In this article, we spoke to 10 Nigerian women living with the condition about what the name change means to them and whether they believe it will lead to greater awareness, diagnosis, and care

1. ā€œI Would Be More Excited If There Were More Awarenessā€ ā€” Mercy*, 30 

Iā€™m not on social media like that, so I found out about the name change while I was on a call with my friend, who is a doctor. When she told me about it, I honestly didnā€™t feel any type of way. Yes, Iā€™m glad for the name change, but I think I would be more excited if there were more awareness of the condition. 

I got properly diagnosed five years ago, and I have had to deal with constantly educating people on what it meant. I also had to endure being constantly invalidated by the health professionals because they couldnā€™t simply wrap their minds around it, even though it is their job to do so. 

The name change is great. I have friends with PMOS who donā€™t have cysts, so Iā€™m genuinely happy for them, but I would like to see more awareness being shed on the condition. 

2. ā€œIā€™m Excited About it Because I Donā€™t Have Cystsā€ ā€” Etim*, 28

I work in media, so I actually found out about the name change when my managing editor sent me a link to an article talking about it. I canā€™t lie, Iā€™m excited about it because I donā€™t have cysts. Most of my symptoms stem from the hormonal and metabolic effects of the condition, and I appreciate the fact that this name change might show that PMOS isnā€™t just about fertility, like most male doctors in this country keep saying, so they can trivialise your struggles. 

It affects not just the reproductive systems but also other parts of the body. In my case, that included insulin resistance and excess testosterone levels, and I hope that all the doctors who tried to gaslight me into thinking otherwise are having an inner reflection moment, but thatā€™s if theyā€™re even aware of the name change. We live in Nigeria, after all. 

3. ā€œI Am Glad the Conversation Will Now Shift From Just Fertility ā€ ā€” Banke*, 35

I found out about the name change while I was doomscrolling on Instagram one day, and to be honest, Iā€™m just blank about it. I donā€™t know if thatā€™s because I had to go through different medical professionals before I finally found a gyno that actually listens to me, or if itā€™s because the whole fertility conversation surrounding the condition has never moved me, because of my decision to never bring a child into this world. 

However, I am glad that the conversation will now shift from just fertility and reproduction, and we can start discussing other areas of our health that PMOS has affected. 

4. ā€œI Almost Gave Up on Not Getting Diagnosedā€ ā€” Mary*, 25 

I was on Twitter when I read about the name change. At first, I thought they were lying, but I googled and found out it was real. I remember calling my friend to talk about it, and I burst into tears. The number of times Iā€™ve been misdiagnosed by doctors, simply because I didnā€™t have cysts, almost made me give up on getting diagnosed. 

This condition has severely affected my physical and mental health, and yet, it was when I was visiting my family in an entirely different country that I was able to get a diagnosis from a kind gyno who made me feel validated in a way no one back home had made me feel. I canā€™t fully describe how happy I am with the name change, because it means that people with this condition can now get properly diagnosed instead of being carelessly dismissed, like I was.

5. ā€œBecause I Didnā€™t Have Cysts, Hardly Anyone Paid Attentionā€ ā€” Kiki*, 28

I got the information about the name change on a group chat with other women who also have PMOS, and I remember thinking ā€˜f¾±²Ō²¹±ō±ō²āā€™. When I got diagnosed two years ago, it was only because I finally had cysts. I should have been diagnosed years before that, because I was already having symptoms that were directly linked to PMOS, but because I didnā€™t have cysts, hardly anyone paid attention to me. 

They told me it wasnā€™t a big issue, and Iā€™m sure several health professionals probably still detest me because of how I made them uncomfortable after they made the entire conversation about cysts. The name change really made me emotional, because what if I never got cysts? Everyone would have been comfortable misdiagnosing me because of that? 

6. ā€œFor Years, it Felt Like I Was Crazyā€ ā€” Anita*, 38

No one is happier than I am over this name change. I found out about it when my gyno texted me because she was happy that more research would be done on the condition. I still canā€™t stop thinking about the relief that washed over me when I read more about the name change, because for years, it felt like I was crazy. 

Iā€™ve never had polycystic ovaries, but my insulin resistance is severe in a way that is quite concerning. So, before I met my current gyno, health professionals loved to pass me around because they didnā€™t really know what to do with me, since I didnā€™t have the textbook symptoms that they were used to. This is why Iā€™m so giddy about the name change: more research will be done, and people can know more and be more aware. 

7. ā€œI Wish Our Doctors Were Better Informedā€ ā€” Daniella*, 24

Honestly, I am happy the name change is getting the right attention,even though my doctor was not aware of the news, and I had to be the one to inform her about something she should know. 

I think thatā€™s why Iā€™m 50-50 about it all, because yes, more attention is given to the other symptoms of the condition, but when will funding start going into treatments and research? Research on the female body barely exists, and it is getting tiring. I wish our bodies were given more attention, and I wish our doctors were better informed. I shouldnā€™t have to be the one telling my doctor. She should know. 

8. ā€œThey Would Only Look Into My Matter if I Lost Weightā€ ā€” Binta*, 42

I got the news about the name change from my husband, who is aware of my diagnosis, and really, I canā€™t express how happy I am about this. Even though Iā€™d been struggling with my symptoms since I was a young girl, I didnā€™t get my official diagnosis until my early 30s and even then, I was still invalidated by health professionals. 

Everyone kept blaming my weight, and kept telling me they would only look into my matter when I finally lost the weight. I thank God for my husband, who found a good endocrinologist who actually listened to me and let me know all about insulin resistance and how it is connected to the condition. She made me feel seen, and it is such a blessing that the name change acknowledges that itā€™s not only about fertility or reproduction. PMOS symptoms are more than that, and Iā€™m just really happy the world is finally waking up. 

9. ā€œThereā€™s a Possibility Women with PMOS Might Still Get Invalidatedā€ ā€” Basiroh*, 25

I only found out the name about two weeks ago because Iā€™ve been on a social media detox. When I saw the announcement from my friend, who sent it to me because she is aware of my condition, I was really glad, but at the same time, it made me wonder whether Nigerian healthcare professionals will be up to date on it. 

It took time for some of them to get used to the previous name and understand it. Who is to say that theyā€™re not going to have a hard time wrapping their heads around this one? Most of them are not even being paid well for the work theyā€™re doing, so there is a huge possibility that women whose symptoms align with PMOS might still get invalidated. Iā€™m hoping that I might be wrong, and women whose symptoms are broader get the treatment they deserve. 

10. ā€œFor Years, I Lived My Life Without a Diagnosisā€ ā€” Rachel*, 23

The day I saw the news on Instagram, I was in class, and I got sent out because of my excited yell. For years, I kept telling doctors that something was wrong with my body. I was convinced that I had PCOS, and because I didnā€™t have cysts, they told me I was thinking too much and that I shouldnā€™t worry. So for years, I lived my life without a diagnosis. I was even starting to think that maybe they were right, and I was reading too much into it, but then the news came out, and it turns out that I was very much right. The doctors just didnā€™t care much. 

It was this news that finally convinced me to reach out to a gyno a friend recommended. Iā€™ve not met her because Iā€™m currently at school in another state, but sheā€™s aware of the name change, and she believes that I can get diagnosed. I am really just happy that I might get my diagnosis after being gaslit for a long time. 

°Õ³ó±šĢżĀ is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.Ā Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.Ā .

Everyone knows about morning sickness and food cravings, but pregnancy can come with plenty of unexpected side effects that no one warns you about. From losing teeth to blurry vision and pregnancy brain, the Nigerian women in this article share the surprising symptoms they experienced while pregnant. 

1. ā€œI Began to Have Awful Bad Breathā€ ā€” Marie*, 35Ā 

It pisses me off when I see women talk about pregnancy being an easy and stress-free experience, because itā€™s absolutely not. My pregnancy was the worst thing to happen to me, and I know everyone might say itā€™s an exaggeration, but itā€™s not. I had bad problems with my teeth while I was pregnant with my daughter. No one told me that one day, you could sleep with two of your molars intact and then wake up without them because they decided to fall out without your permission. And when I thought that was it, because surely, my baby wonā€™t want me to suffer more? My wisdom tooth, which I never thought I had, suddenly made an appearance. I even began to have awful, bad breath, even though I was taking my dental hygiene seriously.  Iā€™m so glad I had my husband with me; otherwise, I would have really done something harmful to myself. I donā€™t see myself having a child again because of the side effects I faced with my daughter. God forbid I do that to myself again. 

