<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She Called Me Woman is a collection of stories from a book by the same title that brings together 25 first-hand accounts of Queer Nigerian Women: to paint a vivid portrait of what it means to be queer and Nigerian woman in their own words. These beautifully told stories of resistance and resilience reveal the realities of a community that will no longer be invisible. From the joy and excitement of first love, and from childhood games to addiction and suicide, She Called Me Woman shows us how Nigerian queer women, in all their multitudes, attempt to build a life together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We, Fayida-team, selected two stories and translated it to Amharic so that their stories are shared and to rethink what it means to be an African queer woman identifying outside the \u201cnorm\u201d and the difficulties of achieving hopes and dreams in a climate of fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Oh jeez, I am beautiful! Even without make-up!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Content note: sexual violence, physical violence, forced medical treatment, depression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I identify as a human being first. If anybody pushes, I say, \u2018Fine, I am a woman, a lady.\u2019 There was a time when someone said, \u2018Oh you are a trans woman.\u2019 I said, \u2018No, I am not a trans woman, I am a woman.\u2019 And then there was a time when someone was like, \u2018A trans woman is a woman, but to me, whatever name you call it, a trans woman is a man.\u2019 Hello! It is not just about your genitalia, please. But let me start from the beginning.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I remember living as a boy. It was fun initially because I was effeminate. I was 5 or 6 and my parents didn\u2019t seem to care that I loved playing with female things. I loved watching movies that included ladies\u2019 stuff and all those things ladies love to do. They were just there but I loved doing them. Then my father, a military man, left us \u2013 left me \u2013 when I was 9. My mum became a single parent to me and my two brothers, and life got really tough till I graduated from school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In my teenage years, I was feminine. My trousers were unisex. I was more on the female side. I was always swaying when I walked, swinging my waist with reckless abandon because I didn\u2019t care what people said and because my mum showed me love and didn\u2019t seem to care either. I only started being concerned when she did, when it seemed as if there were external factors from her place of work, from society, saying, Why is your son like this? Why is your son like that? There was a time she would brush them all aside but then they started playing the religious card and all of a sudden it got to her. And she started giving it back to me.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Around that time, my younger brothers became huge, masculine, bearded men with deep voices. I, the first child, the first boy, was all feminine and gracious and my voice changed too. I sang in the choir and my voice went to sopralto, a higher key. When one of my brothers who used to sing that high key became baritone tenor, all the questions started coming out. What is going on? I would ask myself the same thing. Somewhere along the line, my body and I went through different processes. At the age of 16, I started battling with depression. Even though I knew I was attracted to men, I had not acted on that because we had been taught that homosexuality was a sin. I was still trying to figure myself out. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was always wishing. I wished I came out as a lady, oh I wished. I wished I was a lady, I wished I was a lady, I wished I was a lady! You know all these kinds of wishes. I wished, I wished, I wished I was a lady. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And at times, I would look into the mirror and try to accentuate my looks, then realize, Oh jeez, I am beautiful! Even without make-up!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One day in 2001, while I was in school, a guy walked up to me with an old newspaper. He said, \u2018Read it. It is for you,\u2019 and walked away. This person had never spoken to me before. I picked up the newspaper and what did I see? A man had changed his sex to female. I looked at the date: 1984. And I was like, is what I have been wishing for real? I read through it with excitement, and there was even a picture. I was shocked! As of then, my quest for knowledge began. I went back to the guy who\u2019d given me the paper and he said I should go do my research. I did, and I realised that anything is possible. No more wishful thinking followed by depression because you think it\u2019s impossible. One day while doing research, I saw a book called Middlesex on Oprah.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s about a trans woman and I was like, Wow, so this is actually real. I continued googling. I was fighting with external pressure and at the same time, I was trying to know who I was. What was happening with me? Was I gay or was I a woman? I was afraid of acting on my sexual impulses because I knew I was attracted to men. I was trying to know myself and get through the confusion and conflict. My mind was going, No I am not gay, I am a lady \u2026 No, you are gay \u2026 uh uh, how else? And I thought my case might be more than that, that there must be something else. But at that point, I was always trying to know, trying to understand, trying to find me .
