he comes from and. But all M.I wants to do is “drink, fuck, smoke, chill, party all day still,” with an admission that he’s been battling a deep depression and can be the worst guy sometimes.
This song comes from his most vulnerable piece of art, Yxng Dxnzl (A Study on Self Evaluation). Across the ten-track album, listeners experience the rapper at his most human and honest form, tying mental health awareness with his personal journey, insecurities and short samples of his therapy sessions at the end of each song.
Wetin We Gain — Victor AD
Wetin We Gain was of the biggest hits of 2018. Apart from its catchy chorus and relatability, different meanings (like quick wealth and internet scams) have been attached to the song, in opposition to its actual message; a cry to the heavens for a breakthrough. But it’s even deeper. The most memorable lines of the song expresses the daily fear of average Nigerian men, who feel pressure to be the breadwinners of their families.
I’m A Mess — Omah Lay
After his latest release, Boy Alone Deluxe, we can all agree Omah Lay is the current Nigerian poster boy for vulnerability and emotional travails. On I’m A Mess, he deeply expresses his broken heart, sadness, and finding escape in liquor. Baring age and gender, everyone can relate to this song due simplicity, both in production and lyricism.
It’s Okay To Cry — Yinka Bernie ft. Joyce Olong
Nigerian multidisciplinary artist Yinka Bernie accurately describes the feeling of being stuck; an experience that a lot people today can relate to, on Joyce Olong-assisted It’s Okay To Cry. Inspired by personal experiences which made Bernie doubt his music career; he soothes listeners with an encouraging message of hope and the acceptance of vulnerability “it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to feel lost inside.” This song feels like reassurance in audio form.
Alpha Ojini’s Tears Are Salty For A Reason EP is filled with deep cuts tracks of vulnerability, but Odeshi explores masculinity and mental health profoundly. Ogranya lays a chorus that expresses bottling up tears and other emotions, and Alpha details struggling with mom’s demise and the ‘manly’ approach his tough dad gave him to deal with the long-time grief. All of this is coupled with the mental stress of surviving Nigeria and an ex serving him breakfast. Ogranya ends the song with “I go still commit” which translates to taking one’s own life; an expression of the last resort if the darkness doesn’t stop hovering over him. It’s a powerful record that reminds one why mental health is important and issues shouldn’t be bottled.
A Song About Suicide (Mr. Babalawo Reprise) — PayBac iBoro
Nigerian rapper PayBac iBoro has been a big advocate of mental health since he made an official entry into the Nigeria music industry in 2015. On his 2018 album, The Biggest Tree (his present to all depressed West African kids), is A Song About Suicide. PayBac expresses strong suicidal thoughts and his final wishes after he’s gone, over a dark fusion of Afrobeats, African percussion, trumpets sounds — all instruments you’d find at interments. Overall, the song is based on his fight to hold tightly to life and his beloved family and friends.
Dance In The Rain — 2face Idibia
This is one of 2Baba’s greatest recordings. A record that pushes a message of deep appreciation for life and enjoying it, taking every breath of air, being present in the moment and staying open to possibilities. In a period like this, this song is a good refresher and great reminder to chin up and stay positive.
How Bad Could It Be — Burna Boy
Off of Burna Boy’s 2022 album Love, Damini, this song opens with the voices of U.K singer Jorja Smith, Nigerian boxer Kamaru Usman, dropping statements about self-control; and making rational decisions during intense situations. Burna Boy glides on the guitar and laid-back beat that accompanies it, singing about the punctures of anxiety and dreadful feeling of searching for answers in the wrong places.
take a break — Odunsi (The Engine)
Odunsi talks about his mom’s constant complaints about his absence from home. But she needs to understand he’s been busy working hard to achieve success and make her proud. If he’s not making things happen for himself, who else will? These are some of the mentally-challenging situations inspired by his personal experience, the song encourages resting and recharging to avoid burnout.
From battling with traffic to hustling for fuel in long queues, Nigeria is definitely not for the faint-hearted. This is why the government needs to take our mental health seriously.
If you’ve ever wondered how seriously the government is taking the issue of our mental health, here’s what we know.
Nigeria’s current mental health law is six decades old
Nigeria enacted its first mental health legislation, the Lunacy Ordinance, in 1916. The law was then revised in 1958 to include the imprisonment of mentally ill people. However, it’s sad to see that after six decades, nothing has changed about how Nigeria engages with mental health issues.
There have been many failed attempts
The National Assembly introduced a Mental Health Bill in 2003 but dropped it after six years of no progress. A new bill was introduced in 2013 as part of the National Policy for Mental Health Services Delivery. The aim was to establish the foundations for delivering care to people with mental, neurological, and substance addiction difficulties. Again, this bill failed to pass.
The latest mental health bill was introduced in the National Assembly in 2021 and has been passed. But President Buhari needs to sign it before it becomes law. We can only hope that this doesn’t end up in the dustbin as well.
Nigeria desperately needs this new law to pass
Mental health care in Nigeria is a catastrophe. Approximately 80% of Nigerians with mental health needs cannot access care due to factors like lack of funds, facilities, personnel, and even cultural and religious superstitions about mental health. The common solutions for mental illnesses are almost always spiritual remedies.
Just like everything in Nigeria that has nothing to do with the enjoyment of politicians, mental health care is also highly underfunded. The mental health budget is roughly 3.3% to 4% of GDP, with over 90% going to a few neuropsychiatric hospitals. It also doesn’t help that the primary funding for these hospitals are from the government’s health budget.
Mental health patients are also not spared. A 2019 report by Human Rights Watch (HRW) noted that thousands of mental health patients face prolonged detention, physical and sexual violence, or forced treatment, including electroshock therapy.
If there was ever a time to update Nigeria’s mental health policies to reflect that we’re in the 21st century, it’s now.
Navigating life as a woman in the world today is interesting. From Nigeria to Timbuktu, it’ll amaze you how similar all our experiences are. Every Wednesday, women the world over will share their experiences on everything from sex to politics right here.
This week’s #ZikokoWhatSheSaid subject is a 43-year-old Nigerian woman. She talks about finding peace after her mother’s death, living with two bipolar brothers and escaping toxicity through classic books and films.
What makes you happy right now?
My published books, blogs and fan fiction. I haven’t made much money from them, but getting readers’ feedback makes me feel better about my self-worth. My mum died a week before my 40th birthday and my mind closed off. I couldn’t function. It wasn’t just the shock of her death, I also felt she died disappointed in me. I’m her only child who didn’t give her grandchildren or get married. A lot was left unsaid between us.
Like what?
She wasn’t always fair to me. Islam teaches us to accept the will of Allah, but I wish I focused more on her counsel than worrying about criticism from her. My brother’s wife told me something that gave me some closure. She said they often discussed me when I was at work and my mother would say she was proud of me. I wish she’d said things like that to me. I miss her very much, and I still feel sad when I think of her.
I’m sorry. How do you feel about not being married now?
Well, I never imagined I’d be single at 40, but I don’t mind it at all. I don’t want to be under a man who will tell me what to do or I’d need permission from. As a single woman, I’m not pressured to meet a husband’s expectations. I’m my own person.
What gives you this impression about marriage?
I’ve personally not experienced many healthy ones. My brother and his family live with me, and he has bipolar disorder. He’s on medication, but he’s not easy to live with. I sympathise with his wife but get angry and frustrated during his episodes. I always have to remind myself he’s mentally ill, yet sometimes, I feel he uses it to justify his general selfishness and superiority over his wife especially. Most times, I avoid him so his antics won’t get me down, but she can’t.
How do you manage your own mental health?
I focus on my hobbies. I read and watch classics, and write mostly to tune out the negativity. Sometimes, I just go out. I considered therapy but decided not to because I’m terrified of the possibility of needing meds.
I had panic attacks up until about 2010 because of my teaching job. I hid the attacks from my mum, who was already dealing with my younger brothers. Both of them are bipolar; I couldn’t add my issues. It was a horrible feeling, and I’m still prone to anxiety now and then. I don’t want a psychiatrist to detect it and say I should take meds. Then I’ll be unable to function without them. I want to be in control of my life without meds.
Fair enough. What was it like growing up with two bipolar brothers?
Their condition was undetected until they were both in university. But it’s not been easy. I never know when they might have an episode. The younger one takes his meds but won’t stop taking caffeine. He’s more bearable than the older one, but sometimes, he’s unreasonable. I resent the older one more because he’s done many things I can’t forgive him for. I generally try to avoid them.
Tell me about the hobbies that help you tune out negativity
I’ve loved classic books and films since I was a child. I have my late father to thank for that. He was a voracious reader who wanted his children to improve their vocabulary. He’d buy us books on our birthdays and let us read from his collection. Reading and writing fill me with fond memories of him.
That must be nice
He was still a strict father, though. Because of his temper and how he was set in his ways, I was afraid to cross him.
Where did your love for classic films come in?
As a child, NTA 5 aired BBC adaptations of classics like “Jane Eyre” (my favourite book), “Little Women” (my second favourite) and “Oliver Twist”. It made me love the classics even more. I also grew up watching great films like “The Sound of Music”, “The Thief of Baghdad” and “My Fair Lady”.
After reading about the history of motion pictures in an encyclopaedia in JSS 2, I wanted to watch all the films mentioned in it. Over the years, I’ve been able to. I especially enjoyed the film noirs. I love the feeling of entering another era, and it’s been helpful now when I need to escape. Today’s films, most of which are remakes of the classics, just don’t compare.
How did you transition to actually writing your own stuff?
The more books I read, and films I watched, the more I longed to create my own stories. But I didn’t consider actually writing until I started reading Enid Blyton’s books, my first inspiration to write children’s stories. I was about eight when my father bought one for me, “The Three Wishes, and other stories”. I think I was 15, when I first wrote anything. It was a three-stanza poem about the sea, and I sadly no longer have a copy. My first two books were published by Lantern Books.
How did that go?
It’s not easy to write for kids because you have to learn what they like, how they think, and keep the language simple. I submitted a manuscript of ten children’s stories in 2003. They were published in 2006 as two separate books. I was so happy when the physical copies were placed in my hands. But my third book wasn’t published till late 2018.
Have you written anything for film?
My first attempt at a film script was when I was at Federal College of Education (FCE), Osiele, Abeokuta. I showed it to a friend, but while he said it was well-written, he thought it was controversial because it talked about cultism. I haven’t made a second attempt.
Would you still offer it for adaptation to film one day?
I pray so. It would the pinnacle of my writing career.
And your romantic life so far?
I’ve only been in three brief relationships, and they all happened when I was 19. In fact, I would hardly call them “relationships”. I’m ashamed of the first and third because I thought I was in love. The second, I knew, was real, but I was too immature to handle it well. I haven’t tried again since.
I really don’t want to talk about it; all three were humiliating mistakes. I’ve forgotten the whole thing and moved on with my life, happily single.
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One of the most relatable tweets I’ve seen recently is the one where the person said ADHD is the new OCD because people are self-diagnosing and treating it like a personality trait.
It’s easy to cherry-pick a relatable symptom of a medical condition, and say you have that condition. A lot of people do it. But with ADHD, it’s much deeper. ADHD isn’t just forgetting things, getting distracted easily, or being hyper. It’s a neurodevelopmental disorder. It’s a disorder because it affects an individual’s functioning one way or the other — socially, occupationally, or just generally in life.
As someone with ADHD, I know from experience the extent to which the disorder can disrupt your life. But before I get into that, I’d like to quickly —in the simplest way possible —explain ADHD to you from a professional’s explanation.
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a disorder that consists of a combination of persistent problems, such as difficulty sustaining attention, hyperactivity, and impulsive behaviour. There are three types of ADHD —inattentive, hyperactive or impulsive, and a combination of both.
Inattentive ADHD
Inattentive ADHD isn’t what most people picture when they think of ADHD. People with inattentive ADHD have trouble staying focused, get distracted easily, and make “careless” mistakes because they have trouble paying attention to details. They also have trouble organising or finishing things. There are nine symptoms of this type of ADHD:
Lack of attention to details
Difficulty following instructions
Frequent daydreaming
Difficulty sustaining mental effort
Often misplacing things
Short attention span
Forgetfulness
Trouble staying focused
Difficulty following through on instructions or tasks
People with hyperactive-impulsive ADHD have trouble staying still. They often squirm, fidget, and they hardly ever seem to slow down. They feel the need for constant movement, and they struggle to stay seated.
The nine symptoms of hyperactive-impulsive ADHD include:
Inability to sit still
Constant fidgeting
Often on the go, acting as if driven by a motor
Excessive physical movement
Excessive talking
Impulsiveness
Difficulty waiting or taking turns
Frequent interruptions during conversations
Blurting out answers out of turn
If a person has the combination type of ADHD, it means that their symptoms don’t exclusively fall within the inattention or hyperactive-impulsive behaviour. They exhibit a combination of symptoms from both types.
An Important thing to note:
This is where it kind of gets interesting, Being diagnosed with ADHD goes beyond just the symptoms. There are certain conditions that have to be met. :
If you’re younger than 17 years, you have to present at least six of these symptoms. If you’re older than 17 years, you need to present at least five of the symptoms.
Several of these symptoms have to be consistently present for at least 6 months.
Several of the symptoms have to be present in two or more settings — at home, school, or work, with friends, relatives, etc.
Several of these symptoms were present before the age of 12 years.
There is evidence that the symptoms interfere with your quality of life.
My struggle with ADHD
Trust me, ADHD isn’t cool. It isn’t a fun, quirky thing to have. It’s a serious disorder that can affect your life. I have inattentive ADHD, which means I struggle with staying focused. As someone with a professional life, this is a problem.
I do a lot of my work at the last minute. A lot of the time, this happens because I get distracted while working. When I say I get distracted, I mean, I pick up my phone every five minutes. I mean, I fall into rabbit holes quite often and struggle to get out. I mean that the longest time I can stay focused on a task is ten minutes before I get bored, overwhelmed, or distracted by something random, or before I start daydreaming. Sometimes, the reason I leave things until the last minute is that the fast-approaching deadline and the immediacy of the negative consequences that will follow if the deadline isn’t met, help me focus and complete the task.
I also struggle with inattention to detail. As a writer, you can imagine how bad that sounds. Many times I’ve been seen as careless, stubborn and lazy because it seemed like I just didn’t want to get better at my work, or I didn’t want to work at all, when the truth is, I’m trying really hard.
These are some of my basic daily struggles. I can go on and tell you about how I get overwhelmed by a simple to-do list. Or how I sometimes get ADHD task paralysis, which is when I desperately need to get started on something, but everything in me resists it. There’s so much I go through that I wish I could tell you, but we won’t leave here.
Image credit: The ADHD Coach
The struggles of someone with hyperactive-impulsive ADHD
I spoke with someone diagnosed with hyperactive-impulsive ADHD, and she told me about how one of the major struggles she has is how fast she loses interest in things. She’d get excited about certain ideas and projects in the beginning, but along the line, interest would fade and she’d move on to the next thing. And this also happens at work. “If I’m not working on a work task within ten minutes, I’m going to lose interest in it and forget about it. Writing to-do lists just sucks! They give me so much anxiety, and they make me not even want to start on any of the tasks I have to do”, says June. Sometimes, she has a million thoughts running through her head. Other times, she doesn’t have a single thought. “If I don’t make a decision on impulse, it becomes a whole thing where I keep forgetting or procrastinating, and it just becomes a whole mess.”
She also mentioned that she can’t sit in one place for more than ten minutes, and this affected her a lot in school, especially in class. Another thing she mentioned was how she’d make irrational decisions. “I’d be crazy tired, but when people hit me up to go partying, I’d immediately say yes without thinking. Stuff like this happens in every area of my life. It’s even worse when you’re feeling negative emotions. You have so much energy and so many emotions to release that you end up making irrational decisions that can affect you and your relationships. “
How can ADHD affect a person’s work-life?
One of the major struggles a lot of people with ADHD face is working with companies that aren’t educated about things like this. They end up working with employers who don’t understand what it means to have staff that has ADHD. People with ADHD then end up having to compete at the same level with people who aren’t going through what they’re going through, and working with bosses who don’t understand their condition. Many times, these bosses can’t seem to understand that people with ADHD might function differently than their colleagues.
People with ADHD can be seen as lazy, oppositional, disruptive, disorganised, annoying, disrespectful, careless, always making excuses, etc. And this happens because people don’t have the right education about ADHD.
Knowing if you have ADHD
The sad part is that there are people with ADHD who don’t know they have ADHD. If you can remotely relate to any of these things that have been said here, I suggest you get screened. I 100% recommend Nguvu Health. They recently released a free screening for people who suspect they have ADHD. All you have to do is download the app, sign up, click on “Free assessment,” scroll down to the Adult ADHD screening session, and begin your assessment. Once you take the assessment and your results show that there’s a chance you might have ADHD, you’ll have the option to speak to a therapist if you’d like to go further. It’s important that, as someone with ADHD, you get the necessary support and help you require, and this starts with therapy.
If you’d like to educate yourself about ADHD, either to help yourself or a friend, colleague, or employee, there are many resources online that can help you.
As Nigerian men, sharing or talking about how we feel is not something we’re all used to. For some, sharing comes easy. But for others, the boundaries are so thick that no one can come in. After this viral video dropped, we decided to ask some married Nigerian men what they thought about the video and who they talk to when the going gets tough — tif they talk at all.
Tola, 32
I talk to my mum a lot. Honestly, I think it’s lowkey unhealthy how close we are because if anything happens in my life — sexually, mentally, physically or otherwise, my mum is on speed dial like, “You won’t believe what just happened.” I’m glad she created that space for me to open up and it’s something that I don’t take for granted. It started when I was a child, and now it’s almost like a reflex move. I got married last year and while I’m close to my wife, my mum is still the first person I turn to when life gives me gbas-gbos. She has spoken to me about talking to my wife first and I’m trying my best, but I guess old habits are just hard to shake off.
