mental health struggles

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.

Conrad Johnson-Omodiagbe

December 5, 2021

Man Dem, Man Like

Man like, Mandem, mental health, mental health struggles, Nollywood
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?

Conrad Johnson-Omodiagbe

November 22, 2021

Man Dem

Mandem, Men, mental health, mental health struggles, Nigerian Men
Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.

Chinasa, 26, and Ugo, 30, started having sex while they were in relationships with other people. Today on Love Life, they talk about coming together only to break-up, and the ways they have grown individually and as a couple.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Chinasa: We met on Facebook. I wrote a post complaining about people’s reactions to erotic posts, and he came into my comments to agree with me. That was the first time I noticed him. I clicked on his profile and saw that he was in Bauchi, where I was serving. I was looking for friends then, and to find someone in the same state seemed nice. I sent him a message saying I was in Bauchi and would love to meet up whenever he had a chance. We fixed a date to meet, he cancelled. We fixed another, and that’s where this whole story begins.

Ah, you have told me the whole thing na. Ugo, please take the stage.

Ugo: I first saw her on Facebook. She commented on somebody’s post, something about Bauchi. I clicked her profile and saw that she was serving in Bauchi — the same state I lived in. I sent a friend request, thinking we could hang out and be friends…

Chinasa: My dear, please add that it was my bumbum you saw.

LMAO. When you finally met, what was your first impression of each other?

Chinasa: I thought he looked taller in real life. Quiet too. But the most exciting thought I had was that he looked corruptible.

Ugo: She wears glasses, so she had this quiet appeal. I didn’t think of anything else. I was busy doing my best to avoid her eyes. It wasn’t until I moved in with her shortly after that my impression of her became clearer, better formed.

We’ll address that moving in soon. Chinasa, when you say Ugo looked corruptible, what did you have in mind then?

Chinasa: I was looking for someone to be my friend with benefits. I had just moved to Bauchi where I didn’t know anyone, and I wanted to rediscover myself after a tough relationship and a traumatic incident. After four months, I knew I wanted someone. But I got scared whenever anyone came on strong. So I was kind of looking for someone who would be a friend first, and the benefits part would be at my own pace.

Ugo had this gentle demeanour that made me feel safe having him in my house, and I thought the gentility hid a lot more things.

So, how did the moving in together happen, and when?

Ugo: We started hanging out and talking to each other a lot. Then I started leaving my things in her place one by one. It was a disguise sha, because I knew I liked her at this point. But then I found out she had a boyfriend.

Ahan. Another revelation? Let me keep this in my left hand.

Chinasa: Well, on the very first day he came to my place, I found that he had a girlfriend and they had been together for four years. So the gentility did hide some things.

Ahhh. What’s going on here?

Chinasa: Let me rearrange it for you. We texted; I liked him. We met up for the first time, and I was doing something with his phone when I saw someone’s name saved as Obi’m. I asked him about it, and he told me that yes, he was indeed in a relationship. Since he had a girlfriend, I started talking to someone that same month and a week later, I started dating this person online.

Okay then. Ojoro cancel.

Chinasa: First of all, he did not “find out” that I had a boyfriend. I told him myself. Also, after I found out about his relationship, I told myself that we could just stay friends and if the sex came, I was down to get it. The sex was not dependent on his girlfriend. I didn’t care about that.

Ugo: My relationship with my girlfriend at the time was nearing its end. Rather unfairly, I’d checked out of the relationship mentally — it was a chaotic three-year relationship and I was exhausted — but I never made this clear to my girlfriend.

When I met Chinasa and we started vibing, I felt that deeply satisfying feeling you get when you drink a glass of chilled water after running around a football pitch for 90 minutes. She was gentle with her words and touch, the sex was fucking awesome, and she listened.

So the sex happened after all…

Chinasa: And then his girlfriend showed up at my door with her friends.

Hay God.

Chinasa: It was a Saturday, I think. Ugo was at my place when someone knocked on my door. It was weird; I didn’t know anyone who lived nearby and could come visiting. When Ugo heard her voice, he went to the door. She claimed she wanted to talk, but it seemed to me like she came ready to create a scene. Ugo led her away.

