suicide prevention

The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.

This week’s subject on Abroad Life was applying to universities on a whim, during her NYSC, when one suddenly offered her a scholarship. She shares the quirks of living in England, including the bitter cold of winter, overt classism and the slow healthcare system.

When did you decide to move abroad?

I never decided; I would say it happened on a whim. During my NYSC in 2021, I decided to apply to a couple of universities for a Chevening scholarship because someone said I could write. And I got admission, with a partly-funded scholarship worth 50 per cent of the tuition, to study cyberpsychology at Nottingham Trent.

What did you study before this?

I got into the University of Lagos to study law in 2011, but I switched to psychology in 2014 after I was diagnosed with a mental illness. Fast forward to 2019, I graduated and deferred my NYSC service year until 2021 due to health reasons. Then I worked in an advertising agency until I got laid off in March 2021. I was out of a job until May when I started working with a fintech startup. NYSC posted me to Abuja, where I started working at a psychiatric center.

Then you got the scholarship admission?

Yes, didn’t finish my NYSC. I also applied for a visa. It wasn’t exactly planned because I left in a bit of a rush, but it wasn’t difficult. An agent did everything for me for almost nothing.

Really?

Yup. There are agents who help you process your application, visa, and everything else for free. They get paid by the school when you pay your fees. The only things I had to spend money on were printing, photocopying and the visa application fee.

When did you arrive in England?

In October 2021 at around 5 p.m. I must say, there were a lot of checks at Heathrow, but once you get past them, you’re good to go.

Did you experience any culture shocks?

Oh my God, a lot. Especially because of my health. My first winter here was hell. Do you know how they say the seventh circle of hell is freezing cold? That’s how it was for me. It was lonely, but adjusting to the cold was one thing. In Nigeria, you don’t need to do so many registrations to access basic services, but that’s not the case here. You have to register your address with a general practitioner (GP) to get access to healthcare. You need to get a phone number to work legally. Also, it’s an English-speaking country, but I don’t understand what the hell they’re saying half of the time.

Wait, what?

It’s like they’re talking through their noses half the time. I’m sure most people thought I was illiterate my first few months here because I was trying to understand even the tiniest of sentences. The education system is also very different from Nigeria’s which is more knowledge-based. In England, it’s more analysis-based and focuses on critical thinking.

How’s school going?

I’m currently extending my studies without a scholarship. I couldn’t complete the coursework in the first year because of my health. I’m currently working and using my living expenses to pay the fees.

What about friends? Have you made any?

I only have like one or two friends. None of them are purely British. I tend to make friends with Chinese people because I can relate more to their culture and worldview. They understand things like background, respect, etc., more than Caucasians. I’ve not had any run-ins with disrespectful white people, but that’s the general vibe they give off.

Tell me about how health affected your studies

I became suicidal in January [2022].

OMG. What happened?

So, in England, you have to register with a GP. You can’t just walk into the hospital and get attended to. Appointments have to be made months in advance. I started my GP registration in October 2021. However, my first appointment to see a psychiatrist was in February 2022. The medication I brought from Nigeria finished in November 2021. By January, I had to go into the emergency room because I was suicidal. I had a couple of friends in healthcare in Nigeria, and luckily, two of them are psychiatrists. When they saw the warning signs of depression, and a constant desire to be alone, they advised me to go to the emergency room.

So sorry you had to go through that. Has the healthcare system improved since then?

Nope. It’s still just the worst. When you pay for a visa, you pay something called the Immigration Health Surcharge (IHS) that covers hospital visits, GP registrations, tests, and whatnot. Things like dental and optical services are not covered, but I don’t really need them. The one thing I know I have had to deal with that’s NOT covered is medication. I’ve had to pay for it out of my pocket per prescription.

So here’s how payment per prescription works. If I’m prescribed three different meds, and each of them goes for £20, £30 and £40 respectively, no matter how many pills are in the bottle, I’d still pay that amount. I could be made to pay 40 for one bottle of 10 pills, for instance, which is a ridiculous amount of money. In Nigeria, the price of drugs is dependent on how many tablets you buy.

The healthcare system here is just really slow, inefficient, and they don’t really care. The hospital staff sees taking care of you as just “doing the job”. It’s not about improving your life. In a way, I understand because the NHS is overworked and underfunded. But the healthcare service is definitely my least favorite thing about England.

What else don’t you like?

Hmm. The classism. I once had a shift at a race course in Cheltenham, and you could easily differentiate who was poor from who was middle class or posh without even talking to them. When the “posh” people do talk to you, they do it with a subtle air of arrogance.

Do you have any favorite things about England?