Jesse, 29
I have a rule: If I can’t solve it, there’s no need involving anyone else. It may sound harsh, but I grew up as an only child and didn’t get to talk to a lot of people. It helped me be introspective in a way I fully understand how my mind works. When I feel a certain way, I analyse the situation and try to trace the cause. A lot of girls I dated back then have found it weird but my wife gets it and gives me space when I need it. She also knows I’m there to help with her problems when she needs someone to talk to. I’m just not wired the same way. It’s not effective 100% of the time, but nothing ever is.
EL, 29
I watched that video and found it weird. Yes, men find it hard to show their emotions, but some of these guys sounded proud of the fact that they had no one to call. Why? It’s a shitty thing and not some cool accomplishment. I don’t think I’m better, but I’ve developed a sort of openness with the people in my life that I have multiple people to talk to when things get rough. I have my wife, male and female friends, co-workers, family members and even exes I can call depending on what’s going on. Most guys hide behind the assumption that they have no one to talk to, but really, have you even tried talking to anyone before?
Ifeanyi, 33
I have the best female friends a guy could ever ask for. Being an effeminate queer man, I’ve always gravitated towards women and I’m not ashamed of it. Over the years, they’ve shown up for me more times than I can count. They were the first set of people I came out to, even though you would have to be blind not to have known. They supported and stood by me when I was kitoed and had to escape to the UK. Even though I’m married now, my husband knows that when I’m struggling, my girls are number one on my call list. He knows there’s history and he understands. I also know it’s quite uncommon and straight women can also be dangerous when it comes to weaponising queer people’s queerness against them, but for now, I’m content with my tribe.
Treasure, 30
I’ve always been quiet and reserved so communication has never been my strong suit. I started therapy about two years ago before I got married and I think it has helped me open up more to my wife. While I tend to tell her things I’ve already spoken to my therapist about, I think I’m on the right track. But I can’t deny the fact that I feel more comfortable with a therapist. There’s something easier talking to someone who doesn’t know you, once a week. With my wife, I see her every day when I wake up and before I go to sleep. If I tell her some of the things I tell my therapist, I’m scared she’ll never look at me the same way again.
Obioma, 28
This is why I have my guys. We try to go out at least once a week and even though we tend to end our nights in the club, the first few hours after we link up post-work, is focused on just catching up. If anyone has a problem, we put our heads together and look for a solution or simply check for how we can make them feel better. As men, we’ve created this prison for ourselves and it’s unnecessary — you think people are watching you for signs of weakness but it’s all in your head. I saw it happen with my dad and how he just shut out everyone. And now, no one knows how to talk to him. I don’t want to repeat that. Even if I can’t talk to my wife, at least she knows I’m not bottling everything in.
What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.
Today’s Man Like is Yemi Davis, an art director, 3D designer and all-round baby boy. He has been known to collaborate on multiple projects with international brands like British Telecom, USAID, Georgetown University and First Bank, as he continues to explore the unique intersection between art and technology.
In this episode of Man Like, he talks about developing a thick skin after being bullied because of his albinism, growing up as a true omo pastor, how math stopped him from studying robotics and the mental health concern that drove him to therapy.
So Yemi, tell me, what was growing up like?
Growing up was interesting. I’ve got albinism, and when I was younger, I was bullied and called all sorts of names like afin, oyinbo or yellow man. It would annoy the hell out of me. I was also a cry baby so once I heard these names, serious gnashing of teeth. My parents would tell me that these people didn’t know better and crying all the time was not a practical solution. I eventually learnt how to be comfortable with my skin enough to drown out everybody else and their opinions.
I’m curious as to how you found this confidence.
A lot of what I’ve said happened in primary school, but I think I started discovering my confidence halfway through secondary school. This doesn’t mean I wasn’t bullied, I just found a way to trick myself into not thinking too much about it. Plus, there were a lot more pressing issues I needed to focus on.
What other pressing issues again?
So I was absolutely terrible at schoolwork. Fun fact, I failed the math section of my GSCE twice. You know the usual grades are like “A” through to “F”? Well, I got a “U”, which is worse than an “F”. It literally means ungraded, like it wasn’t worth being graded. You might as well not have written anything on the exam paper. How I got into university was a miracle.
The only subjects I was good at were ICT, English and Fine Art. Everything else, zero. My teachers kept telling me there was no way I could make it on just those three subjects, but I already sort of knew the trajectory I wanted my life and career to take. Thankfully, it was in line with the subjects I was good at.
You already knew what you wanted to do with your life in secondary school? Must be nice.
I mean at the time I wanted to study robotics.
Say what now?
I know right. A lot of people didn’t even know what it was at the time. Even my physics teacher was confused. To quote that song, “No one knows what it is, but it’s provocative. It gets the people going.”
So Tony Stark, did you do the robotics thing?
The first time I wrote the GSCEs, I went with my dad to collect the result and as soon as we got there, I knew I had failed. I did well, generally, but math was just my problem. My dad was the first one to see the result and I could smell the disappointment in the air. So basically I had to redo it again and this time, I realised that the sciences were not for me. I loved tech and art, so I had to figure out a way to combine both. I was looking through university brochures and found a course called Graphic Design and New Media, which basically combined the things I love. I looked through the requirements, wrote the second exam and even though I failed math again, I scaled through and got into university. Now, I’m a graduate working as an art director and 3D designer.
Whew. I hate to take you back, but how did the bullying you experienced affect you?
Getting bullied has been a somewhat good and bad experience for me. Good because I now have restraint for certain situations and can handle myself when I’m upset. But at the same time, things that should make me upset tend to just fly over my head. So it’s either I don’t react or I fail to react with the level of intensity I should.
Are there any scenarios you’d like to share?
So when I found out I got a 2:2 for my bachelors, I didn’t feel too bad about it. If anything, it further reinforced the fact that I’m not the best at academics, which honestly, I had come to terms with. Would it have been nice to get a better grade? Yes. But the people who truly mattered (my family) were okay with it and that’s all that mattered.
Normally, I’d be upset about something like that, but what I had gone through turned me into one of those “carpe diem” types of people, so I just try to enjoy the moment and avoid letting negative things get to me, especially when they’re beyond my control.
Wow. But how does this affect your relationship with people?
So I started seeing a therapist when I was in university abroad. I would say I’ve improved quite a bit since that time and now I’m better at feeling things.
As men, we rarely talk about our mental health so I’m intrigued as to what inspired your decision to seek therapy.
When I got to university in the UK, everything felt unreal. There were certain times at night where I felt like I was observing myself from outside my own body and genuinely thought I was losing my mind. I used to run to my friends house because I was scared. I later found this toll free number on campus you could call in when you’re feeling depressed or suicidal. I reached out to them and they suggested I see a therapist who diagnosed me with Depersonalisation Disorder.
Getting this diagnosis helped me really understand what I was going through because while I had been to England frequently as a child, this was my first time here alone and I was just 18 years old. The disorder happens to people when they are placed in places foreign to them and at the time, England was a strange place for me. It was this new environment that was cold as fuck with so many white people in one place. I assumed I had everything under control and I was handling the move well, but apparently I was not. Over time, all my suppressed emotions eventually bubbled up to the surface.
Omo.
First day at therapy, and I didn’t know when I started crying. Big man like me? I hadn’t cried in years, and I was just there bawling my eyes out. I remember my therapist telling me it was normal to cry. It was a nice opportunity to be vulnerable and also understand that it’s okay to be that open and honest.
How long were you in therapy for?
About two months.
When did you realise you didn’t need it anymore?
So it wasn’t two months back to back, but more like two months worth of therapy spread over a longer period. I stopped going in my second year of university because I felt like I had found my footing.
Have you ever felt the need to go back?
Yes. I probably will, but I’ve been putting it off. Right now, I’m focused on work. I’ve been having this creative block and my head just feels clogged up. I’m sure it’s due to emotions or feelings I haven’t dealt with. I’ll go back soon.
You’ve spoken about being bullied in Nigeria. What was your experience like in the UK?
Much better. I was intentional about having a fresh start and getting to experience other cultures and people. I had friends from all over, and I remember we had this thing where about six of us from different countries would hang out in a flat and basically make food from our different countries. That’s how I got to try sadza, which is like Fufu from Zimbabwe. It was a nice experience.
See enjoyment.
LOL. Then again, I had some people calling me “Yam” instead of Yemi. I mean, it’s a four letter word. How hard could it be?
Screaming. Have you ever had a “I’m a man now” moment?
That would be when I had to move out of the school dormitory and look for a place of my own after my first year in university. Damn. House hunting was not fun. It was crazy because I was still a stranger in this country, but I had to go get a place, sort out guarantors and sign a lease. It was tedious and made me realise that I was no longer a kid. I had moved from my parents’ house to a dorm and now I had to get a house where all the responsibilities fell on my head. My parents supported with rent, but they still had their own shit in Nigeria, so I eventually got a job to supplement for months when I didn’t get money from them.
What job did you get?
I remember my first job was with Dominos. I didn’t work in the main shop; instead, they made me dress up in a pizza box and just dance on the streets for like five or six hours.
This visual is killing me. Your current career path isn’t the most conventional. How did you sell it to your parents?
They didn’t respond to it badly because even as a child, my dad had a printing press and I used to kick it with the designers. I remember I was already panicking and thinking about how I would convince them, but they were like, “If you’ve prayed about it and it’s what God wants you to do, then fine.”
Awww. So are your parents religious?
Ahhhhhhh. Both my parents are ministers in church.
So you’re like a real omo pastor?
Yeah. When we were younger, we had to go to church. It wasn’t even a question. There was no “My tummy is paining me” or “I have a headache”. As long as you could physically walk, you would be in church. It was interesting and annoying because while everyone left after service, my family would stay back for hundreds of meetings. Church closed at 12 p.m., but we would be there till about 4 p.m. Also, as ministers, my parents got transferred a couple of times, and I didn’t always like the new church.
How did all this moving around affect you?
I missed my friends. We would move to a church, I would make friends and then we would move again. Honestly, it was chaotic. I was able to still keep in touch with some of them via Facebook and BBM because at that time, I wasn’t allowed to go out often.
Why weren’t you going out?
For the most part I didn’t do much going out other than the cinema or to see my friends, and even with these hangouts, I had to book an appointment with my dad days ahead and tell him whose house I was going to and how long I’d be there for. Even after all of this, he would still find a way to scatter everything on that day. That’s why when I got my freedom in university, I went out and did the most. Now my eye don tear.
LOL. Now that you’re a proper adult, what’s your relationship with your parents like?
We’re pretty good now. My dad supports my endeavors, while my mum is the person I go to when it comes to discussing intimate things.
Cool. Talking about spicy intimate things, what’s the dating scene like for you?
Honestly, I’m just being a baby boy, chilling and hanging out with people. My last relationship during the pandemic and she was absolutely wonderful. After that, I just decided to take out time for myself to heal, but now I’m at the point where I can try again.
If you don’t mind me asking, why did it end?
It wasn’t anything crazy, but it’s between the both of us, so I’d rather not get into it.
Fair. So Yemi has entered the streets?
Yes o.
But more specifically, has your albinism affected your dating life?
Honestly… I don’t think it has.
Great. So it’s a new year, what are you excited about?
I definitely want to put out a lot more personal projects this year. Last year was focused on client work, and I didnt get enough time to explore my personal ideas. I also want to put myself out there this year. People always say they don’t know what I look like, and now I’m posting more pictures so they can finally see my face.
On 1st December 2021, Nigerians were shocked by the gruesome death of 12-year-old Sylvester Oromoni, a student of Dowen College, caused by bullying. Reigniting a conversation about a problem that has become normalised over time, Nigerians have demanded justice, not just for Sylvester, but for other students suffering in schools across the country.
With bullying becoming a recurring conversation in the Nigerian space, we spoke to seven Nigerian men on their different experiences as either victims or bullies themselves.
Tobi, 31
Over the past few years, I’ve tried my best to block out what I went through, but seeing the news lately has been triggering. I was bullied for most of my junior years in secondary school. I remember begging my parents to take me out, but that was a legacy school for my family and if my elder brothers could bear it, why couldn’t I just “rise above”? I still haven’t forgiven them for this and I think they know it.
Unfortunately, by the time I became a senior, I turned into what I hated. I don’t think it was on purpose, but it’s not an excuse. I remember it only hit me in my final year when I slapped a junior and realised I had changed for worse. I can’t blame it all on the school because I had a choice, but I know I still have residual anger issues that I’ll have to sort out over time. A part of me is still very mean.
Chime, 26
I had this senior in secondary school who would always demand my provisions until one day, I decided to stop giving them to him. I remember he made me squat continuously from 10 p.m to 3 a.m the next day, even though I had classes that morning. I was just 14-years-old at the time. Punishments like this continued and my grades suffered for the entire year. There was also another guy who made me pay ₦6,000 for the chain he misplaced while he was flogging me. It’s crazy. I told my mother who reported to the housemaster but the school did nothing, and reporting just increased my suffering. I never spoke about it again.
Osas, 35
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to the realisation that as men, we’re always trying to “outman” each other. I don’t know where this feeling came from, but I know it’s there. I hate to admit it, but in boarding school, I was a terrible person. I was the senior whose name caused fear among junior students. I was bullied too, and every time I was hit, I promised myself that I would get revenge.
We went through these things with the hope that when we got to a position of power, we’d do the same (or worse). It’s also a very Nigerian thing where you want to be rich just so you can show other people pepper. Do I regret it? Yes. But It’s too late to start fixing things from the past, so I’ve moved on.
Prince, 29
For me, it was a rite of passage. The bullying in my time wasn’t really violent — it was more about chores. I remember having to fetch water, wash and iron my senior’s clothes, which was considered normal. And when I became a senior myself, I made my juniors do the same thing. I wasn’t a violent bully hitting people or depriving them of their food sha. However, I did hear a story of a senior who pressed a steam iron on a younger student’s chest.
Joe, 22
For me it was the time a senior asked me to lie down in a room that was being dusted, knowing fully well that I had asthma. I think I was about 12-years-old and he had summoned me, but no one told me. As if that wasn’t enough, after a while, he dragged me up, applied olive oil on his palm and just slapped me repeatedly until I passed out. I remember waking up in the hospital, but the worst part, the school’s nurse didn’t believe my story. The school later found out and compelled him to dig a hole his height. Please, what sort of punishment is that? Why couldn’t they just expel him?
David, 28
I’m a femme presenting man, so bullying and abuse is something I’ve gotten used to overtime. I remember it started in primary school when other kids used to taunt me, calling me names like “woman wrapper”. It was so bad that even when I finally caved in to perform masculine activities like playing football, these kids still didn’t give me a chance. They dragged me and threw the ball at me. It was a terrible experience.
Throughout primary and secondary school, I was made to feel less than I am, so I chose to bury myself in books. It’s so bad that I still get uncomfortable and scared anytime I see a group of boys gathered in one place. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to let go of my change in the bus because I’m scared I’d be attacked for having a tiny voice.
Lanre, 26
The bullying starts right at the beginning of your first year in school. I was 12 years-old and at the bottom of the food chain which automatically made me a prey. Some senior was in charge of assigning junior students to seniors slavery-style and he selected me to be one of his subjects. I would fetch his water, wash his clothes and hand him my provisions every term. He was smart enough not to beat me as that could raise suspicion. We didn’t report these things because we knew we’d be seniors too one day and there were teachers who flat out told us to deal with it.
I’m glad I got a lot of love from home which made me realise that it wasn’t a “me” thing. Looking back, it’s just a tiny part of my life and it didn’t leave that much of an impact on me.
What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.
Today’s Man Like is Michael Ejoor, an actor and singer known for his roles on AfricaMagic’s Tinsel and Unbroken.
In this episode of Man Like, he talks about dealing with paralysis as a child, being bullied in secondary school and how that sent him into depression, surviving a devastating suicide attempt and how his job helps him escape his problems.
Can you tell me about a moment from your childhood that stood out to you?
When I was six, I got diagnosed with something called Guillain-Barre syndrome. It’s a disease that affects the central nervous system, so I was paralysed for over a year.
What? I’m so sorry.
When I look back, I realise my paralysis was a gradual process. It started when my teachers complained about my handwriting becoming harder to read. I couldn’t hold my pencils properly. Then before I knew It, I started limping.
Didn’t your parents notice?
I remember my mum telling my dad that I was limping at the time, but he was so busy, I don’t think he took it seriously. When he spoke to me about it, I also told it wasn’t serious. It wasn’t until I couldn’t walk or use my arms completely that it finally hit us all that it was real.
Damn. So how did you guys cope?
My mum was really scared. I don’t think I’d ever seen her cry so much in my entire life. As a proper Nigerian mother, she called pastors and all sorts of people to pray for or pray with me. There were so many pastors coming in and out of our house, it was insane. I was always on the floor with people joining hands in a circle and praying for me.
How about your dad?
He didn’t really show a lot of emotion in public at the time, but I’m sure he must’ve in private. He put on a brave face for the family.
Suddenly not being able to walk must have been tough for you as a child.
Oh yes. At the time I loved playing football and it crushed me every time I saw people playing football while I sat in a wheelchair. I mean, a part of me was hopeful that I’d walk again, but it still hurt not being able to do so at that moment.
How were you able to walk again?
Something interesting happened. My family moved to Germany and were there for almost a year consulting with doctors. I was poked and prodded, and I think they even put me on a clinical trial at some point. To be honest, they did a lot before they gave up and decided that I should be moved to a care home. According to their tests, there was no life in my legs, which meant no hope.
Ah?
At that point, I was also sick and tired of being in a hospital. Even though they had given up on me, I knew I was going to walk again.
So you didn’t move to the care home?
No. I randomly started walking again.