For me, I was confused. I thought he had made it clear to her that they were done. When he came back inside, I asked him what happened, and he said that she came with her friends to beg him not to break up. She thought the talk of splitting up was a phase he would get over.

Ugo: I came out straight and told my girlfriend at the time that we were done the day she came knocking on Chinasa’s door. I wanted us to become a thing, so I had to act.

Chinasa: That incident caused my first fight with Ugo. I told him to fix whatever issue they had because I didn’t want to be accused of snatching someone’s boyfriend and getting beat up on the road for something I did not do.

Ugo: I understood her fear. She was in a strange land, didn’t speak the local language and had very few friends who didn’t even live in the same area.

But Chinasa and I were never officially in a relationship until towards the end of her service year. Her boyfriend was in the picture for much of it, and she too wanted things to come to a natural end with him.

But wait first. Chinasa, how did you feel about being in a relationship with someone else and still having sex with Ugo?

Chinasa: I felt nothing. My “boyfriend” and I vibed a lot, but the sex was so terrible, it couldn’t even be remedied. Because I liked him as a person, I made the mistake of not establishing strong boundaries with him. When he started referring to me as his girlfriend, I didn’t feel alarmed; there was a long-distance between Enugu where he was and Bauchi where I was.

When I count my relationships, I don’t count him as part of it. I knew that the relationship, or whatever I was doing with this guy, was not feasible and it was a problem to be dealt with so I could face Ugo squarely.

Ugo: And I broke up with my girlfriend so I could also face you squarely too. I chose you. I will always choose you.

Chinasa: And I choose you too. But I will be honest, the girlfriend coming to the house made me very anxious.

I had no idea that they didn’t officially break up. The girl was living with someone, and I assumed she had moved on before they officially broke up. So, to see her come knocking was a bit shocking. I think it’s one of the reasons my relationship with Ugo didn’t fully take off till I finished my service and left Bauchi.

How did the take-off happen?

Chinasa: Two days before I left, I told him I wanted him to be my boyfriend.

Ugo: And I said yes and went to meet her in Enugu.

Chinasa: The Enugu meeting was a mini vacation. We spent the weekend together, and I showed him a few places. His showing up indicated that he would make the effort to make this work despite the distance.

And you were right?

Chinasa: Yes, he was solidly there. But between my master’s and his service, things became crazy. I started my master’s, and he was posted to Taraba for his NYSC service. He later relocated to Jos.

I was going through a lot of changes, and I kept him out of it because I felt he wouldn’t understand. Wrong move.

Ugo: We had to break up.

I’m sorry that happened. What led to the break-up? What changes were you going through?

Ugo: She didn’t care about my career. I started taking my writing seriously, and I wanted her to care about it as I did. I would send her my work, and it seemed like she wasn’t reading or paying the required amount of attention to it, and I felt hurt by this. I thought I could live with the hurt, but I couldn’t. And so I called her one day and asked that we break up.

Chinasa: Leaving Bauchi threw me out into the real world, and it was cold, discomfiting. Before Bauchi and in Bauchi, I had done a lot more growing up. One of the things that happened was that I quit the church, which was a large part of my identity, because religion didn’t work for me and there was a lot of hurt I was dealing with.

Also, I didn’t get a job on time after service. It felt like I was floating, and there was no landing pad of any sort.

And in all of this, you still had to read his work and give comments…

Chinasa: But it was more than that, I’ll be honest. He had a lot of free time and was expecting more attention from me. He was used to seeing me all the time and thought it would continue like that. But I was in the east, grappling with everything, and it didn’t work. Whenever he complained that I wasn’t calling or texting, I would think, “Oh please, not now. Not now. Not with everything I am going through.”

Master’s admission came through and it was hell too. I felt like I was floating along, not understanding anything and trying my best to stay afloat. And in all of this, we were both broke.

When he called for a breakup, I felt like he was the most insensitive person. You knew I was going through this much and you chose to break up? Wow. But even with the hurt, I still felt the relief of no longer having to deal with the burden.

And you people ended up cancelling the break up.