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I came out to my mum when I was twenty years old. I just walked up to her in the room and said \u2018Mum, I think I want to have a sex change. Not think. I know I want to. I am more like a lady and this is who I am.\u2019 I started talking and talking and talking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And she said, \u2018I think it is a demon speaking through you.\u2019 She tried to change my mind and made my brothers beat me up on the spot. I will never forget that day because it was just before my birthday. I didn\u2019t even have to come out to my brothers. She told them. It was a circle. They brought me there and she was screaming \u2018This is what your brother said o, haaay.\u2019 My brother was like, \u2018Really? No!\u2019 They were 18 and 16 at that point. They called me all sorts of names: \u2018You are a disgrace to us \u2026 You are urgh \u2026 You are this, you are that.\u2019 The once beautiful mum who was my angel became my demon and my brothers became her bulldogs, her emissaries. They had grown bigger than me, over six feet tall and quite macho. If you looked at them, you would quiver at the sight. There was no day they didn\u2019t beat me, their first-born \u2018brother\u2019.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I became less and less comfortable at home. When I wanted to clear my head, I would go to school and hear things like \u2018obirin-asuko\u2019, a Yoruba term that means boy-girl. Or \u2018obirin-okurin\u2019; those kinds of terms. And they were used in a friendly way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
So to me, it seemed as if the people at school were the ones who were okay, treating me like I was okay. But when I got home, I would only get a fight from my family. When I entered university, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. It wasn\u2019t a nice environment but at least it made me mingle with people. People who seemed to appreciate me as a person. I met people who, if they saw you being harassed, would say, \u2018Hey, stop am.\u2019 These people didn\u2019t come up to you and say, \u2018Let\u2019s be friends.\u2019 But anytime they had the opportunity to defend you, they would defend you and walk away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was staying in Sultan Bello, a male hostel at the University of Ibadan, and it was so adventurous. People often wondered, \u2018Is that a boy, or is that a girl?\u2019 \u2018Na boy, abi na girl?\u2019 And I just walked without giving a hoot. Sometimes I would wear bum shorts because I loved to flaunt my legs, right from when I was living as a boy. And guys would hit on me. They knew I was a boy and yet they still came to me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
What I loved then was that I was doing what they call \u2018shakara\u2019 \u2013 show off. I was not interested in a relationship or even sex; I just loved myself. And so a guy would come up and express himself saying, \u2018I like you.\u2019 When I said no, he\u2019d hurl insults at me \u2013 your papa, your mama \u2013 in frustration at being turned down. Some of them would then go to their girlfriends and say, \u2018That guy na fag; he approached me.\u2019 A lot of people frown at homosexuality and transsexuality, but so many of them are in their closets. I didn\u2019t give a hoot. I realized that I had to be strong for myself. You will not touch a small part of me and get away with it. I will retaliate on the spot so that you know I am not weak. They tend to harass the community. When the victim backs down, they keep doing it. They keep harassing us. But when you stand out and face them, they tend to back off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It doesn\u2019t mean I didn\u2019t have enemies at university, but at least everybody knew me as that beautiful boy. Some people would want to connect with me. Some would run from across the street to touch me. I felt like I belonged, contrary to what my family said, that people would stone me. Yes, when I was at home I had such experiences. Even while I was in school, I had such experiences, but they were not much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sultan Bello was a male hall but they hosted something called Ms Bello, where men dressed as women, like a drag or something. Macho guys would put up their pictures and everybody would come laugh. Even the Vice Chancellor sometimes attended. It was a very nice social event. They told me that I could do the Ms Bello, so I put up my picture and all the contestants backed off because I was exceptional. They said, \u2018No, this is Ms Bello, s\/he has the crown.\u2019 That was a beautiful day I will not forget, because it was the first time I expressed myself as a lady to the full glare of everyone. Other halls came: Independence, Idia, Queens, Kuti, Melambi, Tedder. I was the only one competing for the crown. It was the first time I expressed myself with my hair, make-up and outfit, and I glowed. They said the Ms Bello should dance to a song, so I played Crazy in Love by Beyonc\u00e9 and oh my goodness! I danced freely. I shook my bum, my tiny bum. I did everything. And because the show was within the hall space, it lasted till two in the morning.
