In Nigeria, where mental health is often considered a ‘Western’ issue, people are turning to one another for help
In Nigeria, where I’m from, mental health is a topic still spoken about in hushed tones. Even though the country’s Federal Neuro Psychiatric Hospital estimates that 21 million Nigerians have mental health illnesses — excluding the 30 million cases that go unreported — the topic of mental health is still decidedly taboo in Nigeria. When mental health is discussed, it is often still relegated to images of stereotypes — disturbed individuals wandering the streets, soliloquizing nonsense.
For Hauwa Ojeifo, a 25-year-old investment banker turned life coach and mental health advocate, none of her symptoms mimicked these stereotypes. Ojeifo, who lives in the capital city of Lagos, recalls having constant mood swings as a child. “For as long as I can really remember, people would say, it’s just mood swings, that’s just how she is. You start to buy it,” Ojeifo tells Yahoo Lifestyle. “But things begin to happen and your body begins to react in some certain ways and you realize this is beyond how I am. It shows how powerful the brain is. It can be sick and still denying it”
You can click here for the full story
The Women Selling Beauty Secrets From a Region Best Known for Boko Haram
The beauty practices of Nigeria’s north are finding a new home in the country’s big cities, and providing an economic alternative for women from the conflict-torn region.
ABUJA, NIGERIA – Masturah Musa kneads a ball of halawa with her fingers. As it begins to soften, she spreads the sticky caramel across her customer’s leg, then pulls it upward. She repeats the motion all over the client’s body until the woman is left with smooth, hairless skin.
Halawa is a hair-removal wax made from melted sugar. Musa adds honey and lime to her mix the way her grandmother taught her. Traditional beauty rituals like halawa, and dilke – a body scrub made with potatoes, cloves, turmeric and oils – as well as durkhaan, a smoke bath made from sandalwood to tighten skin, have been staples in the lives of women in northern Nigeria for countless years.
Click here for full story
HOW NIGERIA’S MILLENNIAL PRIESTESS IS REVITALIZING SPIRITUALITY
Omitonade Ifawemimo presents as a modern-day sage, with gleaming eyes, a petite frame — and wisdom to spare. She is in fact a 20-something Orisha priestess, with an easy smile and tightly knotted hair. And she has made it her mission to teach and preserve the Orisha and Ifa spiritual practices, which are indigenous to the Yoruba people of Nigeria and adjoining parts of Togo and Benin.
“When you see her in person, she is this tiny presence,” says journalist and culture historian Molara Wood. “She is not this image of an intimidating traditional-religion adherent that a lot of Nigerians have.”
Ifawemimo’s journey started at the age of 5 when she was initiated into the Orisha traditions by her parents, and by 15 she found herself dining with elders and mastering the art and science of divination, chanting and rituals. At 20, through a combination of study, practice and heeding the spiritual call, she earned her place as a priestess.
Click here for full story
‘We are brought up to think suffering this violence is OK’: domestic abuse in Nigeria
Dr Perpetua Mbanefo was just getting ready to drive to her new internship in Lagos when her husband suddenly got upset, seizing her car keys and medical licence. “He said I am becoming too free. Then I asked him for my things back and he got very upset, dragged me and threatened to stab me with a broken bottle.”
Her voice shakes as she talks. The next morning, again as she was preparing for work, he stopped her from leaving the house. “He said I am not going anywhere, [that] he owns me. He started calling me names, like ashewo [slut], and said that I am sleeping with people in my workplace. I didn’t pay attention to that because none of it was true. He has told me that if he decides to lock me up, nobody is going to come and ask because it is a family issue.”
click here for the full story
‘It’s like millions of ants are biting my bones’ – fighting sickle cell disease in Nigeria
Anight out on Toyin Oshinowo’s 21st birthday wasn’t quite the coming of age story she had hoped. Just five minutes after having sex for the first time, she found herself hauled into the back of an ambulance en route to hospital with a sickle cell crisis.
“I look at this guy at the hospital and he looks panicky and after that we never really spoke again. I probably scared him off,” Oshinowo recounts with squeaky giggles, sprawled across the couch in her bedroom.
This was the first of Oshinowo’s many heartbreaks as a person living with sickle cell disease – an inherited red blood cell disorder that causes unusually shaped red blood cells – and can be fatal. These sickle shaped cells can stick to blood vessel walls blocking the flow of oxygen to organs, causing excruciating pain episodes like the one that landed Oshinowo in hospital on her 21st birthday. As well as causing painful episodes, known as crises, that can last up to a week or more, sufferers of sickle cell are also more vulnerable to infections and anaemia
Click here for the full article
Image by Andrew Esiebo
‘The exorcism was over in 15 minutes but nothing changed’ – LGBT life in Nigeria
A pastor spits out prayers as his subject falls to the ground, writhing and contorting after a 30-day fast. Ministers form a circle around the emaciated man and douse him in anointing oil and holy water. When the prayer tsunami ends, a hovering calm ensues. A hologram glides through the man’s atrophied body as he springs to his feet, professing his salvation. So goes the standard script for a deliverance session or exorcism in Nigerian film.