Chinasa: After we broke up, we started talking more. He came to Enugu too, and it was easier to explain things to him without feeling judged. I owned up to my inadequacies, and I felt more equipped to name the things I was going through, more knowledgeable about what I wanted from life and how I needed him to help.

It would also be nice to mention that my master’s results came in around this time and it was all A’s. Other things started falling into place.

How’s the relationship now? Where’s your head at?

Ugo: I feel more secure now in our love than I used to be. There’s a kind of assuredness; a feeling that whatever happens, we will both always make an effort to genuinely understand each other. We are in a good place. The relationship is sort of open, if I can call it that.

How did it become open?

Chinasa: I told him I wanted an open relationship when we were long distance because I didn’t want to be sneaky about being with other people. I learnt fast that I wasn’t a monogamous person, and in the spirit of being more honest with my choices, I told him.

The first time, he rejected the idea. The second time, it felt like he was trying to please me. When I had my mental health episodes, my sex drive nosedived, but I met someone, felt a spark and told Ugo. He agreed I could pursue it.

That first stint didn’t end well because we didn’t have boundaries. We realised we had shit we were avoiding and being with other people wasn’t going to fix it. So we agreed to focus on fixing our issues after some time.

We are open again, but for me, it’s just about honesty. For over two years now, I’ve just been meh about things. I live in a remote place now and make no effort to meet people, so it’s open in the sense that we are both open if it happens. But on my side, I’m not actively looking.

Ugo: It’s the same for me really. If anything happens I’ll let her know, but I’m not actively looking.

What do you love most about each other?

Ugo: That will be her gentleness, kindness and the effort she makes to try and understand my perspective. The latter is part of the reason we’ve come this far.

Chinasa: Ugo is kind, steady and cares for me. Using care here is deliberate. I’m not good at saying what I need, but he’s patient enough to wait till I figure it out and also make things happen before I ask.

Ugo: My heart.

Chinasa: Being with him has been one of the highlights of my life. It’s the first time I’ve fully been myself without apologies in a relationship. People who know us tend to have this idea that he loves me more. I think it’s because they are not familiar with relationships that don’t fit gender stereotypes. For instance, he has moved cities more to be with me because I’m not domestic at all and usually forget to feed myself. He had to move some months ago, and it was hell for me to adjust. It still is.

But the truth is that he’s the one who truly anchors me and us. His steadiness calms down my own scatter-scatter attitude to life. And, Ugo, you are home.

What are the things you both do that you don’t like and would like to see improvement in?

Chinasa: Our biggest fights used to be about ambition. He has a really laid back approach to life that I don’t understand, especially because I’m impatient. I love the thrill of pursuing things. So sometimes, I wish he was more assertive instead of waiting for everything to align first. His process works for him, so I’ve learnt to leave him alone. Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying.

Ugo: Exactly this, but on the flip side. She sometimes forgets that not everyone is like her. There was a period I started to feel that she was on my back breathing down my neck even though I knew she meant well.

She’s already improving on this though.

How would you rate this relationship on a scale of 1-10?

Ugo: 8. Most of our issues happen when somebody isn’t being completely upfront. I want us to reach a place of honesty where it isn’t hard at all to tell each other anything; where it simply comes.

Chinasa: I’ll say a strong 8 with room to be even better. We really grew this year, worked on ourselves and are working towards more things to help us be in the best capacity for ourselves and each other. I don’t intend to get married, but we are doing this long term so I believe we should have long term plans (building our finances, achieving our life and career goals, etc) in place.

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Kunle Ologunro

October 14, 2021

Love Life, Ships

bauchi, Enugu\, long distance relationship, mental health struggles
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.

Olufemi Fadahunsi

May 13, 2021

Inside Life

mental health, Mental health awareness, mental health struggles, mental illness
As men, we are under constant and intense pressure to put up a strong front. When we feel overwhelmed, our first instinct is to cover it up or pretend it’s not there. We put up acts to show that we’re strong and this isn’t helped by society telling us at every front to “man up” while we’re crumbling on the inside.

Men suffering from depression are four times more likely to commit suicide than women. Worsened by the fact that men are often in denial of their feelings, depression is often overlooked and ignored in men. September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day. To raise awareness on the dangers of unacknowledged and untreated depression, we talked to 4 men about their struggles with depression and how they’ve found hope.