2. ā€œMy Brain Had a Hard Time Adding 2 Plus 2ā€ ā€” Amina*, 28Ā 

I thought the term ā€˜Pregnancy Brainā€™ was a myth until I got pregnant, and my brain suddenly had a hard time adding two plus two. Before my pregnancy, I was known for being someone who thinks quickly on her feet and is ready to solve any problem presented to her. No one ever had any hard time explaining things to me because I always understood immediately. 

So, imagine my surprise when I got pregnant, and my words barely started making sense. Stringing words together became a chore, and I had to start taking time before saying anything because there were countless times I said things that didnā€™t make sense. It was so embarrassing because I kept having people correct me at least 3 times during conversations. 

I was so scared that I would get sacked at my place of work, but thankfully, my boss is a woman who commiserated with me over it because sheā€™d also been a victim of pregnancy brain. It was because of her that I tried not to feel so ashamed about what was happening to me. 

3. ā€œHaving Random Bald Patches Really Made Me Angryā€ ā€” Banke*, 25

A major reason why I went from someone who wanted three kids to someone satisfied with just one is that I experienced severe hair loss while I was pregnant with my son. When I was a child, my mum always joked that I was the reason she didnā€™t have hair anymore, and I didn’t fully understand it until my hair started falling out. At first, I was even panicking because I thought that maybe I had a serious health condition, only for me to find out, after digging through every corner of the internet, that it was just the baby that was the cause. 

Iā€™m quite a vain person, so going from a full natural hair that I spent years treating with all oils and leave-in conditioners under the sun to having weird bald patches really made me angry. I love being a mother, but I donā€™t think I can do pregnancy again. I just donā€™t see it happening in my future again. 

4. ā€œI Got Diagnosed with Gestational Diabetesā€ ā€” Shukura*, 45Ā 

I have three children, and I wonā€™t advise anyone to get pregnant unless they really know the risks and still want to do it. With my first and second child, I had low calcium, and it felt like I was going to die because of the countless side effects, like extreme tiredness, that came with it. When I became pregnant with my third child, I really thought it would be the usual low calcium, but then I got diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and then I had to start watching what I ate, and how I ate, and everything became so stressful for me. I was so surprised that I actually gave birth to my third child because the stress that came from having diabetes really had me convinced that I was going to miscarry. 

5. ā€œMy Legs Have Suddenly Become Restless in an Annoying Wayā€ ā€” Lolu*, 24

I am currently 32 weeks pregnant, and while I have been having it easier than some of my friends, my legs have suddenly become restless in a completely annoying way. I could want to sleep at night, and my legs would get this itchy feeling because they want to walk around the house. When I try to ignore it so I can get some actual sleep, I just keep obsessing over it. Before you know it, Iā€™m walking around the house, and in the end, I barely get any sleep. It’s quite frustrating because I didnā€™t know about this before. I knew I would have to make some sacrifices when I decided to have a child, but walking around the house in the middle of the night because my legs are suddenly restless is not much fun. 

6. ā€œMy Nose Grew so Much, I Couldnā€™t Recognise Myselfā€ ā€” Fiyin*, 32Ā 

I am a light-skinned woman, and after I got pregnant, my skin darkened. I didnā€™t know that was a thing. I was completely caught off guard, and I couldnā€™t comprehend why my body would turn on me like that. Coupled with my dark skin, my nose also grew massively, so people always had a hard time recognising me. Even I couldnā€™t recognise myself in the mirror. I hated myself completely, and even though everyone kept assuring me that my body would go back to normal after having my child, I was still so depressed. Throughout my pregnancy, I had at most four pictures of my face. I really hated the woman Iā€™d turned into because of pregnancy. 

7. ā€œI Grew Hair in Places That I Had Never Grown Hair Beforeā€ ā€” Atinuke*, 31Ā 

I was aware that excess hair growth is something that happens to women during pregnancy, but I was still so unprepared when it happened to me. I began to grow hair in places that I had never grown hair before. I grew hair on my face, my belly, and even my nipples, of all places. I didnā€™t know that we could actually grow hair on nipples until that happened to me, and I had to thoroughly educate myself, and I felt so validated when I read other women’s experiences with excess hair growth. 

8. ā€œI Had a Hard Time Reading Because of My Eyesā€ ā€” Dora*, 45

During my pregnancy, I began to have problems with my eyesight. Before my pregnancy, I didnā€™t know what an opticianā€™s clinic looked like. Then I got pregnant with my second child, and suddenly, I had a hard time reading. I would have to squint a lot to see anything. I was so scared because I didnā€™t know what was happening. 

Then I met my doctor, and she was the one who let me know that bad eyesight is common in pregnant women. She assured me that it would go away after I gave birth, and it was just one of the many side effects that came with being pregnant. Throughout my pregnancy, I had to use prescription glasses, and even a month post-partum. I no longer have bad eyesight, but that was a scary time.

9.Ā ā€œMy Hands Became Completely Uselessā€ ā€” Kemi*, 33Ā 

I didnā€™t know what carpal tunnel syndrome was until I got pregnant. I didnā€™t realise how extremely important my hands were until carpal tunnel syndrome happened to me. As if the swelling and the pain that keep me up at night were not enough, my hands became completely useless. I could barely use it to carry anything with weight. Basic things I used to do with my hands, like holding my phone, became so difficult. I had to get my hands braced, and honestly, Iā€™m so glad this went away after I had my child. If it became a permanent side effect, I donā€™t know how I would have handled it. 

10. ā€œI Went From a Size 39 to 42ā€ ā€” Quineth*, 30Ā 

During my pregnancy, my feet basically expanded, and I went from size 39 to 42, and although I was aware that it was a possible side effect, I was still quite annoyed by it. I even thought that once I gave birth to my daughter, my feet would go back to their normal size, but a year after my child, and I am still a size 42, and finding the right pair of shoes in my current size has not been very smooth sailing. 

Motherhood can change more than a womanā€™s life. For many women, it also changes how they view their partners. While some discovered new reasons to love and appreciate their husbands better, others were forced to confront disappointing realities. 

In this article, eight Nigerian women share how motherhood transformed their view of their husbands.

1. ā€œHe was basically the calm to my stormā€ ā€” Aisha*, 30Ā 

Having my son with my husband has made me appreciate him more. Iā€™ve heard a lot of horror stories about husbands being useless and deadbeat while their postpartum wife takes care of the baby all by herself, but it was never like that with my husband. 

He took responsibility for our baby the moment we got back from the hospital. He didnā€™t make me feel alone amid the chaos that came with being a new parent. He carried his weight effectively. No one had to teach him how to bathe our son, change his diapers or feed him from the bottle. He learned by himself, and he was so patient with me, especially when I was dealing with postpartum rage. I would shout and throw things at him, and he would do his best to calm me down without yelling. He even found me a therapist and made sure I didnā€™t miss my appointments. He was basically the calm to my storm. 

He didnā€™t have a present father, but he learned how to be a good father to our child, and that just made me love him more. 

2. ā€œI couldnā€™t open up to him about my postpartum depressionā€ ā€” Derin*, 28Ā 

After we had our daughter, I immediately got on birth control pills. I realised that I would be doing myself a disservice if I had a second child with my husband. Throughout the time I nursed our daughter, he didnā€™t lift a single finger, and that was so funny to me because he was the one who kept begging me to have a child a year into our marriage, even though I wanted us to wait for a long time. He had been so excited when I told him I was pregnant, and Iā€™d foolishly thought that he would be a good father, but I was wrong. 

He barely paid attention to the baby or me. He didnā€™t know when the baby woke up, and he couldnā€™t tell if she was crying from hunger or because her diaper was soiled. When the baby starts crying in the middle of the night, he would literally wake me up and ask me to figure it out. I couldnā€™t even open up to him about my postpartum depression because I was so sure he was going to trivialise my struggles. He knows nothing about my early motherhood journey or anything about his daughter. 

