In this episode of the Indi-Genius Podcast, Fatima reminds us that every girl’s body grows at its own pace and that menstruation should never be a source of shame, confusion, or stigma.
From being told “it’s a big girl’s thing” to being teased for something she didn’t yet understand, Fatima’s story shows why accurate information and supportive conversations at home and in school are essential for girls to feel confident in their bodies.
English Transcript:
Hello and welcome to season two of the Indi-Genius Podcast for Sexual and Reproductive Health, a platform where young voices share real stories about sexual and reproductive health in our communities. I am your host, Queen Ugwoeru, and today we are joined by one of our Indi-Genius champions from Abuja. Please join me in welcoming Fatima Sani.
A young person who is making a difference in her community. Fatima, the mic is yours.
On the morning assembly and with the students trying to meet up at the assembly. But on just like every other Fridays, something happened this particular Friday where we being mentored on menstruation. So as at then I did not really feel there was a need for me to learn. But after then when I got into my SS1, I had friends that I've already started seeing their period. I was like, oh, I wanted to learn then but they were not really making me feel that comfortable. So there was this girl called Glory, she was in my class and I met her a day, me and my friends. So she was crying. When we asked her what was the issue, she was like, she was having cramps. And I was like, what was cramps? Because I had no idea then.
Actually my friends understood but I didn't so when I asked my friends they like it's a big girl's stuff that I'm not supposed to know. I was pained at that moment but looking at the fact that I'm not even their mate, I'm way older than them but they are like it's a big girl's stuff. It made me feel very very very very very bad. So I was in the mind that I will surely start seeing my period.
During the second term, I actually started seeing my period. I saw it in the shop. It came in the shop. A guy told me that I was stinking. I was like, stinking. Why would I be stinking? I was actually small. So he said I should check. When I checked, I was like, yay. Like it has finally come. I was very happy then. I was very, very, very happy. But when I told my mom, she was a little bit disheartened. I am not supposed to start saying anything that I am still small but I was very happy because yes finally I now belong to my friends. When I told them they were like uh-uh you are now a big girl and stuff like that so I was having that impression
So my advice to young minds is just that if you did not see your period on time just calm down there is nothing there. There is no big deal when the time comes, it will come that's what I said thank you
Thank you Fatima for sharing your story. It shows us that when parents talk openly about menstruation, girls grow up feeling prepared, confident and empowered.
Whether you're listening from a city, village or anywhere in the world, your voice matters. And just like our champion, you too can make a difference in advancing sexual and reproductive health for young people. This has been another episode of the Indigenous Podcast brought to you by Strong Enough Girls Empowerment Initiative and made possible by the support from the core group. The future soundtrack is by Advanced Universe.
Do not miss any episode. Subscribe to us on Apple Podcasts, Google, Spotify, Anchor, or wherever you get your podcasts from. And don't forget to turn on the notifications. And if you liked today's episode, please like, rate, review, download, or share. You can also follow us on Instagram at indigenious underscore podcast. Until next time, stay bold and keep using your voice. Bye.
Many girls feel left behind when their bodies don’t develop as fast as their peers’. In this honest and relatable story, Queen Kolawole shares how she longed to “join the circle” of girls who had started menstruating, and what it felt like to finally get her first period. With the right support from her mum and access to menstrual products, her experience was empowering—not shameful.
My name is Queen Kolawole, and this story is about a time when I finally joined “the circle.”
Many girls my age had begun to see their period. You would know because they talked about it in their circle, a top-class circle you most likely would feel left out of if you hadn’t started.
“Can you borrow me your sweater… I’m stained?”
“The pain was this and that.”
I wanted to feel that pain too, so I could feel among and be able to talk about how excruciating the pain was for me also.
I felt like my growth was delayed. My breasts were still as flat as a board. Sometimes I’d stand in front of the mirror and wonder, “Is something wrong with me?”
Everyone else seemed to be growing, and I felt like I was being left behind. It made me feel… small. Like my body was betraying me.
Once in a while, I’d wear my mum’s bra just to see how it would feel like to have my ‘oranges’ fill it up , but nothing. Just loose space. Annoying.
I was in school the day I finally felt my period. It was around closing time, and I just knew something was different that day. I didn’t have any excruciating pain as I’d imagined. It was very mild and could have passed for something else, but because I was so ready to welcome my period, I prayed it was it.
As soon as I got home, I rushed into the toilet. I had to see for myself.
I wasn’t wrong.