Bree, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, said her first deliverance session in 2004 had none of this Nollywood drama.
Click here to read article
Palenquero: The identity behind a language in Colombia
San Basilio de Palenque, Colombia – A warm smile spreads across Juana’s face as she attempts to sell me a slice of Yucca cake, a sweetened pastry made with cassava, eggs and condensed milk. She and John Jairo, our tour guide, are talking to one another. Words roll off her tongue and her hands flail as I stare at the apron, in the colours of the Colombian flag, tied over her chequered gypsy skirt.
I listen closely to see if I can identify any of the words they use and match them to a language I am familiar with. It is a weird kind of guessing game I play with myself when I am in Lagos, Nigeria, but there I usually attempt to guess people’s ethnicities from the sounds and patterns of the languages they speak.
Click here to read article
In Search Of Champeta | By Wana Udobang | Non-Fiction
I had never heard of Champeta. So when Juliana sent me the reading list for the fellowship, I was intrigued to find that a genre of music had been invented based on some of the music that came out of Nigeria and other parts of Africa. More extraordinary was discovering that this was happening all the way in Colombia, and Nigerians knew nothing about it.
Our connection with the Latin Caribbean has always been our loyal obsession with Telenovelas. Thanks to this, husbands have been known to invest in dual view decoders, and I have almost had my eyebrows waxed off by wondering eyed beauticians.
So as part of my research, I dig out old YouTube videos, but they mostly remind me of francophone pop music I grew up watching and listening to.
Click here to read article
A day in the life of… Lagos’ only rape support centre
The Mirabel Centre is not easy to find. It is on the premises of the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital, beside the mosque, I am told. But when I ask a few people for directions, they seem as baffled as to its whereabouts. Eventually, a young doctor escorts me there. And it is nothing like I imagined.
In my mind, I had conjured an image of a semi-detached patch of serenity; the sort of place that might offer at least the little comfort to be found in bricks and mortar. In reality, Lagos’ only rape centre is a long, dimly lit corridor lined with tiny rooms. With arms outstretched, you can almost touch each side. And the overall sense is of one of the walls closing in.
Click here to read article
Uncool to use English: the rise of ‘dialectical’ rap
Walking through the bus parks and street markets of my youth, between snatches of Fuji music and Celine Dion, it was impossible to miss the voices of Biggie, Tupac and Salt-N-Pepa blaring through the loudspeakers and bleeding into the streets.
Rap and hip-hop culture were everywhere: baggy trousers and baseball hats worn backwards, to the hammer dance and the bounce to your step that – without the right amount of swag and attitude – might be mistaken for a bad limp. I won many party dance competitions with my running man, shutting my mouth still when Salt-N-Pepa would utter the ‘S’ word in Let’s Talk About Sex, and I have fond memories of my camouflage cargo pants, spaghetti straps and Janet Jackson box braids.
Click on here for the full article
A new vaginal ring to prevent HIV
Despite the advances in treatment and biomedical intervention, HIV continues to spread at alarming rates among women in sub- Saharan Africa where who account for nearly 6 out of 10 adults infected. So identifying HIV prevention technology to meet their needs is said to be a critical tool in ending the epidemic.
The new vaginal ring made from silicone designed to deliver the anti-retroviral drug dapivirin to prevent HIV-1 has been recently announced and according to studies provides significant protection against HIV infection in women.
The monthly dapivirin vaginal ring is said to block HIV’s ability to replicate itself inside a healthy cell. These results were drawn from two large phase III clinical trials involving 2,629 African women between the ages of 18-45. The findings showed to reduce infection overall by 31 percent and 27 percent respectively compared to those assigned a placebo. In another study conducted by the Microbicides Trials Network-MTN, researchers found that among women who used the ring consistently, HIV risk was cut by at least 56 percent. In another subgroup of women who used the ring most, findings suggest their HIV risk was reduced by 75 percent.
Click here to read the article
Lonely In Lagos
Poet and journalist Wana Udobang travels round her home city, Lagos, speaking to people who are lonely and isolated in Africa’s most populous city.
She meets a young gay man who opens up about his feelings ofisolation in the light of strict laws on homosexuality, and meets a group of displaced women who are coming together to combat loneliness in poverty.
She also hears moving stories about the impact of depression and grief on loneliness, and visits a cycling club and an elderly community centre helping people to feel less lonely in this fast-changing city.
Click here to listen to the programme
Suffering and Smiling
A portrait of Nigeria, seen through the eyes of a new generation of writers and poets.
In the first of two programmes spoken word poet Wana Udobang introduces us to Lagos: her home city, a megacity, an economicpowerhouse and, according to its resident writers, the craziest, most congested, most entrepreneurial, hustling, joyful, energetic and creative space in Africa. Fela Kuti captured the essence of Lagos in his song Shuffering and Shmiling’.Click here to listen
‘Nigerians find it difficult to buy nudes’
Writer and broadcaster Wana Udobang considers why art that shows nude bodies doesn’t sell well in the Nigerian art market. Click here to listen