Being a mother has shown me how disappointing my husband can be, and thatā€™s exactly why I wonā€™t be having any children for him again. He keeps asking me if we can try for a second child, and I keep telling him okay while knowing fully well that if my pills fail me, I wonā€™t hesitate to get an abortion. 

3. ā€œThroughout my pregnancy, he treated me like a princessā€ ā€” Nini*, 40Ā 

Before we had our twins, my husband was someone who smoked and drank at least three times a week, but from the moment I told him I was expecting, he discarded both habits. It was not an easy feat because he had been doing that for years, and I never minded because he wasnā€™t necessarily an addict in my eyes, but he wanted to be a good father with a clear mind. He didnā€™t have a good father, but he had a great mother who he learned so much from and it was from her that he learned how important it was for a parent to be present in their childā€™s life. 

Throughout my pregnancy, he treated me like I was a princess, and he always made sure I had access to all my cravings, including the ones that didnā€™t make sense. When we had our babies, he made sure he was there for every single moment with me. Having twins was already hard, so he made sure that the rest of my life was not harder. He took the bulk of the parenting, got a housemaid to help around the house, and he made sure I was not overwhelmed in any way. Because of him, I slept well, ate well, and didnā€™t feel guilty anytime I went for a walk without the babies. I never felt restless from being away from them because I knew they were in safe hands. Having children with my husband has brought us closer together than ever. I am glad he is my husband.Ā 

4. ā€œHe thought that just spending money made a fatherā€ ā€” Mary*, 50Ā 

Motherhood was definitely one of the major reasons why my husband and I divorced after twenty years of marriage. I grew up watching my dad be present in our lives, and it made me think all men were like that. Then I had all my children with my husband and realised how wrong I was. 

Right from the start, when we had our first child, I took on 70% of the parenting. For some reason, he thought that just spending money made a father. How they ate, who their friends were, what was going on with them at school, their injuries, none of them mattered to him. He was not present in their lives, and as time went on, all my children went from desperately seeking attention from their father to not wanting to be in the same room with him. Seeing the way some of my friendsā€™ husbands actively pay attention to their childrenā€™s lives without being told what to do was what made me realise that I couldnā€™t keep being with a man who barely paid attention to my children and me. We are divorced now, and the children and I have never been happier than ever.Ā 

°Õ³ó±šĢżĀ is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.Ā Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.Ā .

5. ā€œIā€™ve never enjoyed motherhood fully because of himā€ ā€” Beatrice*, 35Ā 

Having a child made me realise how inconsiderate my husband was. Before I stepped into motherhood, one could say I was blinded by the love I felt for him. It made me ignore red flags like him not helping out in the kitchen or still wanting me to cook him dinner after a long day at work. A lot of people told me that children change a man, and I thought that having his kid would make him more mature, but alas. 

Unlike me, he refused to create space for our daughter. He continued to act like he was a bachelor while I struggled with the parenting. He would go out, act like he didnā€™t have a family waiting for him, and when he got back, he would expect me to microwave his food, despite knowing I had spent the entire day fighting for my life at work and wrangling our daughter into order after getting home. Iā€™ve never enjoyed motherhood fully because of him, and this has only made me resent him more. Itā€™s this reason why Iā€™ve decided not to have kids with him anymore. Iā€™m not that pressed to have more children to prove a point or anything. Iā€™m okay with my daughter. 

6. ā€œIā€™ve never felt like I was married to a man-childā€ ā€” Rachel*, 28Ā 

Having a child didnā€™t change how I saw my husband. He has always shown kindness and patience to me, and I knew, right down to my bones, that he would express that same kindness and patience to any child I birthed. When we had our first child, he made sure to use his paternity leave fully so he could be there for me anytime I needed him. We already had a housemaid, but he got two more because he didnā€™t want me to feel any discomfort. He knew I wasn’t a big fan of family coming over and stressing out the kid and me, and he made sure to set boundaries with everyone of them. 

When I had a health crisis just a few days before him going back to work, he begged for an extra month just so he could be with me. Our child is turning two soon, and he has made an effort to be constantly present for her. For once, Iā€™ve never felt like I was married to a man-child who made excuses to not take care of his children. With him, itā€™s like a beautiful partnership, and since giving birth to our baby girl, Iā€™ve only felt closer to him. I canā€™t wait to have more children for him. 

7. ā€œI regret the fact that heā€™s their fatherā€ ā€” Ella*, 50Ā 

Having children ruined the balance between my husband and me. They opened my eyes and made me see that I was married to someone who did not show me consideration. I have three kids for him, and not once in his life did he ever take a break from work to spend time with them. He didnā€™t take his paternity leave because he didnā€™t think there was anything he could do to help me. He expected me to be at his beck and call during my postpartum, and I would never forget the time he yelled at me to get out of our bedroom when our first child, who was two months old at the time, started crying her lungs out. It was definitely stupid of me to see the way he treated me when I had our first child and still believed that our other children might ā€œchangeā€ or ā€œturnā€ him into a better father. I do not regret my kids, but I regret the fact that heā€™s their father. 

8. ā€œHe is careful in how he handles our sonā€ ā€” Naomi*, 26Ā 

Motherhood made me appreciate my husband more. He grew up an orphan and had to deal with his emotionally and physically abusive uncle throughout his teenage years, and he was worried about the possibility of turning out like him that he took himself to therapy the moment I announced my pregnancy. 

From the pregnancy through my child’s birth, he did his best to be present. He didnā€™t make raising our child seem like a burden, like Iā€™ve seen most husbands do. He is careful in how he handles our son, and heā€™s constantly learning new ways to care for him. Iā€™m even more in love with him than I was when we got married. I canā€™t wait for my son to grow up so I can better understand their dynamics. I know that heā€™s going to be a good father figure to our son, and I am excited to experience that. 

Next Read: What She Said: My Dad Spent My Mumā€™s Pension. Now Iā€™m Stranded in Canada

On X, a man recently shared why he cut his talking stage off.

And Nigerians had a lot to say about it, sparking a full-on conversation from different sides of X.

It all started with this original tweet, hinting at a deeper reason women cohabit with their partners.

Staying over at someone else’s house comes with certain expectations

But the idea that occupying someone’s space for a day could require anything from you simply never registered with some people before.

Not everyone agreed with that

A third group came with a different take on the same opinion

Then, the inescapable gendered angle

A strong case can be made here for being considerate in other people’s spaces. But guests can and should expect guest treatment when they’ve been invited.

The question here is: Does the original poster have the same expectations of shopping, cooking, and cleaning from his male friends or family members who stay over? Or was this a put-off for him because the woman in question was a “talking stage,” and thus, auditioning for the position of “wife”?

We may never know. But the pattern remains that daughters are often still assigned chores that sons are excused from, and that pattern continues to follow women everywhere they go, including into spaces that are not even theirs.

A last group shared some clarity on this angle

It goes both ways

Across cultures, a host is expected to err on the side of generosity. And guests are expected to decline offers once or twice before even accepting, just to make sure the host genuinely wants to host you.

That’s the often-overlooked reciprocal principle. A good guest does not exploit hospitality. The healthiest balance is when the host takes responsibility for comfort, while the guest takes responsibility for consideration.

So if a host feels used or imposed upon, either their expectations were not clearly communicated, the guest was truly inconsiderate, or both.

Letā€™s picture this together. It is 1:30 PM on a Wednesday. You are frantically responding to a client on WhatsApp, your content draft is open in another tab, a Google Meet invite for a 2 PM meeting just appeared in your email, and your phone is at 9%. The panic starts to set in because, of course, it does. You proceed to do the mental math of which app to close, which task to abandon temporarily, and whose power bank you can beg for, because NEPA has still refused to bring light and your own power bank is nowhere to be found. You have been here before. You will be here again. Or maybe not.