Bolu, 22

Last year, I tried to kill myself. I felt empty, without purpose or ambition. I was convinced I was an unloved waste of space and money and that life wasn’t worth it. I suffered from incessant mood swings, anger issues, erratic sleeping patterns, memory loss and didn’t take baths unless I had to go out. After my suicide attempt, I tried to contact a mental awareness organisation who didn’t reply to me until my third contact. They sent a bunch of hospital options, most of which were pretty far from me.

I called one of the options in Lekki and I was told I’d need N100,000 to register, which I definitely couldn’t afford. So I called the Yaba Psychiatric hospital. I was told I only needed to pay N4,000 to register there. When I got there, I met with an off-duty doctor who told me they only attended to serious cases there and referred me to the Oshodi annex of the hospital.

At the Oshodi Annex, I recounted my experience at Yaba to the doctor who told me that the Yaba doctor had lied to me, for reasons unknown. She said I should have been attended to. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the name of the doctor, so we couldn’t follow-up.

I registered as an outpatient at the Oshodi annex and was placed on a regimen of drugs and therapy in January. After three months and two changes in my medication and dosage, I started to notice changes. Some of the meds had side effects like making me unable to orgasm.

On the whole, I’m feeling much better than I used to. I haven’t had a suicidal thought in several months. I still lack drive and ambition but I’d say I’m a work in progress.

Abdulazeez, 22

I’ve never had a good record of mental health. My first two suicide attempts were in secondary school. It was a really rough period for me: I struggled internally with my sexuality, masturbation, religion and morality. I tried and failed to kill myself by jumping off a ladder.

I didn’t know how to deal with my personality and hyperactive mind, so I began to self-mutilate (cut myself). The pain was my coping mechanism for getting through all the mental turmoil.

In uni, the mental torture continued because I didn’t address the underlying issues. Relationships became toxic and I was devastated because I felt like I was a social anathema. I tried to kill myself at different times by slashing my wrists and overdosing on drugs but I lost heart. I still have a lot of scars on my wrists from all the attempts.

I haven’t gotten help yet because I can’t afford it so I spend a shit ton of time on self-help and psychology videos on YouTube. I feel much better now and I feel less inclined to kill myself. I still need a professional psychologist to help me unearth all the underlying issues. It’ll be a part of my budget when I start working.

I don’t feel like going to most Nigerian government hospitals; I’m a bi-curious polyamorous baddie with daddy issues and Nigerian therapists are basically like pastors, with all their religious talks.

Daniel, 25

My depression began by being disillusioned by everything around me after I experienced sexual abuse when I was 10. Because I couldn’t tell anyone, I ended up withdrawing into a shell, which is my default mode now. People constantly called me a sadist because I never smiled or engaged with anyone, which made me retreat further into myself.

By the time I was in JSS3, I already made plans on how I’d kill myself, if I decided to do so. I became really interested in mass shootings like Columbine and Virginia Tech but I found a support group that silenced the voice. By the time I entered uni, the voice resurfaced and became so bad that I started actively avoiding being alone because I wasn’t sure what I’d do. It was also in uni that I completely gave up on therapy because they all has religious leanings. It annoyed me further because the person who abused me in the first place was a religious figure.

Because I wanted to be far from my family and be able to commit suicide without feeling guilty, I opted to go to the Abuja campus of the Nigerian Law School. Fortunately, I found a support group and I didn’t go through with it.

I have tried to commit suicide twice but both times, I wimped out and puked out the pills. Now, I’m on medication that helps me. While my mind still flirts with thoughts of suicide, I somehow haven’t descended to the depths I had reached before.

Lanre, 29

I occasionally experience waves of depression and strong suicide ideation. The depressive episodes come in waves, so I have on and off days. I’ve not gone through with actually killing myself because I want to live forever.

I used to be on medication but I stopped because they were pricey. Also, I started exploring non-medical approaches to dealing with my feelings. Now, I have support groups. I don’t feel like I’m all the way there, but I’m definitely not as bad as I used to be.