Definitely the standard of living; it’s much higher than that of Nigeria. Also, it’s an easy country to live in once you’ve adjusted to the system, in terms of access to basic amenities and whatnot.

Would you ever return to Nigeria?

England is cold and boring compared to Lagos life, so I know I’ll come back at some point. However, I don’t think I’d like to give up the standard of living here. In my fintech job, they paid me ₦150k a month. But I can get so much more than that in the same role here in England. Nigeria will always be home, but it needs to be fixed with structure before I can go back.

Chiamaka Dike

November 18, 2022

Abroad Life, Citizen

abroad life, citizen, England, Nigeria, Nigerians, suicide prevention
TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, rape and suicide.

Editor’s note: Last week, Jumoke* sent me a message on Twitter saying she had a story for me. We had a conversation and here’s what she told me:

My dad was physically abusive to us growing up. There was a time he stripped my mum naked and pushed her out at night. Another time, he gave her a black eye. The area around the eye is still black to date. I’m not saying my mum didn’t have her own issues but my dad was worse. My mum paid the bills while my dad preferred to spend money on his second wife and his friends. Both of them beat us for any offence we committed. My dad would strip us naked and beat us. I used to tell people they were not my real parents, and that I was adopted.

When I was 5, the rent at the house we lived in expired so my parents decided to move into their own house which was still under construction. They felt it wasn’t safe for us to stay in an uncompleted building so they took us to live with our grandparents for a while. There, my uncles always had visitors over. One of them was a man named Tawfiq* — he lived on the same street as us. Whenever my uncles wanted to go out, they would leave me at his house. Tawfiq would take me to the uncompleted part of the building and make me do things to him. Sometimes he would make me suck his penis. At other times, he would rub it on my labia. He would finger me and do other things that I shouldn’t have known at that age. Afterwards, he would threaten to beat me if I ever told anyone. Beatings were regular — I knew I would definitely get beaten if I reported it, so it continued for months.

My father took a second wife when I was in JS 3. He would send me to her house to help with housework, and she would use me like a rag. Eventually, my parents decided to split and we had to pick whom we wanted to stay with. I picked my mum and my dad promptly disowned me. When I was about to enter the university, my mum introduced me to the Dean of student affairs in my school. He was my mentor — I even called him daddy. One time I was having issues at school and my mum fought me a lot about it. She reported me to the dean and he asked me to come and see him in Osogbo where he lived. He picked me up from the park and he was talking about school and what my mum had told him so I was relaxed. He said he wanted us to have privacy as he had guests at home so he drove us to a guest house. I didn’t even think of how he knew the gateman’s name, and how the front desk person had set up his usual room for him. He was a father figure to me. There was no need to suspect anything. Anyway, he raped me. I begged him. I reminded him that I am his son’s age and classmate. When I threatened to scream, he laughed. After struggling for a while, I gave up and let him have his way. I just stayed there and stared at the ceiling thinking about Tawfiq. When he finished, he said he didn’t know I was a virgin because I looked like a big girl. I cleaned up and went back to school.

I knew nobody would believe me. After all, I went with him to the guest house. I tried to tell someone about it and she said it wasn’t possible, “He doesn’t need to do that to get girls to sleep with him.” When I told my mum, she asked what I was wearing. Nobody gave me the support I needed, so the rest of my stay at the university was a blur. I sought solace in drinking and eating heavily. I told myself that if I looked unattractive enough, then no one would want to abuse me. I used to say, “People will betray you but food won’t.” I could count on filling my stomach to make me feel better. After eating, I would feel bad because I had eaten so much, then I would eat some more to comfort myself.

Of course, it didn’t work. I tried to kill myself but that didn’t work either. Sometime in 2020, there was an uproar on social media about sexual abuse. There was a protest happening at the time. I remember waking up one morning to see a picture of Tawfiq and his daughter on Instagram. He and his family live abroad. He looked like he was balling, and the only thing I could think about was how karma is all a big lie. He is living his best life and I am here, stuck with nightmares and a shitty mental health. I messaged him and confronted him about what he did to me as a child. Though he admitted to it, he said he wasn’t that much older than me when it happened. I was so angry, I sent the screenshots to my extended family’s WhatsApp group. I wrote an epistle about how they needed to create an enabling environment for kids in the family to report abuse. One of my uncles kept talking about how he would kill Tawfiq. I knew it was fake outrage because when my cousin said she was also molested as a child by one of our uncles, everybody kept quiet. I messaged her privately and she told me the whole story. He would tell lies to get her beaten whenever he sensed that she was about to report him, to prove to her that his word would always be taken over hers.

As we were talking, one of my uncles called and accused her of trying to scatter the family. He said she should bring evidence that she was molested 20 years ago. I was so pissed I left the family group chat and I’m glad I never went back because she told me they made her apologize to him. Last month, he was at a family gathering and it was as if nothing had happened. The men in my life failed me but food never did.