Boy, was I excited!
I immediately went to tell my mum. She would know what to do next.
“Mummy! Mummy! I have started my period.”
I felt so proud, like I had finally been inaugurated into the supreme circle.
She taught me how to use a sanitary pad and how to care for myself during menstruation. The rest, they say, is history.
Now, I know everyone’s experience with their period is different, and that’s okay. Some have pain, some don’t. Some love pads, others explore cups.
What matters is that we have choices, and we listen to our bodies..
And I hope everyone feels just as empowered to find what works for them.
Now, looking back, I feel lucky. Lucky that I had access to the right information and the right menstrual products when my period started. Not every girl gets that chance. Some still use pieces of cloth, others hide their periods in shame, and many miss school because they can’t afford pads. It shouldn’t be this way. Every girl deserves to menstruate with dignity, with the right knowledge, support, and products. That’s why I’m sharing this story. Because periods are normal, and no girl should suffer for something so natural.
When young Hope’s period was delayed and intense pain followed, she feared the worst, that her past ovarian cyst had returned and could stop her from ever becoming a mother. Her story highlights the confusion many young people face around fertility, and reminds us that reproductive health issues are real, but treatable, and you are never alone.
English Transcript
My name is Mngunongun Hope Jeremiah.
This is my Story.
It was on a Saturday morning. I woke up, cleaned the house, washed my clothes, cooked for the week, I went to the market and just went about my business for the day.
However, in the middle of the day, I noticed that I was experiencing excruciating pains in my lower abdomen but I brushed it off. Maybe it was just stress from all the chores I have done. But 3 days passed my menstrual cycle and my period didn't come.
I was confused but remembered that, a year prior to this day, I have had the same encounter where my period was delayed and I was given a diagnosis of an ovarian cyst. Upon this realization, I rushed to the bathroom to have my bath. I hurriedly dressed up and went to the road side to get a ride. I got a bikeman and inquired from him to help me locate a good imagining center because I needed to do a scan to ascertain my faith. I was new in Lafia as of then and didn't actually know my way around that much.
The bikeman took me and on our way , he was gisting me about how his wife was once pregnant with twins and he took her to this imagining center for scan and the man was good.
He dropped me at the center and I remember walking into the waiting room, crowded with pregnant women and other patients, waiting for their results. I went in, registered my name and sat there nervously waiting for mine after being attended to.
At this moment, so many thoughts were running through my mind-Look at this multiple women here with their own pregnancies and their other children here. If it is this same ovarian cyst, what will I do?.
In my lost thoughts, the radiologist came out with my results and there came the diagnosis: ovarian cyst.
My heart jumped but I controlled myself and I asked the radiologist, will this affect my fertility?. Then came the whisper;
"You are not menstruating so how will you get pregnant and have children?"
I remember panicking about my fertility status as I rushed home and immediately reached out to a friend who is a Doctor for clarity. I narrated my ordeal to him and he suggested I retake the scan after treatment.
I repeated the scan twice! after my treatment at every menstrual cycle. Yes! just to be sure and was told it has cleared. That 2nd scan, I sent the results to this my friend so he could take a look at it just to clear my burning heart as when it happened earlier, I was completely in a mess, lost in my thoughts while crying in my room before I called him then.
When he saw the scan result I sent, he laughed and said:
"You're just a healthy lady with matured eggs waiting for fertilization. If you want, you can have as many children as possible. Don't let Dr. A. see you on the streets oo if not they'll ask you to donate your eggs to those seeking for eggs for IVF.
To every woman out there listening to my voice now, if you're battling with an ovarian cyst or are going through some reproductive health challenges that may or is affecting your fertility, you're not alone, there are a lot of other women such as yourself out there battling with these things. Be patient with yourself and endeavor to seek the help of doctors as they'll give their best to help you. And remember that, with or without a child, that's not all to life.
“The day my father died, everything changed.”
In this deeply moving episode, Deborah shares how the death of her father, her family’s only educated advocate, shut down her dreams of going to school and exposed her to early forced marriage.
