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A friend of mine once said to me “I wonder why people even get depressed”. I remember when I blurted out the same insensitive words, oblivious of the fact that I would one day experience it first hand.

A study by the World Bank reveals that 22 percent of Nigerians (mostly family heads) suffer chronic depression. In my opinion, it is way higher than that because I have met some very depressed young people who – I’m guessing – weren’t really accounted for.

People ask: “why would young people be depressed when they’ve got their whole lives ahead of them?” Well, I’ll tell you my story. And I hope it makes a believer out of you.

I’ve realized that real-life experiences help other people heal because it tells them they’re not alone.

My journey with depression began a few years back after graduating from the university and realizing that I still had an outstanding course to pass. That meant I had to pay all my fees like in the past year. Typical of many Nigerian families, everyone washed their hands of it. According to them, I had no business failing a course. So it became my cross to bear. Did I mention that my major wasn’t entirely my idea?? Years after writing the exam, I have struggled to get cleared from school to no avail, this means I’ve had to search for a job without a degree certification. Call it bad luck or whatever, I say I have a folder of sad thoughts lodged somewhere in my head.

I remember trying to work for a relative and not meeting their requirements. I recall them saying, “No one will ever hire you. I recruit people for a living so I know no one will hire you”. I also remember walking home that day and forming the words to this song “If I wrote a song for all the times I’ve lost it, then my albums would say ‘fight… I’m dancing in a black light but I’m not gon’ hit a wall”. My mind was my safe spot; there, I turned the bad thoughts into inspiring songs. It was my therapy.

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#Depression

While the world tries to rewrite its wrongs with women, I wonder who’s striving to help ‘The Man' unlearn what he’s known all through the years.

Here’s a shocker, no one actually takes the time to teach boys who to be in the society. We simply grow up learning independence and ‘masculinity’ from whatever view society tables before us. Trust me, all that we know is hard to unlearn but imperative to. I remember asking to be taught how to cook and my mother replied: “No son of mine will learn how to cook". By the way, that was a really long time ago. Would you blame her though? Her mother probably didn’t teach her brothers. Who knows?

Growing up, all I saw at home and in other Nigerian homes was how much work was put in to ensure women knew their place in the family and also in society. While you might flare up at that, it was normal for most of us and somehow, the girls never complained. They just couldn’t. Well, they didn’t know any better. Back then, anytime a girl stood up to a boy, you’d hear words like “don’t you know he’s a boy". A typical African boy living in the same house with a young African girl would ‘expect’ her to cook, clean, and take care of the menial chores around the house. Well, he would tilt towards the more ‘manly’ duties in the home. In Africa, a woman’s place has been below the man for a really long time. The reality of that is made clear from a very young age. It is sad but true.

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