Read: 6 Nigerian Woman Share Their Mental Health Journey

Man Like – A series about men, for men, by men. Every Sunday by 12PM.

Olufemi Fadahunsi

September 10, 2020

Man Dem

depression, mental health struggles, suicide prevention
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.

Stephanie, 21

Superpower: Ghosting

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 be woke anymore, I want to sleep. I’m tired.

For more more stories like this, read How living with my family triggered panic attacks.

Eris Ekanem

September 10, 2020

Her

mental health, Mental health awareness, mental health struggles, Women, women in nigeria
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.

Are you currently studying in Nigeria or elsewhere and have a story to share about your life in school? Please take a minute to fill this form and we will reach out to you ASAP.

Can’t get enough Aluta and Chill? Check back every Thursday at 9 AM for a new episode. Find other stories in the series here.

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Toheeb Lanlehin

March 19, 2020

Aluta and Chill

antidepressants, depression, mental health, mental health struggles
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 subject of this week’s story is Itohan Esekheigbe-Joe, who is in her second year of university, studying English Language and Literature at University of Benin. She talks about fighting to be in control of her mental health.

Can you tell me about the moment you knew it was UNIBEN for you?

It wasn’t a “this-is-the-school-I’m-destined-to-be-in moment. It was more of an “I-want-to-get-far-away-from-my-parents” thing. My heart was actually set on University of Ibadan at first because nobody knew me there, but I woke up one day and decided that it wouldn’t be a good fit for me. Funny enough, the parents I was trying to run from suggested UNIBEN. It was a safe option for them because my dad is from Benin and we have family there. I thought why the hell not? I get away from you and bond with the rest of the family. Everybody wins.

How did you feel when it was confirmed that you would be leaving home as you wanted?

It was scary — a mix of overlapping emotions. I don’t think I had a second of sleep the night before I travelled. Luckily, my mum came with me and stayed in Benin for a few days to make sure I settled in. But she left, and it was all me from there.

Did you have an idea of what to expect?

You know how Nigerian parents can be; I was warned about cultists, against doing runs, about destiny snatchers…

Wait. Is destiny snatchers code for something?

No. Like literal ‘destiny snatchers’. The warning goes like “Don’t borrow people your clothes because the husband that was meant for you might see it on the girl who borrowed it, and she would snatch your destiny and marry your husband, and you’d be there doing your rounds at Shiloh every year while they live happily ever after.”

LMAO. That’s interesting.

I got a lot of information and warnings I didn’t ask for. But nobody told me what really mattered.

What’s that?

The damage this school thing can do. I was left to find all that out on my own. I got in to study English and Literature, which I actually love. But everything related to bagging this degree seems like a grand ploy to end my life.

When did you start to feel that way?

At the end of my first year, I think. I’m an only child, so my parents have extremely high expectations of me. I also have a really smart cousin. These two things put me under pressure, which is probably why I felt crushed when the results of the first-semester exam came out and I didn’t get the straight As my cousin got. It was at that moment I started to clock that my time here might be a long one.

Also, there is my department. The lecturers in my department boast that you cannot get a first-class. There is this urban legend – we call it that because it’s the one recurring story lecturers tell fresh students. It goes something like: “The first person who got a first-class degree in the English and Literature department died a few weeks later.” I don’t know what to make of that, but it seems like they’re saying if you graduate with a first-class, you’ve signed your death sentence.

That’s terrifying.

Yes, and mysterious. Nobody really knows the story. What I do know is that my department is all shades of fucked-up. There is this thing that happens at the end of the semester — usually a week or two before exams start — where the lecturers remember that they’ve not held the tests that are supposed to make up 30 % of the general assessment. That means back to back tests and assignments. I have a name for this week – Hell Week. It gets really overwhelming because you go to classes not knowing what to expect. Then, this week ends and the semester exams begin. It’s a whole lot. This is some of the information I could have used: the power the university system has over my sanity.

When did everything start to get really overwhelming for you?

First semester, 200 level. I’d been having a lot of bad days primarily because of how pretty much everyone wanted me to get my grades up. There was this day when my lecturers announced that we were going to write three tests before the day ended — my body system didn’t take kindly to this and I had my first panic attack since I got to school right there in class. I’ve had them a few times before UNIBEN, but they were never that bad.