Denied her inheritance, Deborah was made to give up her education for her sibling, and eventually married off as a teenager against her will. Her story is one shared by too many girls across Nigeria and Sub-Saharan Africa. Did you know that 4 out of every 10 girls in Nigeria are married before they turn 18? Listen to her story of resilience and courage and how, as a young mum, she has been able to break the cycle and is now pursuing her university degree
My name is Abundance Dickson. I want to share a story about my menstrual health and hygiene. As a young girl growing up, I never believed something like menstruation could happen to me, even though it’s part of the body’s development process. I was 14 years old. One day, I was eating, unaware that it was time for my period to start. I went to use the toilet, and the next thing I saw was blood in my underwear. I immediately lost my appetite that day. I asked myself, “How will I manage this kind of thing as a young girl who doesn’t have the courage to tell my mother what’s happening?” I kept it to myself, but eventually, I went and told my mum that I had seen blood in my underwear. She just laughed. While she was laughing, I was feeling upset inside. I thought to myself, “What will I do now? I was just trying to enjoy myself.” Then my mum took me to the bathroom, gave me a sanitary pad, and advised me on what to do as a young girl. That part was over, but after 2–3 months, I didn’t see my period again. My mum started asking what was wrong, wondering if I had gone to meet a man. I told her no. Nobody around me had the knowledge that the first period is called menarche. My mum started scolding me, asking what I had done or not done. I insisted that I hadn’t done anything. That phase passed. Then, after six months, I saw my period again. This time, I was in the village staying with my father. It happened on a day we were going to the farm. I saw my period again, but as a young girl with low self-esteem, how do you even begin to tell your dad you’ve started menstruating—even if he’s knowledgeable? I didn’t tell him. I just managed myself. I was using tissue paper and didn’t even care. I would use one for five seconds, and it would soak through, then I’d change it again. I’d wrap the tissue and throw it in the dustbin. That’s what I used for several days. Chai. Later, we traveled back to the city. My dad asked me what was wrong. I told him nothing was wrong, that I just didn’t feel okay. He said if anything was wrong, I should speak up. In my heart, I said, “No way. If I tell you I’m menstruating, what will I gain?” Because back then in school, if a boy found out you were menstruating, they’d call you "the woman with the issue of blood." That stigma stuck with me, so I believed no man—especially not my father—should know I was menstruating. He asked me again what was wrong, and I still said I wouldn’t tell him. When we got to the city, I finally opened up and told him what had happened. He felt so sorry for me. He quickly went out to buy sanitary pads and advised me to always speak up if something like that happens again. I told him I would. Now, as an adult, I’ve told myself that I will encourage others not to keep quiet about things like this. They should try to speak up when they get their period for the first time. Speak up. You might just receive help.
Good day everyone. I'm by name, Abah Mary Adjoma and this is my story. I'm from a Christian home that every of our activities is being informed by our parents. We don't go out without letting our parents know. So on a faithful day, I told my girlfriend that live close to me, let us go and see our friend in our environment that got his own apartment. So we went to the guy's house. Luckily, we saw the guy. In the single room, unpainted, then we begin to gist together.
For a while, the guy went out, left with me and my girlfriend. We continued with the gist. For a short while, my girlfriend's attention was called by the guy we came to see. So she now went out. I was the only one inside the room. Before I could know, a guy walked in. The guy began to toast me. I told him clearly that I'm not interested. The guy did not stop there, he began to touch me, I now told him, I say I am not ready for that. So the guy continued, I stood up. When I stood up, I began to tell myself, I should remember what I wish I want to be. All my childhood. I say I will go to secondary school, from secondary school to university, from university I will get married and then give my virginity to my husband. I said it’s only my husband I will sleep with me first. And if I allow this guy to sleep with me, to miss my dream will not come to pass. And the trauma will be in me that if I remember it, I will never be happy.
So as I stood up, the guy who also stood up, he brought up a knife. He said that either are I allow him to sleep with me or he will stab me. And I tell myself, it's either I die rather than I allow that guy to sleep with me. So we begin to drag more, seriously. At that moment, I was so scared, honestly speaking.
The fear in me was so much but I didn't show it out let the guy not see that I'm so weak Nobody is there to rescue me nobody, it was only me and the guy and it can only be the grace of God that can rescue one like that. So as the guy continued I told the guy I want to ease myself, the guy said it’s a lie.
He now said, fine, if I want to ease myself, I should drop my slippers. I say fine, I will.
So, but still, even when I said I agreed to dro my slip, he did not go and open the door for me. Then I went to the door, I began to hit the door, seriously shouting the name of the guy that I came to visit. To the extent that the people around the environment begin to notice what is happening. The hitting was too much, then the guy came to open the door. As he opened the door, I ran out without dropping my footwear. Then I ran home straight. So when I remember the scenario that took place at that place, at that guy's house that day, I begin to blame myself. Why? Because I went out without my parent's consent. If it happen that, that guy raped me, what will I have tell my parents? I wouldn't be happy with myself forever.