We are going to hold your hands and tell you the thing everyone is thinking but hasnā€™t said out loud yet: the hustle is not the problem. The schedule, as overwhelming as it can get, is not the problem either. The problem is that your phone was not built for the life you are actually living. Most devices clock out by noon because they were designed for someone with one job, one mail inbox, and the luxury of stable light and a power bank nearby. Not for a young Nigerian who is a freelancer before 9 AM, a content creator by noon, and an entrepreneur by the time the sun starts going down.

Letā€™s picture what another Wednesday looks like for you. You wake up and respond to messages from at least three different clients before you even check if your legs are still working. You move to a Slack thread about a brand deal, then switch to editing a caption for a post that should have gone up yesterday. By 11 AM, you are on a call, by 1 PM, you are setting up for a short video shoot, and by 5 PM, you are back on your laptop, showing a deck to a new client who is proving to be difficult, and somehow also trying to order your first meal of the day. This might seem like a chaotic life, but itā€™s really not. You are a Nigerian youth in our holy year of 2026, trying to do what needs to be done in order to make ends meet. The question is just whether your phone can keep up with all of that.

Lucky for you and us all, the Infinix NOTE 60 Pro was built with this exact Wednesday in mind. The 6500mAh battery does not start showing signs of exhaustion at 40% or leave you scrambling for a power bank by noon. This might sound unbelievable, but it is actually built to go the distance, and on the rare days it does need a top-up, the 90W charging gets you back in the game in the time it takes to finish a Shawarma. The Snapdragon 7s Gen 4 processor means every app you have open is actually working, not loading, not glitching, not making the phone feel like it is trying to boil an egg. You donā€™t have to put it in a fridge to cool it down.Ā 

There is also the content side of things to consider, because if you are building anything in this economy, you are creating content whether you planned to or not. The Night Master Camera means your shoots don’t have to wait for perfect lighting that Lagos might never deliver on the day you want it. The Rear Matrix Display gives you a live, accurate view of your shot, so what you see is exactly what you get, every time. Your content starts looking like it came with a production budget when really it is just your phone. Isnā€™t that great? 

The AI features are the part that changes how you work. Not in an obvious way, not at all, but in a ā€œI finished that task earlier than I usually doā€ kind of way. It helps to take care of the repetitive and the things that eat up most of your day without producing anything visible, so you can focus on the work that actually makes a great impact.

Running three hustles at once is not a personality trait in this economy. It is just Wednesday. At the very least, your phone can match your energy.

On June 2nd, 2026, Infinix brought one of its most anticipated product launches to 3cHub on Awolowo Way, Ikeja, gathering interested guests to experience the latest entry in its HOT series, the Infinix HOT 70.

Infinix set up a functioning fridge and a standby electric cooker on-site, using both to demonstrate the Thermo Orange variantā€™s temperature-responsive rear panel in real time. When cooled, the device turns to a darker Quiet Orange shade. If exposed to heat, it becomes a brighter Playful Orange tone. The setup was so eye-catching that it made the technology practically impossible to ignore.

The stall at 3cHub was brimming with other HOT 70 variants, including the Quiet Violet and Green Texture options, but the fridge kept pulling people back, of course. It turned a product specification into a live experience, which was clearly the point of it all.

Among the guests were celebrities including Elozonam, Neo Akpofure, and Stan Nze, who got hands-on time with the device. Conversations on the floor mostly centred on reactions to the colour-shift feature and the phoneā€™s DIY personalisation capabilities.

With the HOT 70, Infinix is letting its product do the talking for them, and a refrigerator turns out to be pretty compelling to make a point.

In Nigeria, where access to information and the right care can feel like walking through fire, two women somehow found their way through it. 

Debbie (33)

Debbie was eleven when her back started hurting.

When she informed her parents about this persistent pain, they came to a conclusion that made the most sense at the time. They looked at her school bag, decided it was probably too heavy for her back to handle, and tried their best to massage the pain away every night for about two months. The night massages seemed to ease the pain until the day a bulge appeared and completely flipped the script.

Her parents realised that this was more serious than theyā€™d thought, and immediately took her to the Teaching Hospital in her state. At first, they went to the paediatric unit, where the doctors ran tests, suspected tuberculosis and placed her on medications that made things worse. Eventually, they referred her to the orthopaedic unit, where a surgical consultant took one look at her spine and broke the news to them.

It was scoliosis, and the surgery could not be done in Nigeria. They told her that if anyone dared to operate on her locally, she would most likely be paralysed. But unfortunately, her parents couldnā€™t afford to take her abroad for treatment.

Debbie was a child, sitting in that office. She could not fully understand the conversation, but watching her mother weep profusely was enough.

For a long time after, she prayed and held onto hope the way you hold onto something when there is really nothing else to hold, while her parents, like most Nigerians, kept speaking life into her. People stared at her, and those who were bold enough asked questions while others offered prayers. Her family and close friends never once treated her like she was broken, and that made all the difference.

Since nothing could be done at the time, she and her parents left it to God, and she just kept living. For 21 years, she lived with the scoliosis completely unmanaged, with no treatment to stop her curve from deteriorating with every passing year.

Bennie (27)

Bennieā€™s diagnosis arrived when somebody else noticed something first.

Someone from her school noticed something off about the way she walked and, out of concern, mentioned it to her mother, who took her to the National Orthopaedic Hospital in Igbobi, Lagos, during the school holidays. She was thirteen, and the doctors, after attending to her, read her diagnosis: . ā€œIdiopathicā€ means that it has no known cause. The scoliosis had simply arrived, without any grand entrance, and found a home in her spine.

She burst into tears right there in the hospital. She genuinely thought her life was over, and throughout that day, she kept asking her parents if they had noticed anything weird from birth, as though an earlier warning would have changed something. They said no. What held her together in that moment was her mother. She did not cry, not in front of her. Instead, her mother told her firmly that the diagnosis would never stop her life. 

Those were the words sheā€™d needed to hear, and Bennie carried them long after that day.

Surgery was immediately recommended to her parents, and although plans were put in place for it, every one of them fell through, until the family just stopped talking about it altogether. 

ā€œLooking back, I truly believe that was Godā€™s hand at work,ā€ Bennie says. The path that fell through would have taken her under the knife. The path she eventually found was far gentler.

The years in between

The years passed for both women. They went to school, built lives and moved through the world with a condition that the people around them did not always know how to respond to. 

For Bennie, scoliosis never shook her sense of self, but it quietly rearranged aspects of her life. After her diagnosis, her mother called the school principal and had her removed from the dance group and stripped of her prefect position. House chores were banned. Anything that might strain her spine was taken away. 

She understood that her motherā€™s actions came from a place of love, yet she still felt the loss. As an adult, scoliosis followed her into her relationships with partners whose concerns always selfishly circled back to childbearing. 

She recalls a partner once asking her, ā€œHow will you carry a child?ā€

Working remotely meant that on the days the pain crept in, she could simply rest or reach for a muscle rub without it derailing her entire day. She had made up her mind early on that scoliosis would not stop her from achieving what she needed to achieve. And it did not. 

With no treatment to fund, scoliosis never became a financial burden for Debbie. She learned over the years to avoid long walks and standing for too long, and pushed through the harder stretches like university and NYSC on sheer will and faith.

The experience was more visible and harder to navigate in public, with the boldness of strangers who asked without hesitation or sensitivity, and the prayers from well-wishers who looked at her body as something to be fixed. She received it all with grace and kept going.

When things took a turn

In 2018, Debbie contacted a surgeon, but he went incommunicado after the initial consultations, and she adjusted. Later in the year, she found a community called and shared her story with them. When they welcomed her with open arms, she felt like she was not alone in this. Her parents remain supportive, but connecting with other scoliosis warriors felt different.

By 2024, when the community hosted a webinar featuring a scoliosis surgeon named Dr Mutaleeb Shobode, her condition had already begun to take a serious toll on her. Her breathing was getting worse, she could not stand for long, and the pain had become something she could no longer push through. Her curve had reached 154 degrees, while surgery is typically recommended at 40. 

She had been living, breathing and praying with a spine that had curved so deep over twenty-one years of no treatment. She would still be living like that if she hadnā€™t listened to Dr Shobode talk about .

(Debbie’s back pre-surgery)

ā€œHe spoke about it as if it were a simple procedure. I could feel his competence from where I was seated,ā€ Debbie says.