Currently, I am tired of living. What’s the point of existing? If I was dead, none of this would have happened to me. These days, I wake up because I have to and get through the day with no desire to do anything else. I’m not suicidal but if I get a chance to die, I’d take it.

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Mariam Sule

May 26, 2021

Her

Mental health awareness, suicide prevention, suicide\
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.

Olufemi Fadahunsi

May 20, 2021

Inside Life

mental health, suicide prevention
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
“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.

Today’s subject is **Mark, a psychologist who is a call center agent at the suicide hotline. He walks us through his battle with faith, the need to help people, and the challenges that come with his job.

MONDAY:

I wake up early no matter what because I don’t sleep for long. Today, I wake up by 6 am because I was up reading till 2:30 am.

The first thing I do when I wake up is to check the morning news on my Chrome browser. I do this for an hour because by 7 am, messages from work start to come in. I am the head of the counselling department and this means that junior counsellors who have issues with their clients come to me for help.

I man the hotline and usually, calls start to come in by this time. To ensure the efficiency of the hotline, I weigh the importance of each call and act appropriately. That is, if a caller just needs someone to talk to, I divert them from the hotline to a nearby counsellor so as to free up the hotline. However, if the caller sounds panicky and desperate, I attend to them because it is an emergency and every second counts.

Whenever a call comes in, I gauge the person’s tone, accent, and diction and tailor myself to the person. This is to prevent miscommunication. It’s important for the caller at the other end to feel that they are talking to someone who understands them. So, depending on who’s calling, I speak either English, Pidgin, or my tiny Yoruba.

Today is a slow day. I eat breakfast by 11 am, I have my bath by noon. I spend the rest of the day browsing through Psychology Today and Medscape.

TUESDAY:

I don’t sleep much at night because the majority of calls come in at night and early in the morning. It helps that I am not a deep sleeper so even if I doze off, I am up once the hotline starts to ring.

Today, an elderly woman called crying about her daughter who was being violent. She was asked to run a couple of tests but she couldn’t afford it and coupled with the lockdown, she had no hope of raising the money. I had to comfort her over the tears and give her hope that it would be fine. That’s all I could do because I couldn’t help financially. After the call, I felt really broken because I just gave her temporary relief that wasn’t going to solve anything. The most annoying part of this job for me is the feeling of helplessness.

Helping people over the phone is tricky. One wrong tone or an out of place statement can either make or break a caller. So, I have to be patronising yet firm. For example, many people call crying and one thing you must never do is tell them to calm down. This is because it invalidates their feelings and makes them feel like a cry baby. So, I tell them it’s okay to cry and re-assure them that I am here for them. I keep repeating that I am there for them so that as they are crying, my voice keeps ringing to them. Eventually, this helps calm them down. Then, I carefully ask for specifics and try to narrow down the problem. Some of these calls last for an hour and I have to be non-judgemental and actively listen.

After doing all of this, it saddens me when I can’t proffer a lasting solution to someone’s problem.

I am in a low mood so I distract myself with Youtube. I watch the Voice which is one of my favourite shows. There’s a rendition of Whitney Houston’s ‘I have nothing’ by one the contestants and that makes it easy to forget my troubles.

WEDNESDAY:

Working this job has limited the number of people I talk to. My colleagues are my only friends because they are the only ones I can rant to about the job. These cases are confidential and that means I can’t discuss them with people outside of work, even if the person is my father. It’s my colleagues I rant to, cry to, and are there. I have over 300 unreplied messages on Whatsapp because I am usually tired to start texting after work.

I don’t have to worry about a significant other because I am not in a relationship. I have never been in a relationship because I don’t have time and there are so many time wasters out there. See, I don’t like stress.

The only downside is that on days like today, where I feel very very lonely after talking to a lot of people on the phone, I have no one to cuddle. I just want to cuddle and not have to say anything or even rant. The loneliness brings on a bout of sadness.

I shrug it off by going to sleep. Sleep always refreshes me and chases the loneliness away.

THURSDAY:

As a hotline handler, I respond to a variety of calls. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks, suicide. Since the lockdown started, the majority of calls I have gotten are panic attack related and they happen in the middle of the night. In the past, I used to get a rough estimate of 50 calls in a month, but these days, I have been getting up to 150 calls. 9 out of 10 people who call are women because men don’t talk about their issues or they drown them with unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Early this morning, a lady called that she was having panic attacks. She was scared for her family because she’s far away from them and even with the lockdown, the number of reported cases keeps increasing. Another person called that the death rate has gone up so much that she can’t step out of the house anymore. She doesn’t know what to do and she’s panicking. Someone else called that they are lonely and the loneliness is affecting their psyche and making it hard to breathe. I had to reassure all of them that it would be fine.