But here I am today, my dream comes true. I went to secondary school, from secondary school to university. From university I got married and I gave the virginity to my husband. And I'm happy with that. Thank you for listening to my story. Thank you all.
Hello and welcome to season two of the Indigenous Podcast for Sexual and Reproductive Health, a platform where young voices share real stories about sexual and reproductive health in our communities. I am your host, Queen Ugwoeru, and today we are joined by one of our Indi-Genius champions from Ogun State. Please join me in welcoming Precious Ogechi. A young person who is making a difference in her community. Precious, the mic is yours.
I am precious Ogechi Onuoha. After covid, that was 2020. I met this young man and he said he wanted to settle down with me. So in the process of dating, I took him. So, but before then, he was caring. He was loving. Then all of a sudden. changed after I told him I took him. Though he was happy, but he started making these statements of even if a woman lives or runs away with a child, if the child is a new child, he would come back looking for the father when he grows. So he keeps making that statement. His character changed. Even he became, stopped providing. No, we always have issues. And then after nine months, I put to bed. After that, he didn't come to visit. In fact, he abandoned us in the hospital because I gave birth to a baby girl. He was disappointed, I guess. I gave birth to a baby girl and he didn't come. Eventually, somebody came to the rescue and I the money because I gave them true CS. After that, my mum came and she has been supportive ever since then. I left his house ever since then. uh My mom has been supportive and things has not been going smooth. But then I refused to give up. He even wanted me to stop schooling. He wanted because while we were dating, I told him my education and my career is one thing I would never joke with. So when I took him, he felt he could influence my decision by telling me to drop, but I refused. I made sure I finished school. and right now though I haven't done my clearance but um I'm still scouting for a job to assist my mom but then things has not been easy so I am trying to use this medium to educate women and I stay in open states a very rural area a place where if you're not careful you lose yourself and I refuse to give up I refuse to succumb to the pressure that comes with failure and that is the reason I am working on myself as well and also trying to reach out to everyone who is in my shoe or who is passing through this situation and who will pass through this situation to always be strong and never give up. am advocating for um a strong woman. I'm advocating for every woman out there who is facing this and I want everyone to learn from my story. Not that I have come out um successful like I wish or I want to but You can always keep trying. Just don't stop trying. Keep trying until there's positivity at the end of the day. Thank you and God bless you. Thank you, precious, for showing us that every girl deserves the chance to learn and grow. Your strength reminds us that education is a right, not a fable, and that it is never late to reclaim your future. Whether you're listening from a city, village or anywhere in the world, your voice matters. And just like our champion, you too can make a difference in advancing sexual and reproductive health for young people.
This has been another episode of the Indigenous Podcast brought to you by Strong Enough Girls Empowerment Initiative and made possible by the support from the core group. The future soundtrack is by Advanced Universe. Do not miss any episode. Subscribe to us on Apple Podcasts, Google, Spotify, Anchor or wherever you get your podcast from. And don't forget to turn on the notifications. And if you liked today's episode, please like, rate, review, download or share. You can also follow us on Instagram at indigenous underscore podcast. Until next time, stay bold. and keep using your voice. Bye.
Suzzy’s teenage years were filled with silence—silence about consent, relationships, and her own body. After surviving abuse and trauma, she finally found healing through a sexual and reproductive health NGO that gave her the knowledge and voice she never had growing up. Now, she’s using her experience to empower other young people with the information she once lacked.English Transcript:
I’m Suzzy Bala, and I’m here to share my deeply personal journey.
A time I seriously struggled with something was when I was a teenager, you see, I grew up in Kaduna State with wonderfully liberal parents and four other siblings; despite their open-mindedness, they didn’t equip me with the essential knowledge that every teenager needs. I went through my formative years without some valuable information and guidance.
When I was 15, I had a male friend, who was 26 and in higher institution, while I was in SS2, I met him, we became friends and he would give me good compliments like, you are smart, you're beautiful, he always buys me gifts and spoils me with money so we came very close. But I didn't have the knowledge about consent and sex and all other thing I needed to know, so one day I went his house for him to help me with my assignment, there was no one at home then I went straight to his room, there was a bed and a couch which
I tried to sit, suddenly his face changed and he started to accuse me of sleeping with people, and I wouldn't allow him touch me. I tried to defend myself, but he took out a pressing iron and threatened me with the rope. He made me lie on the bed, and I struggled, but to no avail; he had his way with me.