The way Dr Shobode talked about spinal fusion stayed with her. She knew, right there and then, that she had to take control of her life. She booked an appointment with him and flew from Port Harcourt to Lagos without telling anyone. 

By the time she left her consultation with the surgeon, the fear she had walked in with had transformed into full-blown confidence. She only called her family after she had made her decision.

2024 was Bennieā€™s turning point, too, but her path to treatment started differently. 

In May, the fatigue became difficult to ignore, the spinal pain was worse than before, and her breathing grew difficult in a way that concerned her. She visited platforms like YouTube, Instagram and Google, and desperately dug through everything she could find. The algorithm, she will tell you, was very helpful, leading her to a woman called who runs a platform called , teaching exercises and speaking openly about physiotherapy as a treatment path for scoliosis. 

Bennie went down a rabbit hole, going through every post and video, and from that moment on, she knew physiotherapy was the treatment destined for her, though not without some scepticism at first. Trusting content she had found on the internet over medical professionals was not something she took lightly, but the more she researched and the more results she saw, the harder it became to dismiss.

Surgery had never felt like a safe or appealing option. She had come across stories of people who went under the knife only for their curve to regress, and others who still lived with chronic pain long after the procedure. She also had a life she was not willing to put on hold. She loved dancing, going out, living freely, and physiotherapy was the only path that allowed her to keep all of that intact.

ā€œWhat I noticed,ā€ she observes, ā€œwas that no African, Nigerians especially, ever recommends physiotherapy for scoliosis. They focus on surgery, but foreigners have so much information about physiotherapy. I started wishing I wasnā€™t in Nigeria.ā€

Armed with enough information about physiotherapy and fully convinced that it was the right path for her, she walked into the hospital knowing what she wanted, discussed her curve angle of 45 degrees with a doctor, and started physiotherapy treatment shortly after.

(Bennie’s back pre-therapy)

The inclusive road to healing

While Bennie was just beginning her treatment journey, Debbie was preparing for something far more intense. Her surgery was not one procedure. It was three. Because her curve was so severe, her ribs had grown crowded and scattered over the years, in ways they were never meant to, and the procedures did not come cheap. The bill ran into double-digit millions, a sum that was covered miraculously through the support of friends.

The first procedure was an anterior release. Surgeons cut away some of her ribs to create space and give her spine room to stretch. She recovered well enough from that stage of the surgery that her doctor brought her back to the theatre the very next day. 

Then came the halo pelvic traction, a device attached to her skull and pelvis that was gradually stretched every single day to pull her spine incrementally straighter. The halo pelvic traction was not supposed to be torturous, but after two weeks, the rods began to bend, straining her neck and causing her waist such pain that at some point she could not sit down for anything. Standing became her only option for all activities, like eating and going to the restroom.Ā 

She wore it for six weeks and two days. In that time, her curve went from 154 to 66 degrees.

(Debbie in a halo pelvic traction)

Then came the spinal fusion.

ā€œThe next word after spinal fusion is P-A-I-N,ā€ she says. ā€œMy body was tired. I had already been through two procedures, and they were draining enough.ā€

After her spinal fusion surgery, she was placed on pain medications like morphine, pethidine and muscle relaxants, and had to learn to walk again. Her left hand locked up entirely and needed physiotherapy to regain movement, a process that is still ongoing. 

She had to relearn bending, bathing, sitting down, putting on trousers, picking items up from cupboards and drawers, getting into a car, putting on shoes, and even reaching for the TV remote when it dropped. All the things nobody thinks about until a spine stops doing that work. 

She has since learned to squat, which has made things considerably easier. Insomnia came with it, too. For months, she could only lie on her back because turning to her side was impossible.

Despite all of these, she is here, alive. Her breathing has improved, she stands a little taller, and she is moving at her own pace, toward the life she flew to Lagos alone to fight for.

(Debbie’s back post-surgery)

Bennie is nearly two years into physiotherapy and still going once a week now, down from twice a week. Her curve has reduced, her posture has shifted in ways that make her friends stop and stare when they see her back, completely shocked at what has been achieved. 

The pain, fatigue, and breathing difficulties she once had have all significantly eased. She still dances, still goes out to live her life, and when her spine requests rest, she listens. Living fully on her own terms was the whole reason she chose physiotherapy in the first place.

(Bennie in the middle of a session)

There is something she has not let go of, though. On her very first physiotherapy visit, her physiotherapist looked at her X-ray and caught something the doctor who reviewed it had missed. Her lungs and spine were competing for space, a detail that completely changes everything about how you treat someone, sitting there unacknowledged until the right person looks. 

Addressing it meant a combination of exercises with weights, a stability ball, manual therapy, spinal manipulation and a (TENS) machine. The sessions were never linear, but over time her body began to respond.

(An X-Ray of Bennie’s spine)

ā€œIf I didnā€™t have someone as good as my physiotherapist, I wouldnā€™t have known,ā€ she says. ā€œIt was really bad negligence on the doctorā€™s part.ā€

She says it because she wants other people to know that you can fall through the gaps of a system that is still painfully behind, and you are allowed to keep looking until you find someone who actually sees the full picture.

Two women, two cases of scoliosis, and two completely different paths to treatment. 

What they share is the particular experience of growing up with scoliosis in Nigeria, where the conversation has long strayed to surgery as the only option and where the internet sometimes holds more answers than healthcare professionals. Sometimes, all it takes is a webinar, an Instagram page, or a woman on the internet doing her exercises and talking openly about her curved spine to change the entire direction of your life.

Debbie, nearly a year out from her spinal fusion surgery and still in recovery, has seen her curve reduce from 154 degrees to 23. She puts it this way, ā€œRecovery takes time. Give yourself grace. Not everybodyā€™s journey is the same. Some people recover faster, and that is okay. Do things at your own pace, even when others expect more from you.ā€

Bennie, still in physiotherapy and showing up every week, says, ā€œDonā€™t fixate on your curve. The number of degrees on a scan is not the most important thing. What matters is your quality of life. The real goal is to wake up every day able to move freely, live without pain, and function without limitations. That is absolutely achievable.ā€

Bennie hasnā€™t checked her current curve degree, but she believes she has seen significant improvement.

°Õ³ó±šĢżĀ is returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.Ā Real stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.Ā .

Menopause has a way of catching women off guard because nothing quite prepares you for what it takes. For many women in the workplace, that unpreparedness shows up in the emotions they have spent years learning to manage, suddenly refusing to be managed.Ā 

In this article, Nigerian women open up about a quiet unravelling of the identities they spent their entire careers building.

1. ā€œIā€™ve started having awful memory lapsesā€ ā€” Tinuade*, 45

Before menopause, my memory was the clearest. While some of my friends had trouble remembering an event that happened decades ago, I had no trouble with it. I was the co-worker everyone ran to when they couldnā€™t remember something. They used to say there was no use documenting work stuff because they had someone like me in the office. That was something I took pride in, but when my menstrual periods permanently stopped, I started having these awful memory lapses. 

These days, itā€™s a miracle if I remember the food I ate an hour ago. At work, I can barely remember what my colleagues say during meetings, and now, theyā€™re the ones reminding me what task I am supposed to do. Itā€™s frustrating, going from someone who can remember the colour of the shoes an actress on TV wore years ago, to someone who has a hard time remembering what she got up to during the day. 

My doctor friend recommended a supplement, and while they have helped with my hot flashes, my memory has not improved at all. I keep taking them, hoping, but I am also looking into other options.

2. ā€œI didnā€™t realise how much of a privilege sleep wasā€ ā€” Chioma*, 46

I had a regular sleep schedule that worked well for me because I always had to be up as early as 4 am to get ready for the day. My work hours have always been gruelling, but having a sleep schedule that gave me at least seven hours of sleep helped me stay active at work. I didnā€™t realise how much of a privilege that was until menopause. Countless times, Iā€™ve had to stay awake in the middle of the night because of uncomfortable hot flashes that my medications have not been able to curb. Even when I try a cold shower or sleeping pills, it takes a long time before sleep finds me. 

