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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.
For more on what goes on inside the life, please click here
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.