What! How?
We were in our flat in Munich, and my little sisters were playing with my wheelchair. For some reason, I just really wanted to push it with them. I still don’t have an explanation for it to this day, but I just got up and took a few steps. Obviously, they weren’t strong and I had to hold on to the wall for support, but they were steps nonetheless. And from then on, I just started to practice and learn how to walk. I grew up a firm believer in God, and I believe he changed my story. The doctors had even said it’d affect my brain and I wouldn’t be able to process things, but I ended up graduating with a first-class in university, and here I am chatting away and being an absolute nuisance.
Ah mad! How did your parents react when they found out?
I can’t express how happy they were. LOL.
There was a glitch where I stopped walking the day we were supposed to fly back to Nigeria, and my mum didn’t shake. She was like, “You’ve walked before; you’ll walk again.”
Tell me about your parents. What’s your relationship with them like?
I’m my mum’s only son, so my mum and I are close. She’s so cool. I was 15 the first time I went to a club, and I didn’t sneak out because she just let me go. Years later, I asked her why she did that, and she said she knew she had raised me well.
I didn’t connect much with my dad growing up. He was just this guy I called “dad”. We’re cool now though.
How did that happen?
I honestly don’t know. It was almost like we just started talking one day and never stopped. I think I grew up and realised what being a Nigerian man was like and understood how men were raised to exist in a certain way. For example, how many people have heard the words “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” from their fathers? Everybody puts up their dad’s picture on father’s day, but if you ask them about things that have to do with one-on-one time, a majority don’t have that. People just expect fathers to be that way.
I also figured that if I wanted a relationship with this man, I had to be open to understanding where he was coming from.
That’s deep. Still on fatherhood and by extension manhood, can you tell me about a turning point in your life that defined your idea of what manhood means?
I would say coming to terms with my mental health struggles. I’m clinically diagnosed with depression, and I’ve had to live on anti-depressants for many years.
I’m sorry. When did you get your diagnosis?
I got diagnosed in 2011 when I was 23 years old. It started when I went to boarding school in Nigeria and was bullied heavily. One time, I was literally thrown down a flight of stairs, and another time, someone put a knife to my neck.
That’s insane.
It really affected me and changed my outlook on life. I would wake up and wish I had died in my sleep. My parents started wondering why my mood was erratic and why I stayed away from other people. I had moments where I would constantly just sit in the dark and there were other times where I cut myself. But they didn’t find out why. I was on antidepressants for over five years.
I’ll say coming to terms with my struggles helped me define my manhood. It helped me understand that I didn’t have to be strong; I could break if I needed to.
You spoke about growing up christian. How did this affect your diagnosis?
People are told that as soon as you find Jesus, your life will be perfect. But even Jesus admits that we will go through troubles. I don’t walk around thinking because I’m a Christian everything will work out for me. But one thing I’ve come to understand is, when there’s a setback, I’ll be better for it in the end and there’s a reason it’s happening.
We decided I should see a professional when I attempted suicide.
I’m so sorry about that.
It’s all right. I was in a bad place. I did crack, got drunk and overdosed on a bunch of pills. They had to pump my stomach to take out over 40 pills. I was so embarrassed because when I woke up, the first face I saw was my mother’s. You’d expect panic, fear or disappointment, but her face was blank. I couldn’t help but think of all the emotions she had gone through before this. The look on her face hurt more than anything. To be honest, I was also thinking, “Why didn’t this work so it’ll all be over?”
It can’t be easy going through this and holding on to a career that demands that you throw yourself into a wide variety of emotions over and over again. How do you cope?
I tell myself I’m normal. Society and my mind might try to tell me otherwise, but I’m normal. Nature has just made me super hyper-attuned with my emotions. There are times when handling everything gets really difficult. I had a mental breakdown which led to a seizure right before a premiere once. I should have stayed back home, but I told myself, “Pick yourself up.” In the end, I left the premiere giddy, without the burden of what I had previously experienced.
Looking at that night, I will say my work helps me manage my depression. I love being an actor; I escape the noise in my head when I become someone else.
That’s an interesting way to experience work. We’ve spoken about navigating your career, how about relationships?
Omo, I just ate breakfast recently. I haven’t been very lucky with relationships.
Ah! Why?
LMAO. Maybe I have a bad character.
Lol. But seriously, why?
I think it’s the right person, wrong timing. I also feel like I have commitment issues. That’s all I will say
Hopefully your future bae doesn’t see this.
Please, they should read it and know now. LOL.
You did an interview with Funmi Iyanda where you went public with your mental health story. Coming from a society where this isn’t really talked about, how did that feel?
It was scary. I almost pulled out that day, but I’m a man of my word and that’s the only reason I went through with it. I was scared that people would treat me differently once they found out. I was also scared it would affect my career.
In retrospect, I would do it over and over again. I saw all the people it helped and to be honest, I haven’t gotten any negative backlash, at least not to my face. Yes, one day it might come up when someone is trying to drag me, but I don’t care. The feedback I’ve gotten so far is that Nigerians can be kind.
For my final question, I’d like to know your greatest fear.
My greatest fear is never making an impact despite all the things I’ve had to go through in life. I don’t want to believe I’d go through everything in my life for it to not have any meaning. God please.
As Nigerians, especially men, talking about your feelings or addressing mental health issues don’t always come naturally. Thanks to years of social and religious conditioning, we have been taught to either stay silent or seek spiritual solutions to our problems. With the world slowly changing to allow for open conversations, Zikoko spoke to five young Nigerian men in their 20s about their experiences with therapy and what they’ve learned (if they learned anything at all).
Caleb, 22
I have been in therapy for eight months. I realized earlier this year that I no longer wanted to be alive. I didn’t want to kill myself, but I silently prayed for death. I had to go in for therapy based on my professor’s suggestion. We had taken a random Beck’s Depression Inventory (BDI) test in class and it showed that I had a severe case of depression. I have to admit that it was weird at first – you’re essentially opening yourself up to a stranger, but I’m glad it passed.
One thing I’ve learned is that therapy isn’t a quick fix. It’s given me a sense of self-awareness that I have to keep putting in the work if I want to see changes. Before therapy, I had told my family how I was feeling but they couldn’t help interrogate what was wrong in the way I needed. We (men) haven’t been raised in a society that doesn’t understands how complex the mind is. Whenever there’s a suicide report or awareness about men’s mental health, we talk about paying attention, but people aren’t even learning to listen to their friends talk. Worse, we’re not learning to respond appropriately.
Somadina, 26
I felt the need to see a therapist because I knew I needed to talk to a professional, a stranger that wouldn’t judge me. I suffer from depression and was once suicidal. Despite all of this, I couldn’t make it past two sessions because I couldn’t connect with my therapist at all. I remember talking to her about being an only child and she told me to go out and make new friends. Ma’am, I have friends and in case you’ve forgotten, we’re in a panini. Before therapy, and even now, I found it hard to talk to people about my issues because they’d either judge me or add to my problems. Some might even think you’re being dramatic or you’re overthinking things. My two sessions showed me that therapists aren’t problem solvers; this doesn’t mean that I’ve given up. I’m currently on the lookout for a new therapist.
Daniel, 25
Let me start by saying I’m a pastor’s kid and the first male child in an Igbo family, that alone is cause for therapy. As Nigerians, we are taught to swallow our pain, cast all our cares on an “Almighty God” and not bring shame to our families. Between 2015 and 2017, I attempted suicide about five times. My friends connected me with my first therapist after they got wind of my last attempt. However, I couldn’t make it past one session with my first therapist as she started with prayers, suggesting that I pray to God to “take away” my sexuality. Thankfully, I found another therapist, a queer man who helped me navigate my life for the six months I was in therapy. Going to therapy helped me accept my sexuality and learn how to extend grace to people to learn and unlearn. I am currently considering going back to therapy to handle the weight of my life.
Jamal, 27
While I’ll say I’ve always had a pretty good life, I had to consider therapy when I realized I was always sad and only a hair’s breadth from bursting into tears. I’ve been going for six months now; I saw a clinical psychologist for three months but I wasn’t getting better so I switched to an actual psychiatrist. I wouldn’t say I’ve learned anything new, the entire process is just boring AF! I thought I’d unearth some profound truth about myself, but it hasn’t been the case. People see it as this inherently good thing even when it’s not entirely necessary. That’s not to say I haven’t benefited from it though, it’s just not as life-changing as I thought. Also, I have to keep going if I want them to keep giving me antidepressants.
Kelechi, 27
I’ve been going to therapy on and off for about three years now. I was suffering from debilitating anxiety and I would hyperventilate a lot. I also had issues accepting my queerness because I didn’t fit in with the LGBTQ+ community and there were hard times in my relationship with my family. I’ve had two therapists so far, but I had to leave the first one because I felt we were a little bit too similar. She didn’t challenge me much and I needed someone to call me out on my bullshit. While my new therapist talks too much, he’s helped me understand the importance of addressing conflicts immediately they arise. It’s nice to have someone that challenges me and I can’t get mad at him because it’s his job.
Take a second, think deeply, and ask yourself: how many times have you been completely honest when answering the question “How are you?” The truth is, our regular responses to this question tend to be reflex answers, not sincere ones. So think again; if you’re doing this, chances are, your guys are probably doing it too.
With the world (and Nigeria in particular) constantly moving mad, we need to check on each other beyond social media bants. Here are five ways to intentionally check up on the men in your life.
Hit them up with something they’re interested in: As we said before, “how are you?” has casted. One of the best ways to truly gauge how your friend is feeling is by having general, everyday conversations with them. You know what he likes, right? DM him memes that get him going, ask his thoughts about something he’s passionate about, send him Twitter beef; basically, try to make the conversation as normal as possible. From the flow of your conversation, you might be able to tell if something is up, which allows you to ask about his well being without it feeling like an ambush.
Create time to see them in person: So many times we’ve sent texts and the receiver either exaggerated or downplayed our feelings because, well, they can’t see us. While your friend might text you back that he’s “good,” it would be harder to lie to you in person. Call him up and tell him you’re bringing food over (almost always works), ask to borrow his gamepad, offer to buy him drinks, just make sure you’re able to hang out with him. During your time together, you might just pick up on something a text wouldn’t have shown you.
Don’t be afraid to open up first: It is safe to assume that we are all going through it at the moment. One way or the other, life is showing us pepper. Another surefire way to get your friend to open up is by opening up yourself. It’s hard to be vulnerable with someone who looks like they have their shit together. So let your friend know you’re struggling too, no matter how small you think that struggle is. However, it’s important not to do too much that you forget why you’re there in the first place. Your friend could see you in a new light and feel compelled to share.
Listen. You don’t always have to offer a solution: So he has opened up to you, what next? It’s human nature to immediately start offering advice, but remember, sometimes all people need is someone to listen to them. Giving him what you assume to be a solution might just make matters worse (unless you’re sure as hell that your plan is solid). The best thing to do is listen, tell him you understand (even if you don’t, yet), and reassure him that he has your support. Don’t be extra or over the top. To feel heard and understood helps validate someone’s experiences and feelings, so the best way to react might be not to offer advice or opinions unless specifically asked.
Give them space, but remind them you’re there: If there’s one thing men hate, is the feeling of suffocation. You can’t force someone to open up to you; they may be working on it in their own way. Also, sometimes men just don’t want to talk about their mental health. The important thing is that you stick around and maintain an open channel so they’ll find you when they’re ready to talk.
We know it’s hard to do all of these things while dealing with your personal shit. But the truth is if we don’t look out for our mandem, who will?
NB: We do not claim expertise on mental health diagnosis. If you feel overwhelmed and stressed out mentally such that if affects your normal daily functions, you might want to see a mental health professional.
Mental stressors can be major or minor, but all the same not so easy to identify. Take this quiz now to find out what they could be for you.
Hey…
Do you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, stressed and generally anxious all the time? Sometimes, you can’t even aptly describe this feeling to someone else. Yet, it just won’t go away. Don’t beat yourself up, people deal with stressors differently. If you need support, reach out. A therapist is waiting to listen to you.
Simply download Nguvu Health app for android and iOS to get started.
Here’s what you get on the app:
Free Screenings for Depression, Anxiety, PTSD etc. You can download the app here.
Free access to rant rooms to share and get things off your chest.
Affordable therapy (N3,000 for one-week text therapy).
Men are constantly struggling under the weight of social expectations and other pressures, which ends up affecting their mental health. While more men are dropping toxic masculinity tropes like not showing affection to their friends, there’s still a long way to go in making affectionate male relationships a norm. Checking in on your guy goes a long way in helping them through tough times. Here are 7 texts you can send to your bros to see how they are doing.
1. “Just checking in on you bro. Are you good?”
A simple message like this can help your bros open up to you about stuff, which might be all he needed
2. “How have you been? Don’t just say fine; I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
Your guy might need a little more prodding to open up. This passes a simple but reassuring message.
3. “Just making sure you’re good bro. I know we’ve not talked in a while.”
Great for your Man Dem who you’ve not been communicating with regularly. You might just give updates on what’s been going on in your lives.
4. “Hey bro, I’m just letting you know I’m here for you. You’re never alone.”
Sometimes, all your brother needs is reassurance that he’s got someone in his corner.
5. “I love you, bro. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you during this time.”
Everyone goes through tough times and sometimes all he might need is your support.
6. “I know you got a lot going on, how you holding up?”
Regular check-ins during trying periods might be the best way to let them know that they’re not alone.
7. “I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
This might be all they need to hear to get through their rough patch.
That moment when you hit your head on your pillow at night, and think of your day, life, goals. How do you feel? Sometimes, it’s inexplicable and being faced with all of these mental health myths and whatnot doesn’t help matters.
Here are 5 of the most common myths. Hopefully, they all die by fire because this is not even funny.
1. Only those who don’t pray hard enough get depressed
Why dis? One can’t just “pray” depression away. Being able to admit that you struggle with mental health issues, does not make one less of a religious person.
2. Depression is a white man’s disease
Climes might be different, but we all face collective challenge as it relates to the mind and well-being. Can we dead this narrative, abeg?
3. Panic attacks are just people being dramatic
Wait till it happens to you in a public place and your whole body starts shaking. Nobody likes to go through that even for cruise oh.
4. Only those who are crazy see therapists
Look see it this way: just as you see a doctor when you feel ill in your body, so also should you reach out for professional support when it comes to matters of the mind. You don’t have to be kolo, therapy is a lifestyle.
5. “Real men” don’t get depressed
Talmabout real men, until someone’s son will jump inside well. Men and women go experience mental illness alike plis. It doesn’t make anyone less of anything.
Hey…
If you’re always feeling exhausted and overwhelmed for no traceable reason or due to an unenjoyable work-life, you’re not alone. If you need support, reach out. A therapist is waiting to listen to you.
Download Nguvu Health app (android and iOS) now or take free (depression, Anxiety, PTSD) screening here.
Here’s what you get:
Free screenings on the app which you can download here.
Affordable therapy (N3,000 for one week text therapy)
The Twitter ban in Nigeria affects Nigerians in many different ways. From business owners to already marginalised groups. So, these seven Nigerians talk about how the Twitter ban in Nigeria affects their mental health.
Jane
It’s just not the Twitter ban in Nigeria per se, it’s the general state of Nigeria. Everything about this country is so bad. The future is so uncertain because I don’t have the money to relocate. I am just anxious and I don’t know what is going to happen to all of us. I am not doing okay.
Anita
The ban is affecting me deeply. I usually open this app impulsively to just say whatever is on my mind and to vent, but I can’t do that anymore. The VPN is messing with my other apps, so it is like a tiny inconvenience that’s giving me a serious tension headache.
Peace
I’m fully aware of the fact that this country will move mad and I need to get the fuck out of here with immediate alacrity because one small declaration can destabilise my entire life. I have three remote jobs. An internet shutdown means I’d be unable to work, and I might lose my job or lose hours ( I charge per hour) and my employers would be unable to trust that I can do the job, through no fault of mine.
I’m literally scared. Freedom of speech is so important – I even have an entire business and product I’m building around it and plan to launch in 2022. It would wreck all my sources of income.
Tolu
The fact that the possibility of being able to japa for my family is ridiculously low has me stressed. I’m scared and I’ve been upset at my parents because when we had the opportunity to leave, my dad turned it down. Now, we’re here.
Amaka
My parents are not urgent about leaving, and I feel like I’m being paranoid or overreacting. We can leave if we want to, but they’re just praying for the best and whatnot. It stresses me out.
Kunle
It’s definitely made me more agitated. Now that there’s a Twitter ban in Nigeria, I’m constantly worrying about what they are going to come for next. I’m worried that if we lose Twitter, we’ve lost all our free speech. Twitter is the only place we can disseminate information without any arbitrary regulatory body sanctioning us. I’m very scared of what will come next.
Daniel
Before the Twitter ban, I was on a Twitter cleanse because I was spending too much time on the app. I also work a lot on Twitter so I needed to get off the app. Since I was already off for a few weeks, the ban didn’t affect me in the sense that they were taking something I needed away from me. It affected me in the sense that I’m actually in Nigeria where a minister can order that the people’s rights be taken from them and the order will be executed. It’s scary.
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Living with a mental health condition affects different parts of our lives in many ways. In this article, we asked Nigerian women how their mental health affects their romantic relationships. Here’s what 11 of them had to say:
Bisola, 24
I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety in 2017. Since then, my relationships have never been the same. My partners complain about me not being present. Whenever I get sad, it helps me to disassociate from everything until I can’t anymore but it’s hard to keep relationships like that. Most people can’t stay till I come out and that sends me into another spiral. I don’t blame them though — no one wants an emotionally unavailable partner. It’s hard to show you’re in love when you feel empty inside. Everyone wants a partner who’ll meet them halfway but I don’t even have 50% to give myself talk more of to give another person. My last relationship just ended because of the same reason.