Now, I wake up at 6:30 am, and Iā€™m always so tired. My brain has to work extra hard to keep me awake and get me through the day. Before, I could finish five deliverables by the end of the day, but now? I thank God if I can even finish one. Iā€™m still waiting for the day my boss gets tired of me and tells me the company no longer needs me.

Although if Iā€™m being honest, even on my worst days, I still outperform some of my male colleagues. That thought is the only thing that eases my fear, because I do my best not to make my struggles obvious at work.Ā 

3. ā€œItā€™s a struggle not to say things that would get me sackedā€ ā€” Anuoluwa*, 50Ā 

I work in a male-dominated PR and Advertising agency. As one of the few female executives, Iā€™ve always had to control my tongue during meetings when a male executive interrupts me while I’m in the middle of sharing an idea that could be helpful to a project. It irritated me a lot, but because there were many more men than women, I had to learn to keep quiet. 

This disrespect thrived until menopause finally got to me, and my brain-to-mouth filter shut down. 

I no longer have the patience to tolerate the things I once did. At meetings, whenever I get interrupted by a man in the room, I snap at him without caring. Iā€™ve received a query because one of the executives didnā€™t like the way I spoke to him. Itā€™s a struggle getting my mouth not to say anything that would get me sacked.

Iā€™m good at my job, but at the same time, Iā€™m stepping on a lot of toes that are not used to being stepped on. 

4. ā€œI refused to let it define meā€ ā€” Anike*, 48

When I hit menopause, I knew I would not be able to fulfil my lifelong dream of spending all my life in corporate. 

I was constantly exhausted and struggling to speak as eloquently as I once had, but I refused to let that define me after all the contributions I had made to put the company on the map.

I spent months researching businesses I could invest in. I have never been one to sit idle, so I had lengthy discussions with friends who are full-time business owners, and got the idea to set up a textile business.

Once my business was up and running, I was finally able to resign. 

I miss the stable routine my 9-5 gave me, but it has been much easier to manage my menopause alongside my business. I have a wonderful sales assistant, so even when words fail me, as they often do, she is there to help me communicate more clearly. I no longer have to panic at the thought of being perceived as incompetent, and while my medication has not helped as much as everyone promised it would, I am more at peace with myself.

5. ā€œIā€™ve teared up in my bossā€™s office too many timesā€ ā€” Stella*, 40

Menopause has made me extremely sensitive. Iā€™m used to having a thick skin that can take any criticism at work without complaint. It is something I believed was necessary to survive in a corporate setting in Nigeria, and I was right, because since I hit menopause, my boss has deemed me ā€œtoo emotional.ā€ 

Nigerian bosses expect you to take all the negative things they throw at you. Honestly, I didnā€™t mind before, but the early arrival of my menopause has messed everything up. There have been one too many cases of me tearing up in my bossā€™s office after heā€™s done shouting at me for not doing the deliverable the way heā€™d asked me to. 

Itā€™s embarrassing, and I hate the way my boss now uses this to justify his argument that women shouldnā€™t be working. Iā€™ve decided I might resign and finally look into the perfume business Iā€™ve been thinking of starting. I no longer have the emotional bandwidth to survive that toxic workplace. 

6. ā€œEvery morning, I beg myself to get out of bedā€ ā€” Bolu*, 53

I love working, so I usually donā€™t mind the number of tasks dumped on me. My boss can call me in the middle of the night to assign a task that I must execute before the next day, and I wonā€™t mind much, since being a single mother of a grown teenager means I donā€™t usually have many responsibilities outside work. 

I also like how the tasks shut off my brain in a way that I like. I valued that a lot. Itā€™s why Iā€™m so angry at menopause, because it has taken away the energy I used to put into my work. Now, every morning, I beg myself to get out of bed because I donā€™t have the will to start my day. Normally, at work, I go beyond whatā€™s expected of me, but these days, I donā€™t even have the strength to do what is expected of me. 

This has affected my performance, and my boss has begun to express her disappointment. I really donā€™t think I will last another year at my place of work. I suspect she might understand if I told her, but I canā€™t bring myself to have that conversation. I am looking into treatments and low-effort exercises that might help, but even so, I really donā€™t think I will last another year at my place of work.

7. ā€œThe anxiety has made work overbearingā€ ā€” Moyo*, 54

Iā€™m a university lecturer, and although I educated myself on everything a woman should know about menopause, I was still not prepared for it. I thought that my career wouldnā€™t be affected because I was ready for the hot flashes, insomnia and occasional mood swings to be as bad as they were.

My prescribed drugs have helped keep some of that in check, but anxiety was something I never saw coming, and nothing I am on has helped with it.

There are times when I am scared to enter class and face my students. At first, it didnā€™t make sense to me because Iā€™ve been teaching for almost two decades now, and Iā€™ve never had a racing heart at the thought of facing students. I even thought it was just a one-time thing, but then, it transitioned into me not wanting to talk to my students personally, even though Iā€™m a level advisor. It became difficult to call a student to discuss their grades because of all the overthinking that went into it. 

Iā€™m considering leaving my job because Iā€™m actually very tired. 

8. ā€œI find it hard to string two sentences togetherā€ ā€” Elo*, 46

Educating myself on menopause did not prepare me for the way my brain went from sharp to dumb. 

I find it hard to string two sentences together, and for a woman who works in communications, this is quite embarrassing. Before, I could go toe-to-toe with any colleague when arguing, but now? I stay out of arguments because, even when I have my facts, my brain cannot make them blend seamlessly. I know now that this is brain fog, but knowing what it is does not make it any easier to live with.

When I have to write a press release, I take hours writing the first sentence because even though I know what I want to write, I canā€™t find it in me to write it. Iā€™ve started assigning my deliverables to the entry-level staff under me, and I feel so bad for them because theyā€™re doing more than they can handle, but I am unable to do well at my work. 

9. ā€œMy easy camaraderie with staff no longer existsā€ ā€” Kemi*, 56

My menopause has turned me into this strange woman who is constantly irritated. My husband and my kids tend to steer clear of me when Iā€™m in one of those moods, and at work, it is the same. 

I own a hairdressing salon, and I have about 15 staff, including apprentices, and we all had a good rapport before. I was the kind of boss they could approach to talk about anything and everything, but ever since menopause happened, that easy camaraderie no longer exists. 

I am constantly irritated with them, even for the smallest mistakes I usually overlook. They no longer come to me, and it makes me sad because I liked it when they did. Some even stopped working for me, and in a year, Iā€™ve had to replace some of my best hairstylists. 

10. ā€œA fog clouds my brainā€™s ability to make senseā€ ā€” Anita*, 48

There are days when my body doesn’t mind getting out of bed and getting ready for work, but there have been many times when Iā€™ve woken up and asked myself whether going to work was really important. 

Iā€™m an accountant, and my office is close to my house. But menopause has made that little distance feel like a long one. I have to force myself to get ready, and even at work, I can barely pay attention, which is frustrating because I deal with numbers. My brain needs constant focus, but thereā€™s this fog clouding its ability to make sense. 

I canā€™t count the number of times Iā€™ve messed up at work, and my colleague had to cover for me. Iā€™m scared that one day she’ll stop, and my mistakes will be visible to my bosses. 

11. ā€œI have to force myself to stay presentā€ ā€” Annie*, 44

One thing no one told me about menopause is depression. It hit me out of nowhere. I can barely work since most of the time, I have to force myself to be present in the moment. It takes me weeks to finish a simple task, and my boss has started entrusting projects I was supposed to work on to other colleagues because he canā€™t trust me to finish them on time. 

The only reason why I still have this job is that Iā€™ve contributed a lot to the companyā€™s growth, and although my boss is disappointed in my recent performance, he believes Iā€™ve earned my ā€œlazinessā€. I donā€™t correct him when he says that because I donā€™t think he is the kind of person to understand menopause or depression fully.  

Next Read: ā€œI Crawled on the Floor With an Open Woundā€ ā€” Queenā€™s College Graduates Share Their Worst Memories

1. The bulk-buy deal that expired while you waited for salary

Your supplier gracefully offered 20% off for upfront payment, but salary was two weeks away, so you decided to wait, but unfortunately for you, the deal expired, and you bought the same stock at full price and spent the ā€œsavingsā€ you were trying so hard to protect.