In between all of these, someone woke me up with a call on the hotline telling me that their Facebook account was hacked and they needed my help. I was shocked because I am used to people at the other end of the line crying or struggling to breathe. Being asked to help with a hacked Facebook account in the middle of the night is new to me.

These calls sometimes make me very sad. I have considered handing over the hotline because I keep wondering why people are suffering. My conclusion is that people suffer because of the actions of other people and that makes me sad. Will the world ever be better? It’s hard to believe in God when I have front row seats to human suffering.

These thoughts are making me sad and I can feel an oncoming panic attack. I request for a counsellor to talk to and I call and rant away my feelings.

FRIDAY:

I wish I was on the frontline supporting. It’s not like I don’t enjoy helping through the hotline, I just feel that there’s more I should be doing to help. The guys at the front need all the help they can get. I am fueled by the need to help people. If I wasn’t a psychologist, I would have been a nurse.

I have always been drawn to helping people since I was young. My earliest memory is of secondary school while I was in the band. There was this kid in the orchestra that was doing very poorly so he got picked on a lot. He was always crying, so one day, I went over to comfort him and promised to help him. Then, I was a flutist and he was a violinist. I went out of my way to teach him how to play and practised with him. Even though he was part of the team, he wasn’t allowed to play in concerts because of how bad he was.

I remember one day as we were packing up after a concert and he started to play. The other members were shocked about how much he had improved and even asked how he got so good. I remember him laughing shyly and just looking at me. Since then, I knew I had to keep helping people.

As I am not on the frontline helping people, I am helping as much I can from the hotline. I plan to read the Alex Cross series by James Patterson today.

It’s Friday, please, let me unwind small.

SATURDAY:

The greatest skill you can have as an emergency hotline handler is the ability to separate personal life from work. Especially in this work that is the boundary between life and death. Maybe because I have mastered this, I don’t hesitate to blast rude customer service agents when I am on the other end. I believe that if I can do my own job without being sour, other professionals should be able to do theirs too.

Today, I am conducting interviews for new counsellors to support our efforts. Our recruitment process is very intense and we are not sorry about it. There is the interview phase where only 30% make it, then, a training phase where we cut them down again. Finally, we have the assessment phase which is the interview phase raised to the power of 5.

You can be disqualified for just uttering the wrong statement or not being knowledgeable enough on how to handle or refer cases.

I always tell the new recruits, the conversation is over the phone so that means you have to be very careful. You have to be empathetic, you don’t utter careless statements, you don’t dismiss and you don’t judge. You listen and reassure and try to find common ground. Then finally, you refer them as appropriate.

I enjoy teaching and seeing others gain knowledge, It makes me feel helpful.

The only thing I love more than helping people is eating junk food. After the interviews are over, I look forward to ending the day with a hot wrap of shawarma or meat pie. Or both. It all depends on how I feel at the end of the sessions.

SUNDAY:

Before the pandemic started, I stopped attending church. So, it makes no difference whether there is lockdown or not. I am staying put on my bed.

I have so many questions that religion hasn’t been able to answer satisfactorily. I am sick and tired of people telling me I can’t understand the things of the spirit with the carnal mind. It just feels like the church is a scam because, from my work, I have a lot of questions that need answers. Why are we here? Why are people suffering? How were we created?

As a science student who understands genotype and phenotype, I know all of us can’t have these varied genes if God created only Adam and Eve. That’s such a big question that needs an answer. Okay, so God destroyed the entire race and there’s just Noah and his ark. So, one family gave birth to all the races? The stories just don’t add up for me.

Also, there was so much politics at play with people playing power games in the church. I just got tired of the lies, politics, sabotage and I quit.

I spend the rest of my day thinking about a future where I have better answers and more stability. Marriage is not in my plan or anything. I want to have children but only because I love taking care of people. I will adopt them though.

I want to be a professor, travel the world while living in Nigeria. I also want to start African psychology because a lot of our treatment for mental illness is rooted in Western treatments. Imagine telling someone from Mushin to do Yoga? I want to develop treatment plans specific to Africa and teach them at various universities.

At the end of the day, when my time is up, I want to be remembered as an amazing teacher who loved to help people.

This story was edited for clarity. Some details have been changed to protect the identity of the subject.

Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life Of” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, don’t hesitate to reach out. Reach out to me: hassan@bigcabal.com if you want to be featured on this series.

Hassan Yahaya

May 12, 2020

Hustle

callcenteragent, hustle, suicide prevention, suicide\
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\