Few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not stay, but the psychological and emotional scars remained.
After all this, one would expect that my mom or my elder sister would step in, support, or at least talk about STIs and the implications of teenage pregnancy to prevent recurrence but once again, I was left in silence without this information that I badly needed.
When I was 23, I met a man, and he showed interest in me and I gave him to him, few months later i was pregnant for him, I thought that relationship was going to go the right way, I didn't know the signs of a bad relationship, a toxic relationship or a relationship that is going nowhere, I lacked those knowledge.
That relationship sprang into a cycle of toxicity, marked by physical and psychological abuse.
I felt trapped and lost, yet everyone around me assumed I knew what to do while in fact I needed to be spoken to about that issue, all along as a teenager I needed to be taught about consent and bodily autonomy, and also comprehensive sexuality education, i needed all this but I didn't get it from school, parents or elder sister, I needed to know what a healthy relationship look like but I didn't get it.
At 26 I was privileged to have an encounter with an NGO that focused on sexual and reproductive health and gender-based violence. This was the turning point I desperately needed.
I jumped at the opportunity to volunteer with them. Suddenly, I was exposed to a wealth of information that I had craved as a teenager. I learned about my rights, about safe spaces, contraception, menstrual hygiene, abortion, and more importantly, that I was not alone.
Today, I am proud to say that I am an advocate for sexual and reproductive health and gender-based violence. I now speak to young people about these vital issues, sharing the knowledge I wish I had gained years ago. I graduated with a degree in Economics from ABU and finally managed to leave that toxic relationship behind with my little daughter, who is now 4years old.
This is my story.
When Habiba got her first period at 13, she had no idea what it was or how to manage it. With no guidance, she went to school unprepared and confused. It wasn’t until her second period, when her mother noticed and stepped in, that she was introduced to pads and basic menstrual hygiene. Today, Habiba advocates for early menstrual education so no girl has to feel unprepared or ashamed like she once did.
English Transcript
Hi, my name is Habiba Tanko Suleiman from Sokoto. I would like to share my story on menstrual health and hygiene.
When I started menstruating, I was in JSS 2 (Junior Secondary School 2), and I was 13 years old. I will never forget that night—I saw blood in my underwear. I said to myself, "I’m bleeding," and I knew it wasn’t painful. But at that time, I really didn’t know what menstruation was. Because am not with my mother and I didn’t tell anyone.
I was getting ready to go to school. I didn’t use a pad because I didn’t know what it was or how to use it. So I went to school like that. I didn’t feel comfortable the whole day, but I managed until the day ended.
A month later, I cried. This time, I was with my mother when it happened. She understood immediately. She brought me a pad and showed me how to use it. She also warned me not to let any man touch my hands, saying that if a man touch my hand I could get pregnant. Whenever I remember that moment, I laugh.
After that, I started using pads regularly. While I I finished my school, I also got involved in a program focused on women’s health issues—things like sexual and reproductive health rights, gender-based violence, and menstrual hygiene.
The main message I want to share through my story is this: Every woman who has a daughter should teach her about menstruation—what it is, what to expect every month, how to use a pad, and how to take care of her body. Because When I started mine, I dont know any of that. I didn’t even know what pad was.
That’s the end of my story. Thank you Bye
Many young women experience reproductive health challenges but don’t recognize the signs early. Gracefield never imagined she would be one of them until an unusual discomfort took a toll on her physical and mental well-being. After seeking medical help, she got treated and recovered. Now, she’s encouraging other young girls to listen to their bodies, speak up, and seek care without shame.English Transcript
My name is Gracefield Godwin and this is my story of how I experienced urinary tract infection.
A reproductive tract infection that affected my overall health and well being and how I managed and overcame the situation and challenges attached to this infection.
Growing up as a girl child, I never knew what reproductive tract infection was and how to manage it.
I have heard a lot of stories surrounding how young girls and women experience infections, but it never occurred to me that I would myself experience reproductive tract infection.
I got to hear about reproductive tract infection during my national diploma days in a polytechnic.
And there I saw a lot of girls experience reproductive tract infections, how they go to the hospital, to the clinic, and how they treated it, but it never occurred to me that one day it will be a part of my story.
Until I got married.
And one year after my marriage, I conceived.During my conception or during my pregnancy journey, six months into my pregnancy journey, I started experiencing a lot of itching, discharge and discomfort.It affected my overall well being, it affected my health, it affected my mental health.