A 20% discount on a N500,000 order is N100,000 left on the table, and a two-week loan would have probably cost a fraction of that. A planned credit decision means you call the supplier, accept the deal, and repay the moment your salary enters your account.

2. The contract you won but couldnā€™t execute

The client picked you out of a hundred people, then you realised you needed N900,000 upfront and had N300,000 in your account, so you asked for more time, and unfortunately, they moved on to other prospects. Or you took the job anyway, struggled to fund it, delivered late, and spent six months managing a reputation you used to be sure of.

3. The investment window that closed while you were ā€œsorting it outā€

Land in that estate was going for N3.5 million, and you spent three weeks trying to gather the funds together before it sold out in the fourth week. A year and six months later, the same plots are now going for N6 million.

Not every opportunity justifies borrowing, we agree, but when the numbers are clear, and the repayment is mapped out, the question is not whether to borrow but whether you have a loan option you already trust before the window closes.

4. The certification that would have paid for itself in three months

Your company was hiring one level above you, but the role required a certification that cost N180,000, and since you couldnā€™t front it at the time, you decided to save up, only for the role to be filled by someone who had done the course eight months earlier.

That salary band difference compounds every year you stay below it, and when N180,000 repaid over four months at N45,000 a month is all it takes, youā€™re cash-flow positive the moment the cert moves your income up by more than that.

5. The panic scramble that cost more than a loan would have

You needed N400,000 urgently, so you cashed out an investment early and paid the penalty. You borrowed from three friends, two of whom youā€™re still awkward around, and promised your elder sister youā€™d pay her back before her rent for the next year was due, and the total cost of that scramble was probably higher than any reasonable interest rate would have been.

A pre-approved loan you can access in hours gives you a clean, structured way to handle emergencies without raiding your savings or affecting your relationships.

6. The side hustle that never launched

You were able to build the idea and the plan from the ground up, but not the N400,000 for equipment, inventory, and setup, so you deferred until six months became a full year, while someone else launched the same idea, worked out the kinks, and built the customer base you could have had.

A startup loan with a repayment plan tied to projected revenue is not necessarily reckless. Itā€™s actually how most small businesses start.

7. Ā The emergency that reset months of progress

You had N500,000 saved, but out of nowhere, a medical bill arrived and consumed almost all of it, and you watched months of progress disappear in a week while the mental weight of rebuilding from near-zero hits differently than the numbers suggest.

A short-term loan to cover the emergency, repaid over a few months, lets you handle the crisis without any issue, because keeping your savings intact during emergencies is a strategy, not avoidance.

None of these is stories about reckless borrowing; theyā€™re about people with real needs and clear repayment paths who waited instead of acting. The responsible move is not avoiding credit but knowing when itā€™s the right tool and using it with a plan.

Thatā€™s what Carbon is built for. Download the app  

In this piece, former students of Queen’s College reflect on moments that stayed with them long after graduation.

1. ā€œThey slapped me back to backā€ ā€” Amma*, 23

There was a time when I was at the schoolā€™s pavilion with my friends, and seniors approached me to let me know I was seated with my legs spread for the public and asked, ā€œDonā€™t you know how to sit?ā€ At that time, I didnā€™t know how to sit properly, so I replied, ā€œNo, I donā€™t.ā€ 

For some reason, they thought I was being rude, so one of them asked me to kneel, and then they slapped me back to back. One person would slap me, another would do the same, and they just kept taking turns. 

Later, before school was over, they called me into their class to continue my punishment. By the end of the day, my ears were ringing till I got home.

2. ā€œThe skin of my fingers peeled from all the clothes I washedā€ ā€” Tinuola*, 50

When I was in junior secondary school, I experienced what extortion looked like in the form of Queenā€™s College seniors. Every week, unfailingly, they would find an innocent junior to prey on, give her 5 naira, ask her to get them snacks worth 20 naira and bring back 40 naira. If she didnā€™t do it, she was at risk of getting punished. I also experienced this quite a lot. 

The first time it happened to me, when I asked how I would get snacks of 20 naira if I was only given 1 naira to work with, they ignored me. Thinking they were not serious, I didnā€™t go to the tuck shop like they expected me to. Later that day, they found me in my class, and I will never forget the beating I got that day. 

It didnā€™t stop there. They waited a few days for me to recover, then they dumped their dirty laundry on me to wash. My fingers’ skin peeled back from all the clothes I washed. The next time they sent me on that errand, I didnā€™t waste time before getting to it. My allowance suffered, but I preferred that to the beating. 

3. ā€œThey used mopsticks to flog usā€ ā€” Kanyin*, 24Ā 

When it came to march past training, the seniors didnā€™t spare anyone. When I was in SS1, we were expected to march while the SS3 girls trained us, and honestly, it was not a good time because of how much violence they poured into it. The training was hell. The seniors were very fond of using mopsticks of different lengths to flog us, made us roll in the sand, and engaged in all sorts of things in the name of ā€œtraining.ā€ Sometimes, they would even make us train until midnight. 

Iā€™ll never forget how one particular senior made my best friend lie down beside a wet gutter with spirogyra and flogged her on her butt with a mopstick, or how they would slap people so hard their ears would ring for days. It was terrible. Some of my classmates couldnā€™t sit down in class for days because of the bruises on their bodies. If youā€™re wondering why quitting was not an option, it was because they would, as we say, ā€œenrushā€ us, which in simpler terms means gang-beating.

4. ā€œI was dragged around like an animalā€ ā€” Tega*, 20Ā 

There was a rumour going around that a senior had lost her dad, and in a bid to bond with her, a dorm mate lied, saying I’d said the seniorā€™s behaviour was bad because of her fatherā€™s death. That was how the gates of hell were opened.

The night I was called to her dorm, I was in my towel because Iā€™d been washing. I noticed people were gathered watching me, but I didnā€™t pay it much attention until I was stripped naked and they proceeded to gang-beat me. Some used mopsticks and buckets while others used their hands, and the number of people hitting me kept increasing because this senior was quite popular, so friends from other dorms came to join in. I was dragged around like an animal, and even when my best friend tried to beg them to stop, they beat her, too. At some point, I became completely numb.

When my parents found out, they took it up to the authorities, but nothing was actually done to those involved. That was just how it was at QC. The wicked seniors barely had to account for their brutal actions.

5. ā€œThe slaps had my ears ringing all nightā€ ā€” Ifeoluwa*, 24Ā 

I remember a time a senior took a particular interest in me. She would offer me food from the dining hall and call me over to stay in her room. At the time, I didnā€™t understand that she was expressing romantic interest, though honestly, I think I should have caught on.

It came crashing down the day she finally told me how she felt, and I rejected her. After that, her friends decided to take it personally. Some would call me over just to slap me for no reason. I remember one in particular: she was supervising the class beside mine and decided to punish me in the corridor for loitering. The slaps she gave me had my ear ringing all night. 

This went on for a long time, until the day I was summoned to apologise for hurting the seniorā€™s feelings and made to fetch a stack of buckets as tall as me. I spent that night crying and carrying buckets of water, but after that, they left me alone.

6. ā€œI fetched a bucket of water with a teaspoonā€ ā€” Nimi*, 24

This happened when I was in JSS2. It was the end of prep, and we were about to leave the class area when, for some reason I canā€™t quite remember, I shouted: ā€œMorale high,ā€ a phrase we used to say at the time. Immediately, I felt a slap on my back. A senior had hit me, and when I tried to explain myself, I got slapped again. She then dragged me all the way from the JSS2 block to the front of the seniorsā€™ dorm, where she kept hitting me. When the beating was finally over, she made me fetch a bucket of water with a teaspoon and polish mouldy shoes for more than 40 people. All because I said ā€œMorale high.ā€

7. ā€œThey knew we were at their mercyā€ ā€” Rita*, 32

In Queenā€™s College, there is this thing that happens when you enter SS2. Youā€™re expected to join a cadet school band or be an official callisthenics dancer. A lot of us wanted to join the school band because it gave us the opportunity to leave school. The seniors knew how desperate we were for this, so they exploited it since they were technically in charge of the band. 