Tomi, 23
In 2017, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder. This means that I fluctuate between mania and catatonia. As a result, I tend to ghost people because interacting can be quite hard for me sometimes. Before I would disappear without saying anything but it’s been frustrating for people in my life. Everyone wants to be that person everyone knows they can always talk to — to be a safe space, but the reality of it is when people see you in a manic phase about to cut yourself, they realize it’s not just love and light. That’s when most people realize they can’t deal with it anymore and they check out. My last relationship ended because they saw me trying to cut myself, and within a week, we were over.
Ivie, 26
I live with chronic depression, which means I am often suicidal. Whenever I get a terrible depressive episode, I want to hide from the world and this makes being in relationships harder than usual. I try to talk about it with my partners but they don’t understand. They always think I should be able to snap out of it and be happy. I try to perform happiness even on my worst days because I don’t want to ruin things but that only makes me resentful.
Living with chronic depression also means that sometimes when things are going great with a guy I like, I get worried that he will run away from me because of my mental illness. So I run before he runs. I tell myself that it’s for the best and I won’t get hurt, but it still hurts. Knowing I might never be able to have love is one of the most painful things I have had to live with.
Aima, 30
I live with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I have known this for about a year now. I am a doctor and one day at work, I was complaining to a colleague that I was depressed. I was suicidal even though I didn’t think I had any reason to be. Work and my ageing parents were the only things keeping me going. She asked a few questions and asked me to observe when I feel better and when my mood dips. I did that and I realized that almost like clockwork I start feeling low for no reason about a week to my period and for the whole duration of it. It turned out that it is actually a medical condition that is commonly missed in patients but thanks to my colleague we had a diagnosis.
Knowing doesn’t make it easier though. I hate my antidepressants because it makes it difficult for me to function at work so I tend to skip them. I get irritable around my period and I snap at my fiance — sometimes I don’t want to speak to him. Initially, we fought a lot because he would get frustrated with me when his efforts to make me happy failed — buying food, sending money, cracking a joke, etc. Recently, I explained to him that I feel like I’m not in control of my life for those 10-13 days every month and he would have to be patient with me. Also, I let him know when it gets bad so when I’m crying, he knows how to support me. Last week, I discussed feeling suicidal with him and he didn’t judge or ask unnecessary questions. He reaffirmed his love and stayed on the phone with me until I slept off. When it gets bad, I take my antidepressants in the evening. Every month is a different journey but having a supportive partner and knowing what’s happening to me makes it bearable. The upside is knowing it lasts a few days and I’ll get a break.
I never know when to disclose this information to someone new — I don’t want to scare the person away. A lot of people don’t understand it so after I tell them, they start to pull away and I can’t blame them. Then there are the ones that want to change me — they think if I were more positive, I’d be fine.
When I had depressive episodes in a relationship, it was hard to manage it without making the other person feel like they are the problem. I also have to help them understand that they are not responsible for my moods. Sex triggers me so I always have to explain that. Most of the people I have been with have been gracious during the sex but they usually come back to ask questions, wondering if they caused it. It can get stressful for me.
Vowhero, 33
I wouldn’t say I have a mental illness but I have trauma that keeps replaying in my head and makes me push the people I love away. Sometimes I can smell the first person that molested me. I was 6 when it happened. I have also been raped three times so sometimes when I am having sex with someone I love, I get triggered by their movements or their smell. People don’t understand that when my mood switches to fear, I would want to distance myself from them.
Sometimes, I wake up crying from a horrible dream or screaming until the person beside me wakes me up. My ex broke up with me because of that — he said I was too dramatic. I also don’t cuddle my lovers as much as I would like. After sex, I leave the room because I can’t have body contact yet. Some days are good and I don’t experience all of this but on other days, it can be difficult. I have seen a therapist and I think there has been an improvement so far. I am still scared of enjoying a good time though, but I hope that changes soon.
I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because of a traumatic childhood. In 2019, I was in the only relationship I have ever been in. I was quite insecure — I had low self-esteem and chronic mood swings. My ex made everything worse by emotionally abusing me. He would never compliment means it triggered my insecurity. One time, he told me he has dated more light-skinned women than dark-skinned women. It hurt because I am a dark-skinned woman. I didn’t love myself enough to walk away from it. I used to check his phone and I was also clingy. After we broke up, I realized I was too insecure to be in a relationship. My ex was a shitty person but if I was healthy, I wouldn’t have even dated him. I believed no one could love me because there was no affection in the home I grew up in. I was so desperate for him to love me that when he cheated on me, I went back to him. I went to therapy earlier this year and it has helped me realize a lot of things so I know I am getting better.
Zainab, 31
I live with severe depression and I distance myself whenever I have episodes. Although this makes my lover feel weird, he understands and gives me space but I know it bothers him. My ex-boyfriend called it mood swings and I broke up with him immediately. When I am experiencing a depressive episode, I start thinking the absolute worst and I say things like, “don’t be too sad if I go.” My boyfriend gets worried but when I feel better, I reassure him that I’m okay. I am also seeking help so I know I will be fine.
Farida, 25
I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and the thing about this illness is that everything makes me worry. I found out this year and everything started to make sense. I realized why I could never fully open up to anyone or allow myself to fall in love because of that lurking “what if” thought. It’s a struggle, especially when you’re a hopeless romantic like me.
After six years since my first heartbreak, I finally let myself fall in love again but it’s difficult when my mind keeps giving me reasons why the relationship should end. Every day I am in a battle with myself — I remind myself that this man is good for me and my fears are irrational. The most difficult part is that my partner doesn’t know about my disorder. He encourages me to talk about any worries I have and that causes me to worry too — what if he gets tired of listening to my worries? I am not comfortable talking about it yet. It’s one thing to say, “I’m worried about something” and another to say, “I have a thinking disorder.”
When I go to his house, I have to hide to take my drugs because I’m not ready for the conversation. I am afraid of what he will think of me when I tell him. I find it difficult to express myself the way I want because I keep thinking that he may realise that I am a fraud and I lack confidence. When we’re having sex, I can’t have an orgasm because I am wondering if I smell good or if he likes what he sees or if he actually enjoying or just faking it. It’s a never-ending loop and I really wish it would stop but even therapy doesn’t help. The only way is to end this beautiful relationship of mine.
Onyinye, 28
I have been sad for a long time. When I was in university, I went to therapy but I don’t think it helped. In my service year, when I had started working, sadness became worse. I would cry for hours and some days I want to be in bed all day. My relationship at the time was two years old and it was all fights and arguments. We tried until 2018 when I started self-harming and I had to seek professional help. I started therapy and medication but my ex wasn’t getting better in his attitude. To make things worse, my sexual desires died — we would have sex and I won’t feel a thing. Some days, I would get into depressive episodes that would make me stay in bed all day and he wouldn’t call to check on me. Sometimes he’d say I enjoyed being depressed and that I use my depression for attention. Eventually, I found out he was cheating with his friend but he was convinced I was the one cheating. When the relationship ended, I realized he was a big trigger and slowly my drug doses were reduced.
I have tried to date again but the truth is not a lot of people want to do the work to help you through it. Everyone starts off saying they understand but after one or two episodes, they switch up. Also, my libido is still low — I am hardly ever interested in sex and most men don’t understand that.
Amarachi, 28
I was diagnosed with chronic Anxiety, Attention Deficit Disorder and bipolar depression eight years ago. I have been to a number of mental health hospitals in the US and I also went to rehab. After I got out of long term mental health care, I started talking to my present boyfriend. He does not express emotions with words and I did not want to date him in the beginning because I was still trying to adjust to a lot of medication but these days, he is more compassionate. He understands how anxiety can make me seem self-absorbed. He is also African and he wasn’t raised to understand these things so we learn together.
When we first started reconnecting, I had to go back to another institution because I was suicidal again and didn’t want to get to the point of an attempt. He walked to my house and waited outside for me the day I returned. One time, he helped me pay for therapy when my dad and I were having issues. Being bipolar means there are times I have intense depressive episodes or extra energy and lack of focus. When I feel depression coming, I tell my boyfriend so we can adjust our plans. Sometimes, he picks up on the high anxiety or mania and will check in to make sure I’m not falling off my tasks. He tries to keep me entertained so I don’t get too hyper. So far, my mental health has been a way for us to be more considerate of each other.
For an essential service and integral part of our fundamental human rights, accessing mental health care can be quite expensive. This often discourages most people from seeking out help. People with suicidal ideation, who are in dire need of accessing mental health professionals, find themselves without the crucial help they need.
According to Nigeria’s mental health law – The Lunacy Act of 1958 – attempted suicide is a criminal offence punishable by jail time. If any of the participants in this piece had been caught by or reported to the police, they would’ve faced jail time instead of empathy, mental healthcare and dignifying community-based support.
As part of a four-part series in partnership with She Writes Woman Mental Health Initiative, we spoke to two Nigerians who dealt with suicide ideation and have had difficulty accessing mental healthcare in Nigeria. To commemorate Mental Health Awareness Month, we highlight the challenges Nigerians face in trying to access mental healthcare and the systemic barriers in Nigeria.
TW: Suicide
Laura
When I was 17, I was diagnosed with glaucoma. I only found out when my second eye was getting affected. I was in a higher institution and this devastated me. I was told that I would have to do surgery on both eyes. I thought I was going to lose my sight. This, along with issues I was facing at home drove me into a severe depression but I didn’t even know it. I was just always sad and felt like living was useless. Some of the medications I was taking gave me temporary asthma and I found that I couldn’t smell occasionally. I also suddenly became allergic to anything that had alcohol. I fainted during a field trip to a toxicology lab because of the presence of alcohol. It was the most depressing point of my life.
I started having a lot of suicidal thoughts due to my situation and it was at this point I realised that I needed help. I tried looking for mental healthcare professionals but had no idea how to go about it. I found a platform online that promised the help I needed but they were asking for N5000 – N7000 per hour of therapy. I tried talking to friends about my condition but all they told me was that I wasn’t religious enough and I had to be strong enough to face trials in life. This made me withdraw from them because I was unable to share my troubles without getting a lecture about how I should remain strong.
I was also hesitant about going to a guidance counsellor in school because I was worried that they would make me feel inadequate. I eventually resorted to self-help. I did a lot of research on mental health on the internet, reading about mental health conditions and depression. I related with other people who were depressed and found an online community that helped me navigate my way to recovery. I joined several mental health forums online that were very helpful in helping me recover. I began to see depression as a condition that happened to more people than I thought and I felt less weird about being depressed.
I have not fully recovered from depression but I know I’m on the road to recovery and I’ve reached a point where I can share my stories with others. The difficulty in accessing mental health support motivated me to start helping people with mental health conditions. I’ve been there and I know what depression and suicidal ideation feels like so I’m driven to help people who still live with depression. I want to let them know that their feelings are valid and that help is just a phone call away. No one should have to experience what I went through in search of mental health care.
Timi
It all started with my parents. Growing up, my dad was very strict. To date, I’m still scared of him and find it hard to talk to him. I was closer to my mom. She was quite harsh too, but she was my mother. My dad was very hard on her so she would transfer the aggression to us.
My dad’s favourite was my younger sister and my mom preferred my older brother, so I was their least favourite. I was mostly alone in the family. When I was in primary five, I ran away from home because my mom threatened to tell my dad about a mistake I made and I knew I was in trouble. I ran to a friend’s place, hoping her mom would help talk to my parents. She took me home and spoke to them. They pretended like all was fine. I still have the scars from the beating I received that day. I’ve been a loner since then, prone to crying every day and withdrawing from everyone.
In my second year, I was tired of everything; school wasn’t working for me, I was having issues with my boyfriend and I was broke. I wanted to kill myself but couldn’t bring myself to go through with it.
The first time I attempted suicide was during the semester break. I had opted to stay in school rather than go home for the holidays, as usual. I ended up in the hospital for a while. There were other attempts after that.
I couldn’t easily access professional help because of how expensive it was. At some point, I started talking to a psychologist online but it wasn’t consistent. I still struggle with suicidal thoughts and I hope I’m able to get the help soon.
_____
In Nigeria’s commitment to international human rights treaties and in line with the Disability Rights Act of 2018, people with mental health conditions and psychosocial disabilities should ideally have access to free and quality mental healthcare. This is sadly not the case for the majority of Nigerians.
Timi has been reached by Safe Place Nigeria, SWW’s online community where you can access daily counselling and support. You can access Safe Place Nigeria’s services for N5000 per quarter (3 months).
She Writes Woman addresses expensive access to mental health care with Safe Place Nigeria, a closed virtual community hosted on Facebook Groups that provides deeper engagement to mental health-conscious Nigerians via daily access to mental health professionals, exclusive self-care tools, content, resources, events, and wellness practices. Safe Place Nigeria is accessible for as low as N5,000 per quarter (3 months). People who genuinely need mental health support, but cannot afford it and are committed to engaging with the community, can apply for a scholarship.
People living with mental health conditions and psychosocial disabilities in Nigeria continue to be subjected to varying levels of human rights abuses across state-owned and otherwise owned facilities. She Writes Woman and Zikoko continue to document and amplify the lived experiences of these victims in a bid to hold the Nigerian government accountable to ensuring human rights-respecting mental health legislation in Nigeria.
Do you have a story of abuse in state-owned, religious or traditional facilities? Reach out to @shewriteswoman across social media or send an email to hello@shewriteswoman.org
If you’d like to get confidential support for your mental health, call the 24/7 toll-free helpline – 0800 800 2000.
Abuse in mental health institutions is not a new phenomenon. Reports of abuse emanate from care institutions nationwide. This is worsened by the fact that there are thousands of unregistered mental health institutions which often use unorthodox methods in the treatment of patients. The case isn’t any different in government-run institutions where practitioners operate unsupervised and unchecked, leading to several instances of human rights abuses.
To commemorate Mental Health Awareness Month, I spoke to Remi, a former patient of the psychiatric ward at the Lagos University Teaching Hospital, Idi-Araba as part of a four-part series in partnership with She Writes Woman Mental Health Initiative highlighting human right abuses of people with mental health conditions in Nigeria.
My name is Remi, and I’m a student at the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital. In 2019, I was diagnosed with depression and suicide ideation. I went to see a doctor after seeing symptoms of what I assumed was Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD).
What were the symptoms?
I was unable to focus on things. In class, I always zoned out or fell asleep. I had to cram to pass exams and I’d forget everything I read right after.
I also had problems socially. I always preferred to keep to myself, and didn’t have any friends. My roommates tried to make friends with me but I always rejected them. My temperament also estranged people from me. I got severely angry at the slightest trigger so people generally stayed away. On the inside, I was always angry, sad or just numb.
So what did the doctor do?
She wasn’t convinced that I had ADHD. She chalked all my symptoms to just being stressed. I was certain I had ADHD and I was determined to make her see. I mentioned in passing that I sometimes think about killing myself and she immediately referred me to LUTH’s Psychiatric ward to see a specialist.
At the psychiatric ward, I was diagnosed with severe depression with suicidal ideation and they refused to let me leave unless I called a relative. I refused. They called their intervention personnel — big, heavily-built men who they said would restrain me if I tried to make a scene. They threatened me to call my relatives or risk spending the weekend chained to a bed till Monday — it was a Friday.
Woah. Why didn’t you want to call a family member?
The only relatives I could call were my parents and I didn’t want them to think I had mental health issues. An uncle of mine lives with schizophrenia and I’ve always heard of them speak with him with a certain stigma. I didn’t want my parents to think I also had a mental health condition.
So, who did you call?
I called a doctor who worked at the NGO I volunteered for but unfortunately, she wasn’t in Lagos so I had to call my mom who called my dad. When they arrived, the nurses said I’ll need to be admitted. I lied to my parents that depression had to do with a gastrointestinal issue I had and told them I didn’t want to be admitted.
My parents told the nurses that I would not be getting admitted. They were made to sign a document in which they undertook to ensure I came for my clinic appointments.
I was prescribed some drugs for my depression and assigned to a psychologist. I used the drugs religiously and faithfully attended my appointments but my mental health worsened.
What happened next?
I was told I had to be admitted. They said I would be admitted for a period of two weeks. I knew that my condition was worsening but I was worried about missing school. My depressive episode had been triggered because I performed poorly in school and missing weeks of classes could make me carry some courses over into the next semester.
I eventually agreed to be admitted, thinking two weeks wasn’t so bad. I was promised that I would get help from a team of psychiatrists and psychologists who would see me every day. I knew I needed help so I agreed.
After I was admitted, a nurse told me that it was impossible for me to be admitted for just two weeks. She stated that the minimum time spent admitted was six weeks, and even that was a minimum. With severe depression, it was unlikely I’d even get out after six weeks. I hated the fact that I was lied to. Why did they have to? I would have agreed to be admitted, without needing to be lied to.
Wow. Did you at least get the help you were promised?
I was assigned a bed in an open ward filled with patients in varying severity of mental health conditions. I found it hard to sleep because there were no fans in the wards. There were also mosquitoes and the patient adjacent to my bed snored terribly loud.
Day after day, I waited to see a psychiatrist or psychologist but none came around. I was just given drugs and food every day. I was losing my mind in boredom because my phone and laptops were taken away. I had nothing else to do but eat and sleep. The medication they gave me made me very drowsy all the time, so I was taking a lot of naps. I was also not allowed to read because they said I have something called Brain Fog Syndrome. I was bored and fed up. On top of that, I wasn’t getting the treatment I was promised.
My mom came to visit daily with my favourite foods because I’m a picky eater. She’d also bring along my phone so I could text and watch movies while she was around. One time, she had a run-in with a nurse who was angry I didn’t eat hospital food. The nurse continued to be rude to my mother without provocation every day of my stay.