I had sleepless nights, I had trouble sleeping, I had trouble, you know, going out because this made me have a lot of discomfort. Sometimes I change my panties twice or three times in a day because of the discharges I experience. Sometimes to urinate, I experience a lot of foaming in my urine.
And this puts me in a tight situation, I became worried, I became concerned because this is something I have never experienced before in my life. I started going on the Internet to search what could be the cause of my itching, what could be the cause of me going to the toilet to urinate and I see foams coming out from my urine, and what I got from the Internet was that I had infections. I was so surprised.
Why would I have infection? I know how neat I am, I know how I manage my panties.I know how I take care of myself as a lady or as a woman, what could be the result of me having a urinary tract infection.
And I decided to go see a gynecologist who, you know, went. I did some tests, ran some tests, and I was told that I had a urinary tract infection.
It was something I never wanted to have because I have seen how a lot of girls and women experience it and what the outcome led to. Some of them had discomfort, some of them had sleepless nights, and I was told such stories while in in Poly and even when I got to university, I saw and I heard a lot of girls tell their stories surrounding infections, and I was never going to experience that, that is what I told myself, but unfortunately, I saw myself in the same shoe.
Experiencing urinary tract infection was something I vowed never to experience, but it happened and it was traumatizing for me.It was really a traumatizing moment for me, having to sleep and itching my private part was something I never wanted to experience, thankfully I went to the gynecologists and drugs were prescribed for me, antibiotics, and I was asked to make sure I changed my pants and also take a lot of water which helped me to fight the infections surrounding my reproductive tract system and it helped me overcome these challenges.
It was something that, that I vowed and said I'm going to do this, I'm going to create an awareness and let other girls and women know that if I could fight this, I myself... you can also fight this.
So it is my desire that a lot of women and girls out there will hear my story and have something to hold onto
Did you know that 1 in 4 girls in Nigeria experience sexual abuse before age 18? Ibukun was one of them, first in a crowded bus, then in a bookstore. Raised in a home where sex talk was taboo, she stayed silent until the day she found her voice and stood up to her abuser. That moment sparked her path to becoming a Sexual and Reproductive Health Rights advocate and educator, determined to help other girls break the silence.
English Transcript
Growing up sexual talk was a taboo in my house. Nobody said why nobody dared to ask.it like a rule written in invisible ink. Don’t ask, don’t speak, don’t know. The only thing I ever learned about my body was in biology class reproductive health, menstruation and fertilization and they all sounds like science experiment and not things that actually happened to me or my friends. So, most of what I knew came from whispers half-truths passed from one confused girl to another. Even then, no one ever spoke with confidence just fear and silence.I remember a day vividly, my mum and I were travelling in a crowded bus, she had me on her lap, trying to balance her bag and other things. Then a man offered to help. He smiled politely and said to my mum, “Let me carry her for you.” My mum, who was tired and relieved, agreed. At first, I was grateful too. But then, I began to feel something. First on my lap. Then, slowly creeping up my body, it was this man caressing me. I looked at him, his face said nothing, no guilt, no shame at all. Just a blank expression, pretending he wasn’t doing anything but my body knew what was happening. I didn’t know what to do, do I speak? do I slap his hand? Do I tell my mum? Instead, I went silent.When the bus stopped, we got down my mum thanked him in the eye, searching for remorse, guilt or maybe shame but all saw was a man who knew how protected he was by my silence. That moment stayed with me, but one day something shifted, during the holidays, I often visited my aunt, she owned a big bookstore where she sold books and stationery, both wholesale and retail. always help her run the store, and other booksellers often came to buy books in bulk to resell. One of them, a young man, regularly placed orders. Most times, the books he requested were inside the storage room, and he would always offer to follow me in to help. At first, it seemed harmless, but each time, he would find an excuse to touch me quickly and then his hand too close to where it shouldn’t be and I never said a word.Until one day I was sent again to get books from the store. He followed. This time, he didn’t waste. He touched my breast briefly but deliberately. He laughed it off like it was a joke. Then he did it again, and something snapped in me. I slapped him hard without even thinking of how much older he is than and I said, If you touch me again, I will shout this whole place down. He looked surprised and scared, and guess what? He backed off and after that day, he never tried it again. That was the moment I found my voice.Today I am a Sexual and Reproductive Health Rights advocate and Health Educator.This is my story.