That’s rough.

It can be at times, and anything related to stress and anxiety can trigger an episode. Everyone wants you to do better, but they don’t understand that you’re doing the best you can. So it feels like you have to sacrifice yourself to get the grades they think you should have and just cope with everything else — panic attacks or not.

What happened after the first panic attack?

I clocked that this university was trying to kill me. In the midst of the attack, I realised that nothing really stopped for me; everyone continued with their life. For a moment, I thought I could actually stop caring and take the best care of myself, but man, that’s a hard thing to do. We’ve been brought up to care about stuff like this. The attack, however, made me realise that my mental health was going to shit.

Were there other episodes?

Yes, there were. That was the first of many. Sometimes, they were so bad that I’d call my mum and cry over the phone.

Is there any way you’re handling all this?

I’m seeing a therapist; it was the next best thing to do.

Not everyone takes the step to see a therapist: when did you decide that you needed one?

After the panic attacks became frequent, I knew I had to talk to someone because I was slowly losing my mind. I hadn’t decided on a therapist at that point, though. However, I realised that the people I could talk to can’t really help me. I knew that because I had another full-blown panic attack. This one felt like it was going to rip my heart out of my chest. After I calmed down, I spoke to a friend and she told me to see a therapist. I listened and got myself one.

What does this cost?

A chunk out of my sanity at first, because it was difficult to suppress the part of me was convinced that I was crazy. Also, I had to hide where I was going from some people because I didn’t want to see them look at me in a certain way. For the money part: let’s just say it costs me money I would rather not be spending, but it’s fine.

How’s it working out?

Okay, I guess. We’ve figured out a bit about me. I’ve been diagnosed with moderate depression. Actually, she said I probably had that for some time, but coming to Benin brought it to the fore. She’s helping me work through everything, especially the anxiety bit. It should get better from here.

Also, this makes me think about the number of students that are depressed but don’t actually know partly because of the label and stigma associated with mental health. I used to think that having to see a therapist meant that I was crazy, but I’m not. If there is anything I have learned from seeing one, it’s that I’m everything but crazy.

Do you feel like other students are going through the same thing too?

Definitely. I see some of my friend’s notes, and I see tear stains on them. People actually cry when they read. This year alone, about 6 students have attempted to commit suicide in UNIBEN. That’s the number I have; chances are that there are more.

What do you think management across Nigerian universities can do to put this in check?

We should have more counsellors in school. Actual professionals students can actually talk to. It would save a lot of lives. Students rely on their friends more than they should. For starters, these friends are likely not trained professionals. Also, they have their own demons to fight. Now, if the people in charge of the affairs of the university system can direct the students under their care to where they can actually get help, that could make things better. I don’t see that happening at the moment, but fingers crossed.

Fair. You’re moving on to your third year, do you have an idea of how that is going to be?

It signifies that I’m close to graduation, and that’s something I’m looking forward to. I could use a break, but I’m trying to graduate by 20. I really want that for myself, so while I’m not sure what the next two years are going to be, I will have to survive it. The next two years shouldn’t be as bad as the last two, anyway. I know how to take care of myself better now. I’m learning how to take a pause and breathe when everything begins to get overwhelming.

How do you think your struggles with mental health has changed you?

Well, I didn’t need to see a therapist two years ago, Now, I’m texting my therapist like ‘help me’. Make of that what you will. Before I came here, I had so much hope, so much steel, and determination, but this school has broken me, and now, I’m picking up the pieces and hoping to patch myself up. To be honest, I’m just trudging on, fighting to hold on to the bulk of my sanity. It’s a freaking war zone out here. But we locomote.

Can’t get enough Aluta and Chill? Check back every Thursday at noon for a new episode. Find other stories in the series here.

Toheeb Lanlehin

December 26, 2019

Aluta and Chill

mental health struggles
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

— MentallyAwareNigeria (@MentallyAwareNG) August 19, 2018

Toketemu Ohwovoriole

October 10, 2018

General

Anxiety, depression, mental health, Mental health awareness, mental health struggles, Nigeria, Nigerians, suicide prevention, suicide\