By the fifth day, a Friday, I could no longer take it. I demanded to be discharged from the hospital because I felt I was just wasting away, doing nothing but eating and sleeping while my mates were studying. I didn’t want to risk carrying a course over at school so I asked my mom to ask for my discharge. I explained everything to her and she agreed.
My mom asked for advice from a family friend who was a psychologist and she was told that I could go home as long as I attended my clinic days religiously. The nurses tried to discourage my mom from checking me out but she was determined. They threatened that if my mother took me home and I harmed myself, the blame would be on my mother. My mother and I insisted that I was lucid and was fit to attend the clinic from home.
She signed the required Discharge Against Medical Advice (DAMA) form and spoke to a resident doctor who impressed on her the implications of me going home before the conclusion of my treatment. The doctor reluctantly signed my release form and said I was good to go.
We handed the DAMA form to the nurses. They then refused to let me go because my dad was listed as my next-of-kin but it was my mother who came to request my discharge. The resident doctor said it was a tiny matter that could be overlooked but the nurses refused, saying my dad had to come in person. We begged and pleaded with them, stating that my dad was at work and wouldn’t be able to arrive till way past 6 pm, the closing time. That would have meant I’d have to spend the weekend at the facility since it was a Friday. They refused and insisted my dad come all the way to sign the form.
Against all odds, my dad made it there before six pm that evening. The nurses tried to discourage him as well, to the point of aggression but my dad had spoken to our psychologist friend who had told him there was no harm in me going home. I had a feeling the nurses were trying to delay till closing time in order to keep me there for the weekend.
Whew. So you went home, right?
Unfortunately, the officer to sign my final release papers had already gone home that evening. I was told I’d have to wait till the next morning before I could go home.
Wow.
My mother and younger brother begged and fought and pleaded for me to be released that night to be allowed home but the nurses disagreed. I told my parents to go home and come the next morning. My father did but my mother said it was already too late to go home and make the long trip back to the hospital again in the morning. She and my brother would sleep somewhere on the LUTH campus till it was time to fetch me. I tried to discourage her but she refused. She snuck me my phone to call her in case anything was wrong because she didn’t trust the nurses.
Wow. What happened next?
Miserably, I went back to my bed. Shortly after, one of the nurses came to me and said she suspected my mom had given me a phone. I denied it several times. She threatened to search my things, which she did. I had anticipated this so I had hidden the phone in my shirt. She continued to insist that she was sure I had a phone on me and would search my body. I pointedly refused, telling her she had no right to touch me. I anticipated that she would be back so I hid the phone in my panties.
She left and returned a moment later with one of the heavily-built crisis intervention personnel whom she ordered to handcuff me to the bed and restrain my legs while she searched me. I was screaming at her not to touch me but she did anyway. When she didn’t find it, she said she would have to search my privates and I screamed at her not to do it. She ordered the guard to hold my hands and legs while she stripped my pants off, in the full view of the male guard and the rest of the patients in the ward. She took my phone and left me on the ground, naked and screaming. I felt so violated that I didn’t know what to do but to keep screaming.
Oh my God. I’m so sorry.
Apparently, my screams were so loud that my mother and brother heard where they were and came running back to see what was wrong. They peered through the window and saw me handcuffed to the bed, screaming, naked and jerking at the cuffs violently. Their pleas to tell them what was wrong was left unanswered, as I could not just stop screaming for minutes on end. The nurses threatened to inject me with a sedative if I didn’t keep quiet.
My mother and brother tried to get into the ward but the nurses refused to let them in. They told them nothing and the nurses threatened to have my mother thrown out. She was heartbroken seeing me in that state.
Did no one try to intervene?
Eventually, a senior nurse from a different ward came to find out what was wrong. She spoke to my mom, went inside to see me and calmed the situation. My mom asked her to let us go home but the nurse said she could only help if she was given a bribe. My mom pleaded and said she would bring something for her the next day as she had no money on her. The nurse agreed and directed the junior nurses to let us go.
Did you try to report this incidence?
Report? What’s the point? This was something the nurses did regularly without consequences. My reporting wouldn’t have made any difference, especially as my family doesn’t “know anybody.”
How did you continue treatment?
I opted to continue treatment privately, which I found to be very expensive.
Remi is currently receiving private treatment, however expensive. She is continuing her education and finds joy volunteering as an advocate for mental health issues in Nigeria.
People living with mental health conditions and psychosocial disabilities in Nigeria continue to be subjected to varying levels of human rights abuses across state-owned and otherwise owned facilities. She Writes Woman and Zikoko continue to document and amplify the lived experiences of these victims in a bid to hold the Nigerian government accountable to ensuring human rights-respecting mental health legislation in Nigeria.
Do you have a story of abuse in state-owned, religious or traditional facilities? Reach out to @shewriteswoman across social media.
If you’ll like to get confidential support for your mental health, call the 24/7 toll-free helpline – 0800 800 2000.
May is Mental Health Awareness month, which is a time to raise awareness of trauma and the impact it can have on the physical, emotional, and mental well-being of people. Different factors affect our mental health without us knowing it. In this article, I asked seven Nigerian women about the things that affect their mental health. Here’s what they had to say:
Tolani
Every day on Twitter, I see something that makes me want to stay at home and never leave. These days, there are more incidents of kidnapping and it makes me scared. I left my job which was about ten minutes away from my house for a completely remote one because I am scared of what could happen on my way from work. The news I read online tells me that I could die no matter what I do and I am just a pawn in someone else’s chessboard.
Ebi
There are some complications in my relationships with family and work that make life difficult sometimes. Even though I am the last child of my family, my dad and my older sisters see no problem with emotionally dumping on me. Because I am an empath, I end up wearing their problems as mine.
At work, things are weird for me because of my boss. He likes picking on me. He has gone as far as giving me a new name. I have been applying for other jobs but my field is predominantly male so getting a job as a woman is hard. I am also going through a marriage annulment and all of this just makes everything else heavy.
Ada
I hate how men gaslight women online especially when it is about a woman’s experience with another man. I had a conversation with a man recently and he kept going on about how women enjoy playing victim and how he doesn’t care what happens to women. In that moment, I almost had a panic attack. Every word he said triggered me and all I wanted to do was cry.
Ruth
I don’t like when my loved ones say mean things to me. Sometimes, I cry. About a few weeks ago, my mum said some cruel things and I couldn’t eat afterwards. When she was apologizing she said, I provoke her to say those things to me. That doesn’t even make any sense.
Bisola
My job earns me little or nothing and I have not been able to get another job. I have no interest in the job and sometimes I am afraid I will lose it. I have no savings and that scares me. I am grateful for my parents, but the truth is I can’t depend on them forever.
Jumoke
Every time I come online and I see the word ‘rape’, I am immediately triggered. These days on Nigerian Twitter, more and more cases keep popping up. I don’t know what to do other than blocking the rape apologists I come across.
Nkechi
I am the first daughter and first child of my Igbo family. This affects my mental health because I’m expected to act a certain way and live a certain life. I have more or less been controlled my whole life to be a particular person and it’s very difficult to break free from that. My parents are narcissistic. They believe they are right no matter what. I love them but I hate them at the same time.
They found out I am queer last year and since then I’ve been going through mental, emotional, and physical abuse because of my sexuality. As a result, I have been diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD. Every day my mental health suffers but I am doing my best to get through each day.
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a mental health disorder that can cause above-normal levels of hyperactive and impulsive behaviours. People with ADHD may also have trouble focusing their attention on a single task or sitting still for long periods of time. While ADHD mostly affects children, some adults carry the disorder well into adulthood. I spoke with a few of those adults about living with the condition.
Femi
Initially, I was what people would call a “gifted child” so I was able to get away with not focusing and doing the work needed. Eventually, when I needed to sit and study, it was never easy and my parents and teachers could not understand the decline. I would spend 9 hours trying to study in order to 2-3 hours of actual study time.
In my 4th year of medical school, I could see the signs that I might have ADHD and I had developed coping mechanisms around it. Being a medical student, I was curious as I was able to tick off the symptoms and self-diagnose but I wanted to know if I was accurate. I went to a General Practitioner and told her some of my symptoms. She referred me to the psychology department to get a professional opinion. They asked a bunch of questions about when I first noticed my symptoms and stuff about my childhood.
I was offered medication but I refused it. I preferred going the route of psychotherapy and coping methods like breaking my work into segments. I don’t try to study all at once. I also use tricks like studying for 20 minutes and taking a 3-minute break to check Twitter or something, instead of forcing myself to study for long stretches. Exercise and meditation have also helped greatly.
Jumoke
My mom is a medical personnel and had made a general diagnosis. I had seen the signs of ADHD but I didn’t realise I had a problem until I got a job as a customer care representative. I used to drift off and my brain would get “hot” and shut down. In my job, I’d find myself opening multiple apps to reply to customers and end up replying to none. I thought I hated the job but I found out that I just couldn’t get anything done, no matter how hard I tried. I also used to become hyper fixated on people and things. I would find a bottle and suddenly it would seem like my life revolved around it.
I’d also get unnecessarily excited and would always interrupt people during conversations. Other times, I’d up by 2 in the morning, thinking about short term ideas and I’d be so hyper fixated, I wouldn’t be able to sleep till I get it done. I’ve registered for countless courses which I’ve failed to finish. Of course, it also affected me academically. I had to find my own method of studying. I always thought I was lazy but deep down, I just couldn’t.
I want to get a diagnosis and treatment ASAP because it’s messing up my life. I had to leave two jobs in the space of two months. Even though I’m bursting with ideas, it’s hard to work. I’m scared I might leave this new job too. I want to get professional help, but I’m not in that financial space.
Sam
Before my ADHD diagnosis, I always suspected something was wrong with the way I approached work: if the work was unstructured, I excelled at it.
As soon as something required managing schedules, repetition and project management, I quickly became inundated. Something as basic as sending an email was a chore. I tend to keep an email ‘in my head’ until I never eventually send it. Doing the same thing more than once frustrates me to the point of losing my temper, I cannot sit still in meetings, and I’m either unable to focus on anything, or I focus too hard on something until I’m spent in which case I never want to interact with that thing again.
Things got to a head when it began to increasingly affect work. It started to become more difficult when I switched careers. It strained me and nearly cost me my job. I just couldn’t bring myself to concentrate. It reflected poorly on me, and my employer was wondering about the disparity between what he knew I could do and what I was doing. Even I couldn’t explain it. Mercifully, my school provided mental health services as part of its perks and I had a consultation with a US-based therapist.
We went through a checklist and my family history, as well as my previous mental health profile (anxiety and depression, which apparently are ‘follow-come’ with ADHD) before she confirmed ADHD. Unfortunately, she couldn’t prescribe drugs from the US, so I had to get a Nigerian therapist here, who insisted on diagnosing me herself. She was even more rigorous, insisting on speaking to my parents to get my childhood data/history before making her assessment. She came to the same conclusion – Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
The effects were immediate. I was able to focus, mostly, but the more important thing I’d describe as important is that I wasn’t experiencing that waxing and waning of interest/energy when I was working.
Tioluwanimi
I was diagnosed with ADHD last year. It wasn’t a surprise because I had problems with relating with people and doing tasks. One minute, I’m really into an activity and the next, I’ve lost all interest. I was always restless and could never focus on a task. I was also very hyperactive and disorganised, which caused a lot of friction between me and my mom. I had and still have a short attention span and I find it difficult to concentrate. I went from being an A student to a C student because I couldn’t settle down to study.
Currently, my treatment entails therapy, majorly anger management. I ghosted my ADHD therapy because I lost interest.
Bunmi
I didn’t confirm I had ADHD till I was 28. I was your regular gifted kid who excelled at everything. My report card always read, “She’s highly intelligent but overly restless.” I was there, living in my head with my overactive imagination and volatile emotions. I managed to get through most of my adulthood because there was structure and I had an extreme need to please people.
After uni, I lost all that structure in my personal life and began to struggle. At work, I still had some structure so I managed to do well. My job can be very demanding and somehow, my life narrowed down to the fulfilment of my role. I was incapable of managing my life alongside my job. I took a test in 2018 and discovered I had ADHD.
It’s been a rollercoaster ride of coffee, yoga and learning to be a lot less hard on myself. I’ve learned to understand the way I am and realise my brain is just different in some ways. I’ve also learned to cope with my weak points and plan to compensate for them in advance.
Jane
Life was an endless loop of trying and being exceptional at stuff but dropping the balls on the simple, mundane, everyday tasks. Everyone would lash me about not being able to do basic stuff and how disappointing it was not to have it together. I would then focus on that, causing my personal life to fall apart. A lot of times, I was told that I was lazy and good-for-nothing.
It was like everyone saw how “great” I could become, but no one saw how hard I was already trying. Toss in a couple of health complications, and I was a complete mess. By 19 I had contemplated suicide several times and attempted at least thrice.
I was 19 when I heard a nurse talk to a young mother about getting her hyperactive toddlers assessed for ADHD. I was curious enough to ask her about it, and she gave me a brief description (which did not stick), then made a comment about how I had it too. I researched and related so much to the symptoms. But one of the articles I read at the time said children grow out of it when they hit 18, so I dropped it.
Fast forward to 2020. I had hit a burn-out very late the previous year and could no longer tolerate physical human interactions or gatherings of any kind.
I stumbled into the Neurodiverse squad on Twitter and found adults living with ADHD and other neurodivergent conditions and it was an eye-opening experience. Their openness about the way the conditions present (as adults) helped me see that there’s a lot more to these conditions than I previously knew.
This led me to pay attention to myself, sort out what I struggle with, that isn’t normal I thought they were normal, and that people just knew how to manage them better than I could. It’s part of why I felt like a shitty human being and questioned my own right to be alive. So I started to pick apart what is normal and what is not. Then I put all of these together and got into testing and discovered I had ADHD.
My favourite coping mechanism so far is to lean into the chaos. Rather than expend a lot of energy trying to get my brain to work like society expects, (and failing and feeling like a failure because of it), I focus instead on the goal, and allow my brain to lead. But most importantly, apart from my visual reminders, I am starting to accept, that I am EPIC at some things, but I cannot be great at everything. And that’s fine.
Pelumi
I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD. I tend to walk around a lot and I cannot stay in a place. If I stay in a place, I might die.
My parents thought it was a horrible problem and used all type of methods to stop me from pacing around. I vividly remember they tied me to a chair one day. It’s just an unconscious habit for me. I just pace around without any thought to how it makes people around me feel uncomfortable. People don’t like twitchy people so I always have to comport but it’s so hard, man. I just find myself constantly apologizing for making them feel uncomfortable but I can’t help it. I’m Paul Walker. But seriously, it’s tough always looking like a mad man because my body just wants to walk around and I’m always fidgety and twitching.
I feel like it’s going to take a lot of conditioning for me to stop walking around or losing concentration but I’m willing to learn coping mechanisms to help me if the need arises.
A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week
The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a physiotherapist and Bitcoin trader. He talks to us about struggling with mental health as a trader, his dreams to become a renowned poet, and how trading changed his life for good.
MONDAY:
At 12 a.m., I’m mostly awake trading BTC. I look for people who want to sell BTC as I simultaneously text people who want to buy BTC. While talking to clients, I also place adverts on social media to attract both buyers and sellers.
As the hours move, I religiously monitor something called pips and candles — graphical movements that indicate market gains and losses — and I buy BTC to hold when the price dips. I do this in hopes that I can resell at a higher price when the market goes up. The funny thing is that the market might keep dipping as the day continues so I end up losing a lot of money. Alternatively, the market might also go up and I make a little profit. Because of this volatility, I barely sleep. Someone is either calling me for a transaction or I’m having nightmares that BTC crashed when I was asleep. Either way, I stay up as long as I can to monitor the charts.
My midnight to early morning is the same cycle of buying, selling, placing advert and texting. However, my day takes a different turn because I have a 9-5.
In addition to trading BTC, I’m a licensed physiotherapist who manages private patients. I like to say that crypto is my side hustle while physiotherapy is the main work, but that’s not true — crypto trading is what makes me comfortable.
It’s 5 a.m. when I finally close my laptop for the day and stop trading. I stop because I have a long day ahead. I’ve been booked for private physiotherapy sessions and my patients live in vastly different parts of Lagos. My current dilemma is how to avoid Lagos traffic without splitting myself into two.
My more important dilemma is that I need to sleep before I can do any form of thinking. When I wake up, I’ll figure out the next step.
TUESDAY:
Trading crypto can change your life for both good and bad. You can get comfortable from this business, but your relationship with people will also suffer.
I don’t sleep because I’m always on my phone or laptop trading. I don’t reply to messages because I can’t carry on a conversation for long. I remember this one time I was on a date with someone who promised to never see me again.
Why? I was looking at my phone all through the date. I couldn’t explain to her that I was losing huge amounts of money. Sometimes when I’m spiralling, I turn off my phone and take a break away from everybody. I encourage crypto traders to take breaks because no amount of money can make you happy as a full-time trader. You’re always thinking of how to double or triple the money. You’re always reading charts. And you’re also too familiar with watching all the profit you made at 7 a.m. go down the drain at night.
Today is a bad mental health day for me. Just for existing alone, I’ve lost almost ₦500,000 in a trade. Even though I know it’ll keep getting worse, I can’t stop staring at the screen.
When I can’t take it anymore, I pick up my car keys, turn off my phone and decide to go lodge in a hotel where I can be alone.
Trading crypto has changed my life. I’ve lost money today and I’m probably in debt, but I have friends who can loan me money until I bounce back. I’ve lost money today, and I’m crying in my car, but soon, I’ll cry in a well-furnished hotel room.
WEDNESDAY:
Nothing seems to be working for the foul mood I’m in today.
I went somewhere to take tequila shots, it didn’t work.
I went to dye my hair, it didn’t work.
I went to binge eat, it also didn’t work.
In the evening, I’ll go to a bar to try to lift myself out of this deep sadness that I feel.