At 19, Eve found herself unexpectedly pregnant, with no prior sexual or reproductive health education. Expelled from school and publicly shamed, she nearly gave up. But through resilience and support, she chose to keep her baby and restart her education. Now she’s using her story to advocate for better SRHR education for young people.
English Transcript
Hi, my name is Agyhu Eve Onfi, and I'm from Plateau State. This story is about a time when I was pregnant in school. At that time, I was 19 years old and
had just started in the tertiary institution. I grew up in an orphanage, and so I was not exposed to information about sexual and
reproductive health at that time. After I finished my secondary school, I got the opportunity to go
to the university; and a private one, for that matter. One day, a certain female staff in the hostel called me and asked me for my urine sample. I gave
it to her without even thinking twice. Later on, I found out that I was pregnant. Wow. I was physically present in the school at that time, but mentally, emotionally, and psychologically, I was not even in the school. My mind... there were so many things running through my head. I
was like, “Now what is going to happen to me? How will I start this journey?”
I knew I was going to be expelled from school, but then the shame that I was going to bring to
my family and then my village at large. When I was taken to the orphanage, and then I grew up
and finished school, they knew I was going to be a doctor. I went to study Medicine and Surgery. And then they would come and hear that I'm pregnant?
I was just not myself. And then there were wild thoughts that came to me, like, “Let me just abort this baby and get
away with this shame.” But when I thought about abortion, I was like, I knew that sometimes
when you don't get a safe abortion, your womb could be complicated. Like, you could have
complications with your health. You might die, or something terrible could happen to you like
that. But then, keeping my baby was a very difficult choice I had to make at that time. I got expelled from the school eventually. Then I went back to the village. Everybody was just
looking at me and pointing at me, saying whatever they wanted to say. That day I went back home, I cried bitterly; knowing that I went from ten to zero. I really cried. I
knew I had to start from the beginning again. The journey was not easy. But I remember what somebody told me. She said, “Just because you're pregnant and you had
to drop out of school doesn't mean that that's the end of your life, or that you'll never make it
again in life. You can start again after you put to birth, and then move on.” Those words were actually the backbone of me holding on to myself at that time, doing
everything to see that I give birth successfully.
Then I started thinking of what to do. When I got the opportunity to go back to school again,wow! It was like another opportunity. And
with that opportunity, it was the same opportunity that I had to go back and continue my health
profession. Now, when I look back, I notice that things went from good to bad. But at the same time, I have
my beautiful baby, and she's a joy to me. I notice that if I had had the education and information about sexual and reproductive health, and abortion inclusive, I would have made different choices. But all the same, I'm almost done
with my studies in health, and I'm happy. I'm happy that everything went the way it did.
During her NYSC year, Oluwaseun faced a traumatic experience that altered her view on trust, safety, and reproductive health. Accessing emergency contraception after that experience became a turning point in her healing journey. Now, she shares her story to raise awareness about the importance of youth-friendly SRHR information and services.
Growing up in a community where conversations about sex and puberty were taboo, Abubakar had no safe space to ask questions. His knowledge came from rumors and the internet, leaving him confused and vulnerable. That changed when a youth-focused group introduced Comprehensive Sexuality Education (CSE) in his school, and now he shares his knowledge with other boys in his community.
English Transcript
I grew up in a community where topics like sex, puberty, and reproductive health were considered taboo. As a boy, I had no safe space to ask questions about how my body works, sexually transmitted infections, or how to protect myself and others. Any attempt to ask was either ignored or treated as disrespectful.
Most of what I knew about sex and the human body came from rumors, peer discussions, or inappropriate content online. There was no guidance, no structured information just guesswork and misinformation. This lack of proper knowledge left me confused and vulnerable.
Everything changed the day a youth-focused organization visited our school with a program on Comprehensive Sexuality Education (CSE). For the first time, things started to make sense. I learned about:
The physical and emotional changes that come with puberty.
The risks of unprotected sex and how to prevent STIs and unintended pregnancies.
The importance of consent and respecting boundaries.
How to take care of my body and make informed decisions.
The roles and rights of both males and females in sexual and reproductive health.
From that point, my perspective changed. I realized that having access to accurate information is not harmful it is lifesaving. I began sharing what I had learned with my friends and younger boys in my community. We even organized informal discussion groups to talk about hygiene, boundaries, and self-respect.