We had to do whatever they asked us, like fetching water, buying their food, and the like. They would beat us with anything they could get their hands on because they knew we were at their mercy. I donā€™t know when this started, but apparently, itā€™s a tradition that has spanned over the years. Itā€™s silly that we were punished just for wanting to be part of something. 

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8. ā€œThey broke an umbrella on my friendā€™s bodyā€ ā€” Kiitan*, 23

This happened during night prep in SS2, third term. The SS3 girls had already written WAEC, and most had moved out of the hostel, but a group of tomboys, athletes, and footballers we called ā€œblokesā€ had stayed back and still came out for night prep.

That night, some of my classmates and I decided to ā€œshop,ā€ which meant going into SS3 classes to take books we might need since they were done with exams. While we were doing this, someone joked about the possibility of those blokes appearing, and it was like she manifested them: the next minute, they appeared, and we had to run the moment they saw us. It was a full race for survival, and in the chaos, I lost my slipper, and one asthmatic friend nearly had an attack from the stress.

When things seemed settled, I went back for my slippers, and it turned out to be a bad decision. The moment I got there, a bloke was waiting for me, and when I tried to escape, another was waiting by the exit. One of them grabbed my shirt and let me know that she had seen my face and my classmatesā€™, and that we were to appear in their class the next morning.

The next morning, we went there like people with a death sentence. When we walked in, they didnā€™t waste time. They beat us, made us kneel on the ground for hours, and forced us to clean their dirty classroom. Anyone who showed even the slightest attitude suffered worse. I watched one senior girl break an entire umbrella on my friendā€™s body, all in the name of ā€œanger issues.ā€

9. ā€œThey made me crawl on the floor with an open woundā€ ā€” Chioma*, 24Ā 

I had a habit of avoiding work and ā€˜stabbingā€™ classes, and there was a time I was caught by the head girl in this place called the obong corridor. She made me crawl on the untiled floor. I had an open wound at the time and pleaded with her about it, but she didnā€™t listen. I watched my skin peel off the floor with every movement as I made my way towards her on my knees. The wound remained sore and infected for 2 weeks and left a scar afterwards. 

10. ā€œAt QC, no one ever really listens to youā€ ā€” Fauziah*, 19Ā 

I really obsessed over peopleā€™s opinions of me when I was young, and in Queenā€™s College, that was a weakness. The other girls didnā€™t really like the fact that I was one of the smartest in class, and they knew how much things got to me, so maybe out of jealousy or something else, they used that as a weapon. 

I was 12, going to 13, and that time of my life was really sensitive. Having other girls mock my face, hair and body was not something that I could easily let slide off my back. I was seriously affected by it because they did it continuously, and sometimes, they would even steal from me just to teach me a lesson. 

I couldnā€™t talk to anyone because at Queenā€™s College, no one ever really listens to you. They expect you to just figure it out. Throughout my junior school years, whenever I called home, I would cry and say I didnā€™t want to be in QC anymore. In my opinion, the school was designed to break you. No one I know ever has good things to say about QC, and we only ever bond over our shared trauma. I do not miss that school in any way. 

11. ā€œThey threatened to send naked pictures of us to KC boysā€ ā€” Sarah*, 25

When I was at QC, there was a tradition:  seniors resumed on Saturday, and juniors resumed on Sunday. I was in SS2, so my friends and I resumed on Saturday. That night, we needed to take our baths, but there was no water, so we headed to an area called 48, which had many taps but was meant only for SS3 girls. It was an unspoken rule everyone knew about. We werenā€™t supposed to be there, but it was our only option.

Unfortunately, some SS3 girls caught us bathing there and decided to punish us badly for having the guts to use their space. They made us lie on the ground and roll on it while they had their baths, and afterwards took us to their room and told us to sleep naked as part of our punishment. They also threatened to take videos of us and send them to Kingā€™s College boys.

It was such a disgusting and humiliating experience. I can never forget the faces of those seniors.

12. Ā ā€œI couldnā€™t acknowledge that she was assaulting meā€ ā€” Toun*, 44Ā 

When I was younger, I was quite naive, so I didn’t think too much of it when a senior approached me in junior secondary school and started acting like my school mother. I didnā€™t mind because everyone in my life spoke fondly of school mothers, so I turned a blind eye to all her actions. 

She grabbed my breast multiple times and told me that it was normal for girls who were friends to do it. I didnā€™t think much of it, even though I was quite uncomfortable. Sometimes, I would study with her because she always said it was important we did it together, and during those times, her fingers would stray from my breast to my vagina, and she would play with it. I donā€™t remember a lot because that was a long time ago, and I am still very ashamed, but I do remember I thought what was happening was wrong. 

I also wanted to tell someone about it, but I didnā€™t because it felt like I owed this senior my life. Because of her, I was safe from other seniors who were looking to bully me. There were many times when I ran out of provisions, and she would give me from her stash until I got new ones. She was kind to me, and maybe thatā€™s why I didnā€™t really acknowledge that she was basically assaulting me. 

13. ā€œWe slept at the school gate overnightā€ā€” Amaka*, 25Ā 

In my final days at Queens College, some girls in my dorm were secretly cooking in their rooms, even though it was clearly against school rules. I wasnā€™t involved at all. When they were caught, the girls who were responsible ran away, and the rest of us who were innocent were left behind to face the punishment.

We were flogged, then evacuated from the dorm and made to sleep at the school gate overnight. It was during Ramadan, and many of us were fasting. It was uncomfortable, humiliating, and exhausting. The next morning was even more embarrassing. We were still in our nightclothes and housewear while other students walked past in their uniforms. Our parents were also involved, which added even more pressure and shame.

Nobody said anything about the real culprits. As a teenager, especially in an all-girls school, being called a snitch felt worse than the pain itself. I had only just started boarding in SS2, so the whole experience was a terrible introduction to boarding life. What made it worse was seeing the actual culprits the next morning, dressed in their uniforms as if nothing had happened, with no real consequences for them.

Now, when I think back, I sometimes feel cowardly and like I betrayed myself by keeping quiet. But I also understand that at that age, in that environment, I was just trying to survive and avoid being targeted. It was a very painful experience, but it also taught me a lot about justice, courage, and how silence can hurt you.ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹

14. ā€œEvery other day, she would have bruises on her bodyā€ ā€” Bolu*, 23Ā 

When I was in JSS3, I had a close friend whose older brother attended Kingā€™s College. Over the holiday, some seniors from our school went out with him and his friends, and at some point, he called one of them ugly. He probably didnā€™t think it was a big deal, but when we resumed, everything began to change for my friend.

Instead of going after the person who insulted them, they came after her, and it wasnā€™t something that could be overlooked. Every time she was in their vicinity, they would find the nearest item, usually a mopstick, and beat her with it. There was no safe place for her at school, and every other day she would have bruises on her body. She wasnā€™t the one who insulted them, and yet she had to face the consequences.

It got even worse when they started involving their friends and setmates. Different people would target her at different times, and it felt like she was constantly surrounded. It got so bad that her mom had to step in and drive all the way to Kingā€™s College to bring her son back to our school so he could apologise to the seniors. It was only after that that the bullying stopped.ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹

15. ā€œI ended up peeing on myselfā€ ā€” Elo*, 21

There was a time in junior school that stood out to me. I was fasting during Ramadan, and because I had eaten earlier around 6:30 am, I badly needed to pee. The cleaners had this habit of locking the toilets and not opening them early, so my buildingā€™s toilets were locked, and I had to search the entire school area. I was a day student, so I couldnā€™t go to the hostel to use the bathroom.

In my search, I found a toilet in the senior block that seemed open, and the cleaner was there. I begged her to please open it, that I was really pressed, but she told me to go back to my block. I cried and begged, but after a while, I gave up and walked away. I ended up peeing on myself. I cried that day, and the worst part was having to sit in my wet pinafore until school closed.

There was a sanitary problem at the school, where students used various places as toilets, and if they were caught, the school would embarrass and punish them. It was really painful because, personally, I felt the cleaners were the problem. We were children, so why humiliate us when the system was failing us in the first place?ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹ā€‹

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