When I turn on my phone, I’m sure I’ll see that my friends have been looking for me. It’s ironic how someone will see a photo of me in the hotel and automatically assume I’m happy and balling.
The constant up and downs in this business are really affecting my mental health. As a medic, I understand a bit about mental health, and this helps me fight thoughts like, “Why am I failing?” “Why am I losing money?” “Who did I offend?”
I’m not leaving here without a fight. Life is so useless that it’s not worth dying for. I’d rather life kills me itself before I kill myself.
THURSDAY:
I feel better today, so I spend some time thinking about how social media can be misleading. When I’m making profit, I don’t party or club or even go out. I’m just indoors.
But the minute I start to experience back to back losses, I booze-up. If not, I’ll get frustrated. My friends and I have a tendency to make ourselves happy by partying, going clubbing and sometimes taking breaks. Because our approach to bad days looks like enjoyment, it’s easy to look like we don’t have bad days. It’s easy for people to say we’re always balling, always chopping life when the reality is that we’re “chopping life” because we just made a major loss.
What a big irony.
FRIDAY:
I’ve decided to leave the hotel today and to connect back with the world. The first message I see when I turn on my phone is someone asking me to open a BTC wallet for her and help her trade.
I’m not the most honest person in the world, but I tell her never to ask anyone to open a wallet on her behalf because anyone in possession of your username and password can swindle you.
I tell her that BTC wallets are quite easy to open. I also tell her that BTC trading isn’t some magic trick where you put in $50 and get $600 after two days. If the money will increase, it’ll do so by maybe $10.
After my speech, I pack my things and leave the hotel.
I’m barely halfway from my house before I’m stopped by the Nigerian police. They’re shouting at me to park, and I know it’s because of my dyed hair that I’m being stopped. I greet the officers and quickly show them my physiotherapist ID card. The conversation takes a quick turn, and the officer who was shouting softens his voice. The next question he asks is, “Which medicine I fit use if I get Covid?”
I tell him to go to the hospital if he thinks he has any symptoms. I can’t help but shake my head and sigh as I drive away from their checkpoint. Everyone in this country has a problem that’s doing them.
SATURDAY:
I wake up today feeling grateful for my 9-5. My physio job allows me to interact with patients which then forces me to read my books a bit. I love books and I love to read. If I didn’t have to earn a living, I’d probably be a poet or something. Writing poetry has been one of the ways I’ve expressed the intense wave of melancholy I experience. I’m hopeful that someone can relate to how I feel and that helps them feel less alone.
Sadly, poetry can’t be a full-time job. That’s why I show up, regardless of how I feel, to trade.
If you ask me where I see myself in future, I’ll tell you that I just want two things: to release my second and third anthology of poems, and to finally be free from a screen.
I’m tired.
I need to sleep with urgency and without worry about whatever the trading charts are saying.
Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week
The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a grief counsellor. Grief counsellors help people experiencing loss to examine the root cause of their emotions. Our subject tells us about how counsellors don’t have quick fixes for emotions, the tedium involved in his job, and why he shows up every day.
MONDAY:
The first thing I do when I get out of bed today is morning devotion. After which I have a bath. Then I prepare to start my day. A typical day for me involves either seeing patients with appointments or running operations at my volunteer job. Mondays are mostly for the operations role, and this involves following up with people, making sure tasks are done on schedule and generally being on top of things.
Mondays are also useful in helping me plan my week — I schedule patient appointments, follow up on patients progress and rest so I don’t burn out.
I’m pretty excited about today because I have plans to see a movie after work and to also try out a new food recipe from YouTube. I check my watch and realise that I’m running late. I turn off all the sockets and lights, take one last look to see I’m not forgetting anything and dash out of the door. Another Monday morning, another hustle begins.
TUESDAY:
People ask, “what is grief counselling?” and I tell them that it simply means taking a deep dive into a person’s life. Because of the many layers to grief — loss of a job, opportunity, failed business — counselling focuses not on the loss but on the quality of life before and after an incident.
I remember losing my mum in 2005 and not feeling anything in real-time. Like most people, I avoided processing the loss and immediately threw myself into schoolwork. It was easier to function well during the day because I had so many activities to distract me. However, alone with my thoughts at night, I cried. This routine went on for a year, then I lost my paternal grandmother that I was close to. Because I had lost two people and refused to process it in such a short period of time, I switched off from being a jovial person and became reclusive and almost antisocial.
I continued to go through life as a recluse until I started living with a psychiatrist friend. He noticed that I didn’t mix with other flatmates or interact with anyone; I’d just come out to eat before dashing back into my room. One day he sat me down and asked me, “How are you?” I answered that I was fine. Then he said, “How are you really doing?”
Such a simple question helped me unravel a lot of emotions I had suppressed and avoided facing.
My friend eventually came to the realisation that even though I had suffered losses in 2005 and 2006, I was still grieving in 2013. Because I didn’t properly grieve, I was living the life of another person for seven to eight years of my life.
I eventually got therapy and dealt with my emotions.
That event showed me that grief causes people to spiral and can manifest as depression, panic attacks or anxiety. Grief counselling involves reviewing the before and after effect of an event and examining how it has affected a patient’s relationship with people, their life and their self-esteem. The knowledge is then used in developing a strategy for both patient and counsellor to walk through the loss together.
This is the pitch I give all my patients when they come to me.
I’m tired from running around yesterday, so I’m going to cancel my appointments and spend the day recharging.
WEDNESDAY:
I did sleep hypnosis for a patient today and I almost “died.” I was so tired after the session that I needed a colleague to pick me up. One of the challenges of this job is that it takes an emotional toll on you. Constantly listening to grief stories is a weight that we must bear, and that’s why grief therapists seek out ways to offload. We do this by either spacing therapy appointments, asking for help when we’re stumped, or in my case, surfing the web and making podcasts.
Another challenge grief counsellors face is that people want quick fixes for their emotions. I tell them that emotions take time to resolve and involves the active participation of the person feeling them. If the patient is not ready to put in the effort to examine their feelings, then the therapist will never get to the root of the issue.
Patient participation ensures that patients who recover are clear-eyed about the steps that got them out of a funk. Knowing the difference between the steps they took and how a therapist helped prevents patients from saying: “It’s God,” or “It was my therapist that helped me get through my grief.”
I’ve had clients cancel on me because they either didn’t feel better after one session or they didn’t want to do the soul searching assignments I gave them. I’ll still not stop preaching that there’s no magic formula; therapists are not saviours. Psychologists are not saviours. Psychiatrists are not gods. We don’t have the answers and we need patients’ participation in therapy. Without effort on the part of our patients, there’s not a lot we can do.
THURSDAY:
A lot of Nigerians approach grief like something that goes away unattended to. Only very few people come seeking help after losing a loved one. There are some people who consider break downs as not being emotionally strong. I encourage my patients to cry, especially if it helps them get through a difficult situation.
I generally advise people who are grieving not to blame themselves, especially if they think their action or inaction was somehow responsible for the death. The next step is to encourage them to have conversations with people so they can sit with their emotions. Conversations help to examine their thoughts about an issue and to also observe how thoughts affect feelings and how feelings influence behaviour. It then becomes “easy” for the therapist to hold their hands as they break thoughts, and ultimately, their behaviour in the aftermath of a traumatic event.
This method doesn’t always work, especially on days like today where I’m dealing with a difficult patient. We’re not making any progress in her sessions because she’s not ready to examine the root of her grief. She has been missing sessions, ignoring assignments and generally been uncooperative.
I’ve decided to refer her to another colleague.
A major downside to this job is that because the service is intangible, it’s difficult for people to appreciate the value. If it was a tangible product, I’m sure that more people would cooperate. Regardless of the challenges, we move.
FRIDAY:
The plan for today is simple: make podcasts and upload videos to my Youtube channel after seeing a few patients. I’ve been creating content around grief and mental health since as far back as 2009. I envision a reality where there’s so much accessible knowledge that anyone can hold a basic mental health conversation. As a society, we need to be able to talk about how we feel without being made to feel like we’re worthless or we’ve committed a crime.
We need more people to be in touch with their emotions. My perfect future is one where your excuse for not knowing about mental health won’t be that you’ve not heard or you didn’t have resources. This is what gets me out of bed every morning to repeat the hustle cycle over and over again.
Thank God the weekend is here because, on Monday, we go again.
Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.
When Tobi* lost his job because the firm he worked for, an offshoot of a French company, had left after realising they were losing more money than they were making in Nigeria, he did not quite know he was about to go on a dark road.
‘‘I was sad, very sad obviously. But I thought, las las I would survive and find a new job. I’m smart and my degree is pretty good, so I packed my stuff up and left.’’ he says. Within the next two months, Tobi’s girlfriend broke it off with him as she left the country to further her education — a thing Tobi hadn’t known she was looking into at the time — his mother fell sick, his physical health started deteriorating, his savings were near depletion, rent was nearing renewal and he still hadn’t gotten a job.
‘‘It was simply awful. It was the worst period of my life. I remember how every night I would stay awake thinking about how I could kill myself and end of all this once and for all. Then because I couldn’t sleep, I would wake up late and tired and angry at myself for being so lazy.’’ Tobi’s friends began to grow concerned after he managed to blow them all off and actively avoided them for weeks.
‘‘I knew my friends were worried, but at the time, all I could think about was how sick and tired I was of needing people to take care of me. I thought I was weak and a failure, so I actively refused to let them in, which in hindsight was bad.’’ Tobi eventually took to looking into ways of committing suicide and attempted a drug overdose.
‘‘I know it’s stupid to, but when I remember it, I laugh at how dramatic I must have looked. When I took it, the pain was overwhelming, I was lucky to send a text to a WhatsApp group I was in with my friends. I don’t remember what happened, but my friends said someone showed up about twenty minutes later and took me to the hospital. After I was discharged, I stayed with my friends for a few months. They made me get into therapy and whew, that was helpful. I still didn’t get a new job till like a year after I got fired by the way. But I was mentally healthy till I did, and that’s thanks to my friends.’’
Much like Tobi, Joel*, a writer, points to his breaking point around a time he lost a job.
‘‘I got commissioned for this big story for a publication I loved, then after writing it, it was killed. The editor told me that he no longer thought it was a good fit for the publication so they wouldn’t be publishing it. They offered me a kill fee, but I was too devastated by the fact that this publication thought I wasn’t good enough as a writer. This was worsened by the fact that I had been trying to get commissioned for pieces for months and nothing was coming. I had convinced myself that this story coming out would save my career.’’ Joel barely left home for most of that month as he felt his anxiety about his career reach new levels.
‘‘I was out of work for two months, and if you know what that’s like for a freelance writer, you know how bad that was. I eventually had to accept a small but intense ₦50,000 gig just so I could eat. It’s all in the past, but I think something in me broke then.’’
‘‘My ex was an upcoming singer and me, I was the hopelessly devoted boyfriend who was convinced his job was to stand and support,’’ Seun* says. ‘‘I was the better off partner and had a well-paying job, so I thought supporting my boyfriend was the right way to go. I paid for studio sessions, he lived at mine etc. I was deceiving myself.’’ Seun remembers getting multiple texts from his friends that they had bad news and he should call them when he could.
‘‘We got on a conference call, and apparently, my ex had been sleeping with a mutual friend for a decent amount of time. I couldn’t work that day. When I got home, I locked myself in my bedroom and cried to sleep. My ex, who was staying with me, kept asking what happened. The next day, I asked him if it was true. It was.
I’m ashamed to admit, but I still wanted to make it work. I tried for one full month and my friends were disgusted. I eventually realised I was kidding myself, so I broke it off. That was when I truly broke down. I think I was dispensing on that relationship for my self-worth, so when it ended, what was left was a shadow. For weeks, I couldn’t work, I couldn’t laugh. I don’t think I had ever been that sad before.’’ Seun eventually realised that he couldn’t continue this way so, he asked to take some time off work.
‘‘I took two weeks off work and left the country. It helped me. But I think what helped the most was my friends. They were supportive and kind till I healed.’’
According to the World Health Organisation, one in four Nigerians has a mental illness. The same health body also estimates that one in four people globally will have a mental illness at some point in their lives. Nigeria has about 300 psychiatrists catering to its teeming 200 million-strong population. With statistics such as these, many young people requiring mental health care are unable to access it, exacerbating their condition.
To highlight the importance of seeking professional mental health care, I spoke to five young Nigerians with mental health conditions about their experiences with medication.
Tobi, Male, 25
I was in school for an important exam and I found out I couldn’t read or remember anything I had read. It was quite difficult to fall asleep and I woke up tired and frustrated, which frustrated me even more. I knew I was terribly scared of the exam but I assumed everyone was scared too. The anxiety disorder and depression diagnosis came in 2019 and I was placed on a regimen of drugs, including anti-hypertensives.
They made me feel crappy. While I felt unhappy and anxious before, I suddenly felt super sleepy during classes and lacked the mental strength to do anything. I felt like a robot. A weak and tired robot with no happiness or sadness. I cut it out after a while and embraced the anxiety, despite my exams. I still get memory lapses and mad anxiety while at work. After a while, a friend recommended I visit the Yaba Neuro-psychiatric hospital and was placed on a different regimen. These drugs made me feel demotivated, groggy and tired. I intend to go back to complain about these side effects.
Big Daddy, Male, 26
I had no choice but to go see a psychiatrist. It was either that or killing myself, and I really wasn’t in the mood to die. I decided to go to a psychiatric hospital in Calabar. I was prescribed some drugs and we’ve had to adjust the dosage over time. I started with 100mg daily, reduced to 50mg after a while, then down to 25mg only when I needed it. But the Lekki Tollgate incident happened and messed up my psyche and I’m back to 25mg daily. It was a really mentally disturbing period.
The side effects were another story. Increased lethargy, loss of libido, fatigue, weight gain, insomnia, irritability. Eventually, my body adjusted and the side effects dwindled by the day. Now, I’m seeing the benefits of the medication, the most distinct of which is my mood stability. Mood swings occur less frequently and my anxiety is much more manageable.
The meds also helped me in several other ways, in the short term. For example, I become very anxious when I’m flying. Taking a pill of my meds before my flight reduced my anxiety drastically while in the air. I also sleep much better. Before the meds, my sleep pattern was horrible. I used to be able to sleep maybe 3-4 hours and I’d spend all day lethargic. Not anymore. Even beyond my mental health, I still see other benefits. For example, one of the drugs I was prescribed for depression also treats irritable bowel syndrome, which I’ve always had. I have the double benefit of fixing my head and stopping my stomach from killing me with one drug.
Reni, Female, 31
I had my first major depressive episode in 2010. At first, I was in denial and tried to deal with it myself. I eventually sought treatement in 2015 and was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I began some Cognitive Behavioural Therapy but it started feel like homework so I stopped. I didn’t get a prescription for drugs because I was moving to a new city and didn’t want to handle all the side effects of the drugs while settling in. I eventually got a prescription in 2018.
Depression is HARD. It makes everyday feel like climbing a mountain. Even little things like eating become difficult and don’t get me started on the suicide ideation. This is why medication is important. The meds make depression less heavy and life easier, generally.
Depression is a never-ending journey. In 2018, I had another major depressive/anxiety episode. It was so bad that I had to go to the doctor’s office for an emergency appointment. I just wanted them to give me all the drugs LOL.
The medication isn’t a magical fix though. It takes time to kick in, and some of the initial side effects are nasty. It took us a few months to get a dosage that was working for me. When we did, it was like the most extreme ends of the emotional spectrum were gone. On one hand, I wasn’t misrable or feeling unable or unwilling to exist, which was good, but on the other hand, I felt like I could not cry. For more than a year, I didn’t cry once, and usually, I’m quite the crier LOL. On the opposite side of the spectrum, it felt like my ability to be excited was capped at 75%. When I was eventually coming off the drugs, it was so uncomfotable. I used to get brain zaps for two months, which are actually a common side effect.
Kim, Female, 21
I’ve always know that I’ve struggled with depression but I was offically diagnosed a few months ago. I had to go get help when I knew I was in a bad place. I mean, I was cutting and constantly abusing myself. I was very close to ending it all. I just knew that if I didn’t get help, I was going to kill myself. Thankfully, a friend I had just met made me see that help wasn’t so hard to get.
When I first started medicating, it wasn’t all calm o. In fact, I started feeling more depressed. I even felt like overdosing on the drugs before I realised that the hospital actually gave me just enough for a short period and it wasn’t enough to overdose on. After a week or so, I started feeling better. I can only describe it as suddenly feeling tranquil. There used to be a constant raging storm in my head but gradually, it began to calm. I started feeling more sane and I could think more clearly. I just felt like I was alive once again. However, I’m scared that I might have to live my life taking these drugs. One time, I forgot to use my meds and I could feel myself slipping again. It was scary.
Overall, it was the best decision I ever made. I was on the edge, losing so much of myself. The drugs are helping. They aren’t the ultimate fix but it’s a great start. Super happy I had my friend who made sure I got the help I really needed.
Sadiq, Male, 26
The anxiety became crippling and consuming. It became too much. Every second of the day, I was anxious; too anxious to pick my calls, doubly anxious if someone yelled my name. I knew it was too much to bear when, one day, someone was being yelled at beside and I instantly coiled up. People thought I used to sleep late because I wanted to, but the real reason was I was always too anxious at night.
Considering the country we’re in, the process of getting a diagnosis and medication was surprisingly easy. I spoke to a friend who already went through the process and he put me on to Yaba Neuro-psychiatric Hospital, popularly known as Yaba Left. I grew up hearing wild stories about it and I was worried for a but it went smoothly and the doctors were super nice.