Final Message:
Comprehensive Sexuality Education is not about encouraging young people to engage in sex. It’s about helping them understand their bodies, protect their health, make wise choices, and respect others. As a young man, I learned that staying silent about these issues can lead to harm, but the right education at the right time can change lives just like it changed mine.
Did you know that it's completely normal for some girls to start puberty later than others?
In this episode, Adedoja shares how not getting her period “on time” made her feel excluded, ashamed, and desperate to fit in, even if it meant pretending. Her story is a reminder that everybody grows on their timeline, and that’s perfectly okay.Transcript:
My name is Adedoja Haleeyat Adetayo, and this is a story about a time when I felt stuck in a body that refused to grow, and how that changed how I saw myself.
It started back in junior secondary school when sexual education was added to our curriculum. I thought it would help me understand my body better, but instead, it made me feel like something was wrong with me.
One day, the teacher came into class and asked a question: “If you’ve started your period, raise your hand.”
Some hands went up. Mine didn’t.
Then she divided us — those who had started were taken aside for the full sexual health class, while the rest of us were left behind. Just like that, we were labeled: developed vs. undeveloped, ready vs. not-yet. That moment hit me hard. It wasn’t just exclusion, it was public confirmation that I wasn’t growing "fast enough."
That was when everything changed.
I began pretending.
I wore pads to school even though I hadn’t started menstruating. I faked cramps. I walked carefully like someone who was bleeding, just to feel like I belonged. I even started drinking sugary things like malt and soft drinks because someone said it would bring my period faster. I drank them obsessively, hoping each sip would be the one that worked.
Still, nothing happened.
No breasts.
No blood.
No change.
Then came the myths, like how having sex would make your breasts grow. I didn’t act on it, but I remember how real and tempting that pressure felt. The desperation was intense, not just to grow, but to stop being left out. To stop feeling like the “not-yet girl.”
I wish someone had pulled me aside and said, “You are not behind. Your body is not late. You are just on your own timeline.”
One random day, during a football match at school, I got hit in the stomach. It hurt like crazy. I went home in pain, and that evening, I saw the blood. After all that waiting, pretending, and hoping, it finally came.
And now? The irony is almost funny.
I have breasts now. I’m busty.
Everything I once prayed for came — but in its own time.
Looking back, I realize how vulnerable I was. If someone had offered me sex in that fragile moment, just to “fix” my body, I might have believed them. That’s how powerful shame, pressure, and misinformation can be.
Growing up in a conservative community, Samson learned early that asking questions about his body or sex could lead to punishment not answers. But silence didn’t prevent reality: teenage pregnancies, abuse, and shame. A classmate’s pregnancy by a school staff member became his turning point. That moment shaped his journey into healthcare, where he now educates young people about their rights and choices.
When Joan Hassan got her first period, she thought she was dying or being punished for walking with a boy. Growing up with no knowledge of menstruation, it took the compassion of a friend to change her fear into purpose. Today, she's a nurse and SRHR advocate ensuring no girl feels the way she once did.
Did you know? Nearly 1 in 4 girls in Nigeria miss school due to lack of menstrual knowledge and supplies (UNICEF).
Junaid and his wife, both blind, faced discrimination when they sought family planning services at a public hospital in Lagos. This episode highlights the urgent need for inclusive sexual and reproductive health services and disability-friendly care for young people in Nigeria.
In this emotional episode, Oluwadunsin shares her harrowing experience of sexual assault and the confusion many young women face around the meaning of consent. With over 1 in 3 women globally experiencing sexual violence in their lifetime, her story is a powerful reminder that no always means NO, and consent must be clear, conscious, and respected.
The realization that girls in her community do not have the knowledge of reproductive health, including basic things such as menstrual hygiene, was the push that Annabel needed to become an advocate in her community of Madalla in Niger State, Nigeria. Ever since she discovered this need, Annabel has educated her community members on their sexual and reproductive health. Let's join Annabel in her community as she shares her story.
La prise de conscience du fait que les filles de sa communauté n'ont pas de connaissances en matière de santé génésique, y compris des éléments de base comme l'hygiène menstruelle, a été le coup de pouce dont Annabel avait besoin pour devenir une militante dans sa communauté de Madalla, dans l'État du Niger, au Nigeria. Depuis qu'elle a découvert ce besoin, Annabel a éduqué les membres de sa communauté sur leur santé sexuelle et reproductive. Rejoignons Annabel dans sa communauté pour qu'elle partage son histoire.
Traduit avec www.DeepL.com/Translator (version gratuite)