My experience with medication has been fairly good. I’ve been sleeping well and I honestly didn’t know I could live like this. At first, I had side effects like low libido. All of a sudden, it skyrocketed. In fact, someone I was sleeping with at the time thought I was a monster because I kept going without an orgasm. She didn’t know I wanted to but just couldn’t. Thankfully, it’s back to normal now. Overall, I’ve seen great improvements in my interactions with people and my quality of life has shot up immensely.
Sarah, Female, 25
Mentally, I felt overwhelmed, like there were invisible hands around my neck choking me, and not in a fun way. I felt like a burden on people, like I dampened everything; conversations, fun etc. Everything was paradoxically underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time.
A friend talked me into getting help a few days ago and I was prescribed some medication by a psychiatric hospital in Ibadan. Although I’ve only been medicating for a few days, I’ve seen some changes already. I don’t shake as much as I used to, I’m a lot less jumpy. I feel more clear-headed and organised. It’s not like the drugs don’t have side effects; I’ve not had any appetite since yesterday and the night-time drugs made me feel drowsy initially, and I was also horny in a weird way. Still, the benefits outweigh the negatives for me and I’m glad I got help.
Zikoko cares about your mental health. Reach out to non-profits such as MentallyAware Nigeria here to talk to a mental health professional today. You could also call their emergency line on 08091116264 or follow @MentallyAwareNG on Twitter.
Body dysmorphia is a mental health disorder that makes you obsess over your physical appearance. You constantly try to fix or hide these perceived flaws that may not be noticeable to others but yourself. We spoke to five Nigerian women about what it is like hating their body in a way that makes them obsess over it. They told us about body dysmorphia and what it is like for them.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS ARTICLE DISCUSSES BODY DYSMORPHIA, MENTIONS SELF HARM, ANXIETY DISORDERS, PANIC ATTACKS AND DEPRESSION. MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME.
Anu; 19
The sight of my own body causes me pain. I hate looking in mirrors because of the amount of time I spend obsessing over all these “flaws” I have, but I look at them anyway because I have to monitor my progress in getting rid of them. The stretch marks, flabby skin, spots, discoloration, everything. I look at these imperfections and want to hurt myself. I’m constantly fight a battle between “hurt yourself because you look absolutely terrible” and “you cannot afford any more scars on your ugly body.” I get panic attacks because I worry that people can see these flaws, so I wear baggy clothes to hide as much of me as possible.
Titi; 20
I feel like my body and mind deceive me when it comes to the visual perception of myself. Even when I try to look my best, what I look like in the mirror or camera is the total opposite of what people see when they look at me. I have had multiple breakdowns over this. I only speak about it when other people talk about it because it makes me feel less alone with my predicament.
Halima; 22
I can’t remember ever looking in the mirror and feeling good. To me, there is always something off. I used to self harm when I was younger but stopped when I scared myself by going too far. I moved from that to alcohol which I stopped once I moved to my parent’s place for the lockdown. Now, I just work a lot to get my mind off of things. If you avoid seeing yourself for a while, there will be nothing to obsess over, right?
Francis; 27
Sometimes, it is the little things that really rock you. You might be typing a letter to your boss when you realise that your fingers are too short. You look at them for so long, it spreads to other parts of your body. Before you know it, it is 3 p.m. on a Tuesday night, and you are contemplating suicide because of your “short fingers.” You feel so guilty for being sad over “silly” things like that. Imagine explaining to someone that you had an anxiety attack because of your fingers? Body dysmorphia is a haunting problem, and all the “love yourself” quotes cannot fix it.
Amaka; 24
I hate mirrors, but I keep looking at myself in the mirror wondering if my face will magically change overnight. I am not sure what my body actually looks like because what people say I look like is not what I see. I am super conscious of my body and how I look. I cannot wear form fitting dresses when I go out alone because I do not want to feel weird. In my head, everyone is looking at me and wondering why I would wear such an outfit. I see people that look the way I look and they are pretty, but when it comes to me, it just does not work that way.
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It is very easy to forget to prioritise your mental health in the midst of the protests and what seems like a very important part of Nigeria’s history. We asked five Nigerian women how they manage to protect their mental health even in the midst of it all.
Sandra, 18
When it gets too much, I leave social media and binge watch Korean dramas. It is a good escape because, at that point, I am not thinking of anything else other than the movie I am watching.
Amaka, 24
I do not. I haven’t spoken to my therapist in a while, and I have daily panic attacks. I really want it all to end. Maybe I can start taking care of my mental health then.
Fikin, 20
I cry a lot. After seeing so much, I just break down and cry. When I’m done crying, I get angry and resume my online protest. I also talk to a friend. He knows what to say, and it makes me feel better.
Zainab, 24
Weed, friends and my therapist. That’s basically my support system, and it’s working. My friends surround me with a lot of love and everything becomes easier to get through.
Eniola, 35
I masturbate. It helps me relax, and then I sleep. Sleep helps me to just forget.
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Different men have different attitudes to skincare. Ranging from the ones who go all out to people who really don’t give two shits, everyone has their personal approach.
I was wondering how different men handled skincare so I put out a tweet asking men about their skincare routines. The answers I got ranged from shocking to downright hilarious. Here are a few of them.
1. Some people prefer plain ol’ robbery to keep their skin fresh.
Nigerians have come a long way from how they perceive mental health. The youths are more mindful and self-aware and are in turn educating the older populace about mental awareness. Today, I spoke to 6 strong Nigerian women about their mental health journey and because this is a story of how they conquered, I will be adding their superpowers.
Sophie, 21,
Superpower: Resilient and self-aware
In 2019, my mother was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. It came as a shock to me because she is my everything, she is the parent that stayed so to see her become so ill broke me. At the time, I was already dealing with overthinking and anxiety so it was tough for me to accept this new reality. I’d be at school or work and start worrying that something must have happened to her in my absence.
A part of me is still ridden with guilt that somehow this is my fault. It’s ridiculous, I know but I cannot help but feel like I should have seen the signs or been more attentive.
Over time, I took on more responsibilities and I could feel myself getting drained. As she got better, I became worse. Food, sleep, hanging out became a distant memory for me. Whenever I went out, I’d find myself crying in the uber. This was when I decided to get help. E-counselling has really helped me. I now know to keep my mind and personal space clean. Trying not to clutter my life with negative people and so far, things have gotten better. I am mentally in a better place.
Anna, 25
Superpower: Speaks 4 languages and knows over 60 countries national anthem
I started learning national anthems as a way to beat depression and social anxiety. When I was 6, my twin brother died. When I turned 8, my mom died as well. It was just me and my dad and he wasn’t really the “fatherly” figure one would expect. He remarried and that was when my life truly became hell. My stepmother tortured me for days. She’d lock me up in a room for an extended period whenever my dad was away. It got so bad that I refused to come home for mid-term breaks and I’d be the last to leave school on long holidays.
When I got into university, this woman would pay boys to beat and harass me. At some point, I became friends with the guys she used to send. We would end up using the money she paid them to hang out.
Whenever I complained to my father, he would tell me everything would be okay. It took this woman almost setting me on fire for my father to send me to my aunt’s place. When I moved in with my aunt in Lagos, I began to seek help. I would stay indoors for days without eating or moving. So my aunt made me see a therapist and I got diagnosed with clinical depression.
In December 2018, I wrote a suicide note, had a bottle of sniper near me that day. Funny enough, a call from my Dad saved me.
He just called and said he loves me. That was the first time my dad ever uttered those words to me.
So I’ve been battling a lot of anxiety and sadness all my life. Even now that I’m older and more independent, I still have a lot of anxiety.
Sometimes I feel like my heart is about to fall out of my chest. I have unnecessary panic attacks. I almost feel like I’m broken. This past week, I haven’t been able to sleep at night. I’m mostly awake overwhelmed by my own thoughts. As much as I am thankful for life, I do not feel like I have a purpose.
Dami, 22
Superpower: Very Logical and empathetic
I have battled with mental health issues all my life but the incident that stood out for me was the year 2018 when I was in school. When it happened I just knew I had to get help. Just before I had my exams, I had a breakdown. Stayed in bed for a month, couldn’t function or eat. It ended with me in the hospital getting diagnosed with depression. It was so bad that I had to take a year off school. My parents wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting stressed over schooling while recovering. I think it hit them hard when they found out that I was cutting myself.
For me, I would say my triggers were a function of the uncertainty that hit me. All my life, I have maintained good grades, done what I was told to do and now I have to figure things out myself and the nagging question of “what next, what now?” hit me harder than I anticipated. I cut myself every few days during the hardest point of my depression. The only reason I’m alive is that I kept thinking about how my death would wreck my family and the religious implications as well.
I am very grateful for modern medicine and therapy. Although, being on anti-depressants makes me numb. I don’t feel sad or ecstatic about anything but it is better than feeling a pang of overwhelming sadness. I’d advise that people on anti-depressant always speak to a doctor before going off them cause suddenly stopping medication can lead to a deeper depression. I know this cause I have lived it.
Akpevweoghene, 20
Superpower: Unique thought process, open-minded
I haven’t been diagnosed yet but I have shown symptoms of anxiety. It is easy for me to breakdown during an argument, especially with a loved one. There was a day I broke down and tried to harm myself. It was terrible. I cried my eyes out, used my body to hit the floors. It was scary and confusing plus I had no idea what was happening. I felt insane. It got worse, I entered the kitchen, picked up a lighter and started burning my hands. A loved one had to intervene. After the incident, I started reevaluating myself. I wondered why I couldn’t feel the burning pain until I stopped hurting myself. It made me realise that I may have a mental health issue. ‘
Seeing that I cannot afford therapy, I have been getting help from mentally aware. Some days the breakdowns are subtle like the rains and other days it could be as harsh as a storm. To cope, I have distanced myself from my toxic family and their expectations. Writing also helps.
I believe everyone has their share of mental health issues but how they handle is what truly matters. The world may vilify people who have been open and expressive about mental health but I want those that aren’t speaking up to know that it is not their fault in any way and they shouldn’t let stigma stop them from speaking up.
Having a mental health issue actually saved me from a bad relationship. thing is, I left a bad relationship to a worse one. When I tried to leave again, the guy would come with a face full of remorse and a mouth full of apologies. I knew the relationship wasn’t what I wanted cause of the amount of stress the guy put me through. Imagine being in a relationship where your partner enjoys having quarrels. He was an overthinker and if I agreed too quickly on something with him, it would stir up an argument. I gave 80% of my life to him, we were always together because he’d insist on it.
I could feel myself hitting rock bottom in the relationship but I stayed. Until I started crying in my sleep. I’d wake up with tears and the nagging memories of a nightmare. I knew I had had enough when I woke up to voices in my head screaming hateful things at me. It was terrifying because it felt so real. I could hear the voices saying “I hate myself, I hate you.”
Thing is, I would never think these words to myself on a normal day so why are these voices yelling this at me? The voices were throwing a tantrum and I just stayed there crying. I didn’t want to link it with mental health because I felt I was strong and these things were beneath me. Eventually, I ended the relationship and left all social platforms for about 6 months. I didn’t go for therapy but I took on meditation, yoga and exercise to cope. Life is meant to be enjoyed and I’m glad I found what works for me.
Kevwe 26
Superpower: Selfless with a big heart that has nothing to do with cardiomegaly.
When I was in school in 2014, my father died. I had bouts of depression. Back then, I wasn’t quite sure what the emotions I was going through were but now I know that it’s a miracle I was able to pass my exams that year. Since then, I have dealt with anxiety in different forms. I have researched painless ways to die.
In my search for an optimal suicide option, found an injection that could let me go away painlessly but it’s wasn’t sold in Nigeria. The other options were drowning in the 3rd mainland bridge or by hanging. I searched for anything that would make me go and ensure I didn’t survive cause it would be worse than the depression. I didn’t want to deal with the guilt or get arrested cause apparently, suicide is a criminal offence in Nigeria.
The funny thing is, my organisation provides resources for therapy and such but I just want to wallow. I don’t think there is anything to be happy about. Right now, I can’t even tell my partner cause he is going through his own problems. In times like this, I miss being able to pray and just take things to Jesus. It was easier. I don’t want to bewoke anymore, I want to sleep. I’m tired.
As we get older, living with our family becomes increasingly tricky. From the minor disagreements to the curfew to the privacy invasion, most people tend to move out as quickly as they can but very few speak about how it affects their mental health. I spoke to a lady who started having panic attacks after spending a long holiday with her family and how that has influenced her decision not to go back home.
When did your panic attacks start?
Last year, I went home for an extended period because my university was on a break. My parents were always complaining that I don’t spend my holidays with them so I decided to come home for that holiday. After spending a few weeks with my family, I went back to school and that’s when the attacks started.
What was the first panic attack like?
It was stressful because I had no idea what was going on. I tried to hit myself on a wall over and over. My friend who was with me when it happened became super confused and afraid. It happened in the night so he had to call my other friends for help. That was the worst panic attack for me because I genuinely thought I was dying.
Honestly, sometimes I’m not sure. I could be with people and then suddenly a random thought would hit me and I would suffer an attack. For instance, the first time I had sex, I had a panic attack. The guy thought it was an orgasm, I had to explain to him that it was in fact a panic attack.
It can be random like that although, most times, I strongly suspect it has something to do with the last time I was home.
What happened?
Just a lot of family stress. My mom and dad having issues here and there. I know every marriage suffers from something but I was protected from the ugly bits of their marriage. Being in the same space with them after almost a year of not seeing them made me realise how bad things have gotten.
They were always arguing and I realise that the picture-perfect front they put up is all an act. My mental health suffered a lot after that.
Have you tried talking to them about this?
I tried to explain my panic attack to my mother but she wanted me to pray about it. Prayer won’t solve anything, I’ve tried. I don’t fault her though, this is all she has known and maybe my description of what a panic attack feels like made her think it was spiritual.
Haha. well, for one, it starts off with me feeling shitty then for a while, everything goes blank and I temporarily lose my memory. There is an uncertainty that fills you when you cannot remember what events led up to a certain point or what is happening.
I start to hear voices as I try to remember and then it becomes louder and I want them out so I bang my head against the wall.
For some reason, I feel hitting my head will make the voices stop, it doesn’t. But at that moment, I feel like my brain is trying to explode and my body is trying to kill me cause I literally forget how to breathe. So, I am stuck in limbo, a state of blacking out but still being conscious somehow.
Wow. How do you stop these attacks when they start?
Since they can last for as long as 2 hours, I usually need friends to hold me down and stop me from hurting myself. I don’t really have a way of stopping them, I have to wait it out. Sometimes, I do breathing exercises to calm me down or I just start drawing.
Have you tried to get professional help?
Yes. I go for therapy and take anti-depressants but I sometimes worry that I might need to be on meds for the rest of my life to be okay and it scares me.
Is there anything else you’d like to say?
Yes. Family drama can affect one’s state of mind and it is perfectly okay to distance yourself from all that madness for your mental health sake.
The coronavirus pandemic has affected the world in many very clear and undeniable ways — ranging from loss of life to the devastating economic impact — but one of the less visible ways it has truly taken a toll is on a lot of people’s mental well-being.
From the fear and anxiety that comes with this much uncertainty to the feeling of loneliness that has been exacerbated by self-isolation and social distancing, we asked seven Nigerians to share how the virus has affected their mental health.
Halima, 29 — My Meds Aren’t Working
My mental health has been in shambles for a while now — I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. At least before the virus, I was seeing some improvement because of my meds. I was actually hoping to go off the drugs by the end of this year, but it looks like that won’t be happening.
My drugs don’t even seem to be working because I am always anxious. I struggle to get out of bed and carry out my daily tasks. I try to dance to one song at least once a day and I’ve stopped working out. If I’m going to die, I might as well go out with a fat booty and food in my belly.
Sarah, 32 — I Attended The AMVCA
I attended AMVCA, so I’ve been anxious for a while now. I was at work when the news that we could have been infected officially broke. I had to keep working even though my chest had sunk to the bottom of my stomach. I’m pre-diabetic, so I started panicking about my chances.
It also did not help that 7 days after the event, I had a fever, sore throat and dry cough. I called NCDC’s Lagos team and they promised to come to take my sample the next day, but they didn’t. I got a call, instead, asking for my symptoms. They said it was mild and told me to self-isolate.
Self-isolation itself has been easy since I like staying at home. My anxiety has also mostly disappeared. It started with the rumours, got worse with my symptoms and peaked with the announcement. Right now, all that really keeps me up is whether I’ll still have a job when all of this is over.
Tolu, 25 — I’m Scared I Will End Myself
I’ve been struggling with depression for the past couple of years, as well as recurring suicidal thoughts. I’ve also attempted to take my own life in the past. This experience has definitely worsened it because I have no way to escape my own head.
I feel trapped and sometimes I can’t breathe — I call it existential claustrophobia. Too much screen time makes my head hurt, and I’m stuck isolating with my parents, who are prayer warriors. I’m afraid that if this doesn’t end soon, I will end myself.
Jimi, 30 — My Anxiety Is Back
I’ve struggled with anxiety for most of my life — I used to be a chronic nail-biter and I’d always sweat profusely. It finally reduced when I told my family I was gay and dropped my unhealthy dependency on drugs. Since this pandemic started, my anxiety has been back up.
I had the stomach flu the other day. It turned into diarrhoea and a slight pain in my upper stomach — not even my chest — and I was fully panicking. I started thinking about my life and cried for almost 30 minutes. This whole experience has really put a lot of things into perspective for me.
Ada, 23 — I Had My First-Ever Panic Attack
I had my first-ever panic attack last week. I was on the HouseParty app with my friends when I started struggling to breathe. I walked to my balcony to get air, but I still couldn’t draw in enough. My heart started racing, and I was certain that I was going to die.
Luckily, my friend helped calm me down. The next day, I learned what it was. I’m meant to go for my MBA in September, and I’m worried it won’t happen. I’m also very lonely because my family is far away. So, I’ve just been worrying a lot more, and I think that’s what caused the attack.
Deola, 31 — I’m The Calmest I’ve Been In Years
In the past, I’ve suffered from anxiety. I tend to call it high-functioning anxiety because it was never crippling to the point where I couldn’t get out of bed. My symptoms were an inability to sleep or shut my mind off, worrying that bad things would happen, memory loss and constant fatigue.
I saw a therapist a few years ago and was diagnosed with anxiety and moderate depression. I was told to make lifestyle changes, and I have been working on that for a few years. It’s not been easy, but I see progress. I’m now able to tell when a funk is coming and work on it before it escalates.
Surprisingly, while I am concerned about the virus, I am the calmest I’ve been in years. I’m a germaphobe, so I can finally let my freak flag fly. I’ve also been working remotely since January, so I’m used to that too. This pandemic has taught me I can’t control everything, and I’m ok with that.
Folake, 27 — My Brain Went Into Overdrive
I’ve always struggled with bouts of anxiety and depression. So, with each new update about the virus, my anxiety kept rising and I couldn’t function at work. I also just moved to a new place where I don’t know anyone, so this made me feel even lonelier. I was sure I’d get it and die alone in my house.
My brain was in overdrive. I was scared of how a full lockdown would breed criminals, and I’d definitely be robbed, raped or killed. Thankfully, I called a friend and he basically calmed me down. Then I started contacting more friends, and the more relaxed everyone seemed, the calmer I got.
Students in Nigerian universities have stories to tell, but hardly anyone to tell them to. For our new weekly series, Aluta and Chill, we are putting the spotlight on these students and their various campus experiences.
This week’s subject is Mariam Adeleye. She talks about how ignoring her mental health affected her academics and how she was asked to withdraw from her first university.
Tell me about how you got into school
I wrote JAMB in 2015 and went for University of Lagos. The original plan was to study medicine and surgery. It didn’t seem UNILAG was going to happen, so I changed my preferred school of choice to University of Ibadan. I made the supplementary list and was offered Medical Laboratory science.
I wasn’t really triggered by the fact that I didn’t get medicine. At that point, I was more determined to get into a school, even if it meant that I wouldn’t get the course I wanted. MLS wasn’t medicine, but it was close.
Did it get off to a good start?
Unfortunately, no. A lot was going on at the time. My grandmother was buried a day before resumption, so I went to school straight from her funeral. I wasn’t in the best state of mind. On my first morning at school, I woke up feeling numb, lost and unsure of what to do. It felt like I was going to be sucked into oblivion. I could have used some guidance there, but there was none. Yeah, it was a rough start.
I’m so sorry about that. How did you navigate the feeling of helplessness?
My first roommate had everything figured out, or so it seemed. She had been in school before I came, so she walked me through the basics — registrations, medicals, and classes. From there, I met other people, and slowly, I began to settle in. However, it wasn’t enough.
What do you mean?
Family issues. My uncle, whom I was close with, was very sick and was on the verge of dying. It was tough to handle that. Perhaps the biggest thing I was struggling with was the pressure to be the best I could be. I’m the first child and the only girl in my family. Standards had been set for me and I was expected to meet and surpass them. It wasn’t fun at all. I don’t think I handled all of these things the right way. I disassociated from people. I was always in class without being there. Also, I had concentration and memory issues. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get a break.
Did it get better, though?
For a brief period, it did. I became friends with a guy and it seemed like I could actually do this uni thing and make it out in one piece. But that didn’t last for long. I realised that I was beginning to develop an unhealthy attachment to him. I’d been so alone for a long time that when he came along, he was the only person I wanted to be with. I recognised how dangerous that could be, so I took a step back from him.
Anyway, I saw my first semester results and they were terrible. I actually thought it was a mistake at first because I didn’t think I could do that badly. It didn’t help that everyone had access to my CGPA. There’s this document in UI — Book of Life — where every student’s CGPA is compiled before it’s presented to the university senate for consideration. It’s supposed to be confidential, but it leaks every semester. So everyone knew how bad my grades were. It was tough dealing with people coming to me to ask about what was wrong. It’s not like they cared, and even if they did, I didn’t need their pity.
Aww. How did you attempt to bounce back?
Again, I pulled back from people. Not necessarily because I wanted to be a studious student, but I didn’t want a repeat of the first semester when everyone was hitting me up to ask if something was wrong. I was fighting for my life now and I thought I could turn everything around. It did get better, but at the end of the semester, my CGPA wasn’t enough to keep me at the department. I was advised to withdraw from the department and was transferred to Zoology.
Whoa! That sucks. I’m sorry.
Telling my parents was the hardest part. I’d disappointed them. They thought I’d lost my chance at studying a “good course.” I remember my mum telling me about how much she cried. Getting kicked out of the department was a dreadful confirmation that I was mediocre and wasn’t cut out for anything good.
I believe you know that’s not true. How did you find the new department when you transferred?
Not good. It wasn’t a bad department but I didn’t think I should be there. My second year was the worst period of my university experience. For the most part, I was trying to convince myself that I liked the department when in actual fact, I didn’t. My mental health took a turn for the worse.
Man!
I tried to take everything a day at a time, but that did little to help. Then the suicidal thoughts started to streak in. It didn’t seem like I had what it took to live.
OMG. That’s a lot. Did you talk to anyone about this?
Only my boyfriend at the time. He was the support system, even though he wasn’t in Ibadan. I got through a lot of stuff because of him.
I didn’t end my life, obviously. However, my quality of life or academics wasn’t better. My grades were still in shambles. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how bad they were until the middle of the second semester. This was my second chance at redeeming myself and I messed it up again.
How?
At the end of my second year in 2019, I was advised to withdraw from the university. My time at UI was over.
Wow! That’s a lot.
Yeah, it was tough. The toughest bit was that I got to know that I’d been kicked out through the Book of Life. I ran to my level coordinator, course adviser, and HOD to see if there was anything I could do. Of course, they couldn’t help. It was final. I’d been sent out of the school.
How did you handle that and everything that came with it?
Not very well. I felt like shit. I had no idea how to tell my parents that I’d failed them again, so I kept it away from them. In hindsight, it wasn’t the brightest idea. My rent was still active, so I stayed in my hostel for four months. When my rent expired and I moved out, I had to tell them.
How did you confront them eventually?
I sent my mum a text and told her that I’d been kicked out of school and that I was suicidal. I couldn’t bear to look at them when I broke the news. My dad was livid and it wasn’t only because of the fact that I was out of school, it was also because it took me four months to come clean. They were disappointed that I’d not lived up to the expectations they’d built around my existence. Thankfully, they got over it quickly and focused on finding the fix.
What was the fix?
I decided to seek professional help about the state of my mental health. I was diagnosed with Recurrent Depressive Disorder. It means that every now and then, I would have episodes of depression and they can range from mild to severe.
Bruh! What did it mean for you to find that out?
I had to accept it. It’s sad that it can’t be cured, the best thing I can do is to manage it. The littlest thing could set down a dark path. The idea that I would live with it all my life is something I still struggle to accept, but it is what it is. My parents thought it was something I could pray away — I wish it was that easy.
Nigerian parents and their belief in prayers.
Right? Anyway, it was good to figure that out. I knew what I was dealing with and how to manage it. This made a lot of things better. In November 2019, I decided that it was time to go back to school. In February 2020, I was accepted into a private university to study psychology.
I’m glad, but why did you decide to go to a private university this time?
My parents were the biggest deciding factor. They thought there was too much freedom in a federal university and believed I would do better in a more structured environment. Also, UI is one of the sane public universities and I couldn’t go back there. I didn’t know what I’d find in others, so it was easier to go for a private university where it is less likely to experience lecturers at their worst.
Fair enough. I think it’s interesting that you’re studying psychology now. Was there any particular reason for that?
It was because of what I had gone through with my mental health. I became fascinated with the idea of studying the human condition. Besides, I developed this drive for social activism and there is a branch of psychology dedicated to that. I’m right where I should be.
What’s it been like so far?
Pretty good. The school is small, which I like. It’s good for me. I find the classes interesting. The people I’ve met are nice. Things are good.
I’m glad. How do you manage your mental health now and stay in control?
I made the biggest control move when I decided to get help. That changed everything. I’m on antidepressants now — that helps to control the extremes of my mood. I’ve made the decision to do only the things that I enjoy. I’m determined this time to stay in control and that’s because I know that I’m in a better position to stay in front of whatever comes around. Also, and this is important, my therapist is only a call away.
Do you think an early diagnosis would have kept you in UI?
Yes, that could have changed a lot of things. I knew something was off, but I didn’t think to get help. Maybe if I had done that, I would have concentrated better. Maybe my memory wouldn’t have been so fucked up. Maybe I wouldn’t have dissociated myself from people. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten kicked out.
However, I know that I made some mistakes. I should have involved my parents earlier. They had their faults too, but they are supportive. They’ve always been supportive. I should have told them what went wrong the moment it went wrong. But we move. I’m in a better place now and that’s all that matters.
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The topic of Mental Health in Nigeria is hardly ever discussed. A problem because according to this report from 2019, 1 in every 4 Nigerians suffers from a mental illness. This lack of information leads to the perpetuation of many dangerous myths about the topic. Today, we’re going to differentiate between facts and myths.
A small number of people with mental illnesses are violent but only when they’re off their medications. The truth is that people struggling with their mental health in Nigeria are more more likely to be victims of violence than the general population.
This one also goes out to the people who think mental health problems are a result of spiritual warfare. If someone you know is exhibiting signs of mental illness, please get a doctor and not the team of exorcists from the church down your street.
Telling someone with clinical depression to “snap out of it” like they’re just having a bad day is rude. You’re belittling the person’s struggle, which is due to chemical imbalances (a thing the person can’t control by themselves). It’s rude and ignorant.
With a combination of medication and therapy, people with mental illnesses can lead normal lives. Chances are you are surrounded by highly active and productive members of society who are also quietly battling mental illnesses.
The report we referenced in the opener of this article says that 1 in 4 Nigerians suffers from a mental illness.
Enough said.
To understand more about mental health in Nigeria, watch this episode of our show, Nigerians Talk, in which we gathered a group of Nigerian millenials to talk about the topic from their POV.
And now that you’re hopefully done watching the video, click here to fill a form which you can use to give us feedback to make Nigerians Talk better.
To get a better understanding of Nigerian life, we started a series called ‘Compatriots’, detailing the everyday life of the average Nigerian. As a weekly column, a new installment will drop every Tuesday, exploring some other aspect of the Nigerian landscape.
This week, we got in touch with a woman who has struggled with mental health almost all of her life. She narrates her ordeal with anxiety and the steps she’s taking to overcome her illness.
I have this fun memory. It’s from 2013, when I was in my second year in university.
It was past 1 am. I had just ended a call and was standing directly outside my hostel – a 4 man room aberration, which instead housed an additional 12 limbs. I was on perhaps my second plot at making a return to my room.
At my first go, knowing most of my roommates were awake, I practised engaging the nicest in conversation as soon as I made my re-entry. Perhaps I would inquire as to why she remained awake and what time her first class of the day was to hold as I made my way to my bed.
On the second try, I toyed with the idea of a stoic re-entry — making a solemn climb to my top-bunk, leaving them to wonder what manner of news I had just received.
At the third iteration, I would simply walk back in, say a jolly goodnight and make my way to bed.
Rehearsing the third plot a second time for good measure, I turned the door handle and made my way into a room filled with girls, almost immorally huddled together. They were too lost in conversation to notice the fidgety roommate who threw a practiced “goodnight” their way, before sauntering off to bed.
You see in 2013, my anxiety had gotten so complex, I couldn’t for the life of me, pick a telephone call or make a casual re-entry into a room without first, second and third guessing myself.
And this was only my reaction to telephone calls.
When I was younger. I was a professional worrywart. I had an inexhaustible list of fears: masquerades, dogs without leashes, naked flames and all costumed cast members of “Tales by Moonlight” to name a few. As I got older these fears went from strictly concrete worries to increasingly versatile sources of consternation.
By secondary school, I had become one of those children whose descriptors usually circled around ‘strange’. I had bad luck making friends and routinely broke out in a sweat when asked questions in class. One time, I infamously froze when directed to address an assembly of my peers, and while this may sound dramatic, I’m sure I saw the face of death at the turn of every examination.
At the time, beyond a popular hymn, I had no notion of the concept of anxiety. I would never have thought to class my bewilderment in the face of public addresses or the daily foreboding I experienced making the drive up to the school gates, as anything other than a typical teenage aversion to education. Had my school counselling unit served as anything but a glorified sorting hat, it’s still highly unlikely I would have ventured in to seek guidance for what was so clearly, the beginning stages of anxiety.
When I made the leap to university, my anxiety had grown, seemingly overnight from an almost understanding juvenile nuisance, to an ugly, three-headed and gnarled thing lurking in the shadows, waiting on any moment, opportune or otherwise to make an appearance.
To have a sense of my situation, imagine having to question just about every social interaction you possibly engage in: getting into a bus convinced the passengers hate you, having to rehearse a speech before making purchases at the market, dissolving into steam at the thought of giving a presentation, etc., then you might have a faint idea of how my time in university went and how the world currently plays out for me.
Following my hostel re-entry incident, I began to wonder if there wasn’t more to my years of incessant worry. When I came across Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) — a result produced from an internet search of my symptoms — I approached the diagnosis with the trepidation of a cold-sufferer, Google-diagnosed with cancer. Could I really have a mental health issue?
“Social anxiety disorder or social anxiety is an excessive emotional discomfort, fear, or worry about social situations.” It went on to list its symptoms, from which I had my pick.
Yes, I had an excessive fear of embarrassment. Therein lay the real reason I woke at 4 am to clean up in the hostel bathroom, and not the supposed state of cleanliness of the bathroom as I liked to claim.
And correct, I avoided situations where I could be the centre of attention, if my illogical avoidance of the Engineering faculty walkway was anything to go by. But it seemed all too generic, indicative of mere timidity and not what could potentially be a mental health condition.
It just seemed ironic that this disorder could easily be conflated with a heightened sense of importance. After all, it angles on an individual believing themselves the center of attention, a position I would have given away tax free.
But even my doubt couldn’t explain away my sweaty palms when carrying out trivial things like ordering food at a crowded restaurant, or my most extreme reaction till date — a one-week anxiety fueled bender, where I lost almost 2 kg in weight, complete with panic attacks and spontaneous tears, brought on by the fear of failing a final year exam for which I was prepared.
Or somehow never being able to hold on to relationships and maintaining solitary, indoor weekends, public holidays and sick days with the fervency of the devout.
It’s been years since I accepted my SAD diagnosis, triple confirmed through a series of tests and a consultation. While self-help in the form of assertiveness, breathing exercises and step-by-step planning have been my key tools in managing the disorder; a little divine help has come in from time to time, to manage its management in the giant of Africa, Nigeria.
Here, I’ve had to forego sick days on account of anxiety attacks for fear of being labelled the office-crazy, a tag I’ve tried my hardest to avoid in a still mentally closeted country. Or having to every couple of months, remind your family that you cannot — no matter what apostle says — pray away the disorder.
I wish I could say my anxiety was in the past, that I’m now cured and do not consider retreating to a hermit life every fortnight, but I’m learning that it’s okay sometimes to admit that there’s something wrong or to reach out and ask for help. It’s a step-by-step process and I’m okay with that.
As far as the average Nigerian is concerned mental health issues don’t exist for us. If you are depressed or suffering from some sort of mental illness, it’s either your village people who are doing you or you need deliverance. In fact, if you’ve ever heard a Nigerian talk about mental health we are pretty sure you heard something along the lines of these statements.
“Have you prayed about it? Let me give you my pastor’s number”
“It’s that the only thing that’s doing you, your own is even small, my landlord gave me quit notice yesterday”
“I don’t blame you, it’s because you don’t have real problems to think about”
“Depressed ke? God forbid, have you eaten today, maybe you are hungry”
“You want to talk to a therapist? For what? It’s like you think you are oyinbo”
“Ahan you too you are depressed, it’s like this thing is trending now”
“Better go and pray about it, such shall never be your portion in Jesus name”
“It’s just a phase jo it’ll pass, don’t worry”
“Ahan you are wearing cloth, you can eat everyday, there are clothes on your back, what more do you want?”
“You just like to dey overthink, it’s not that serious”
“You want to get help? You don’t know that you have to help yourself first abi?”
“Are you the only one? We are all sad please, stop making a big deal about it”
“You just like attention sha”
“At your small age, what do you have to be anxious about?”
“You are just too sensitive abeg”
“You have to pray more o, don’t let the devil manifest himself in your life”
“Wait I don’t understand, so…you are mad?”
“Wo you are not alone, the way it’s doing you is the way it’s doing all of us.”
“Shh don’t talk about it, you want your enemies to use it against you?”
If you’ve ever been guilty of saying any of the above, we are here to tell you that you need to do better. If you know someone who is struggling with mental health issues, it’s not enough to just help them pray about it.
If you need someone to talk to, the guys at MANI are doing incredible work, and we stan.
Hi Family, Today looks like a particularly good day to talk about @mentallyawareng (MANI), our amazing volunteers, the extent of our services offered and our limitations. THREAD. Please do RT #iammentalllyaware#keeptalkingMH
On March 19, while most Nigerians were on the way back home from church driving back home church, Dr Orji- a Nigerian doctor on his way to Lagos Island- allegedly ordered his unsuspecting driver to park on the Third Mainland bridge, stepped out of his car and jumped into the lagoon, ending his own life.
This sad news, unfortunately not first of its kind, once again highlights the importance and also absence of adequate mental health awareness in Nigeria.
1. Being a vocal bunch, especially when it comes to social issues, Nigerians on Twitter chooked mouth in news a
Tonight is mental awareness night. Empathize, spread the word, whatever. Anything but proffer solutions to a problem u don't even understand