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When it was over I removed the feminine attire, the make-up and everything I\u2019d used to express my true self, and went back to the life where I couldn\u2019t express myself. I became sad, but that memory lingered. If this kind of thing could happen, then I could see the future. It meant that there would come a time when I could live in that dream, not just enjoy it once, remove it, and drop it on the side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was so excited that I called my mum, who I had not spoken to for a long time, and told her, \u2018Guess what? I did this thing and it was so exciting \u2026\u2019 But she was antagonistic. Before I could say Jack Robinson I started receiving threatening messages: Oh you have started sleeping with men eh, ooohhhh, you have now sold your star, homosexual, blah blah blah. I said I had not started sleeping with men. I had not even had a boyfriend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019d just expressed myself. The woman in me was crying for release and she came back! I felt sad. I became depressed. Later, I realized that my mum was communicating with L , one of my best friends. I just turned her back on me and started insulting me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I was lucky; some people stood up for me. One of those people was the supervisor in charge of my project, Professor M. I was scared of her at first, but she made me feel free. I remember the day L<\/em> stabbed me in the back. She said \u2018No, no, no. You can\u2019t take pictures with us cos we are taking a final-year picture. Are you a he, a she or an it? In fact, you are a disgrace to your mother!\u2019 I told Professor M_. When I entered her office, she was combing her gold hair and looking at her reflection on her laptop. I told her what had happened and she said, \u2018Nobody has the right to infringe upon your rights!\u2019 Then she looked at me and said, \u2018I have heard so much about you. Why don\u2019t you start wearing earrings, necklaces and other jewelry?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2013JP, age 33, Lagos\/Ogun \/ Abuja <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" She Called Me Woman is a collection of stories from a book by the same title that brings together 25 first-hand accounts of Queer Nigerian Women: to paint a vivid portrait of what it means to be queer and Nigerian woman in their own words. These beautifully told stories of resistance and resilience reveal the realities of a community that will no longer be invisible. From the joy and excitement of first love, and from childhood games to addiction and suicide, She Called Me Woman shows us how Nigerian queer women, in all their multitudes, attempt to build a life together. We, Fayida-team, selected two stories and translated it to Amharic so that their stories are shared and to rethink what it means to be an African queer woman identifying outside the \u201cnorm\u201d and the difficulties of achieving hopes and dreams in a climate of fear. \u2018Oh jeez, I am beautiful! Even without make-up!\u2019 Content note: sexual violence, physical violence, forced medical treatment, depression. I identify as a human being first. If anybody pushes, I say, \u2018Fine, I am a woman, a lady.\u2019 There was a time when someone said, \u2018Oh you are a trans woman.\u2019 I said, \u2018No, I am not a trans woman, I am a woman.\u2019 And then there was a time when someone was like, \u2018A trans woman is a woman, but to me, whatever name you call it, a trans woman is a man.\u2019 Hello! It is not just about your genitalia, please. But let me start from the beginning. I remember living as a boy. It was fun initially because I was effeminate. I was 5 or 6 and my parents didn\u2019t seem to care that I loved playing with female things. I loved watching movies that included ladies\u2019 stuff and all those things ladies love to do. They were just there but I loved doing them. Then my father, a military man, left us \u2013 left me \u2013 when I was 9. My mum became a single parent to me and my two brothers, and life got really tough till I graduated from school. In my teenage years, I was feminine. My trousers were unisex. I was more on the female side. I was always swaying when I walked, swinging my waist with reckless abandon because I didn\u2019t care what people said and because my mum showed me love and didn\u2019t seem to care either. I only started being concerned when she did, when it seemed as if there were external factors from her place of work, from society, saying, Why is your son like this? Why is your son like that? There was a time she would brush them all aside but then they started playing the religious card and all of a sudden it got to her. And she started giving it back to me. Around that time, my younger brothers became huge, masculine, bearded men with deep voices. I, the first child, the first boy, was all feminine and gracious and my voice changed too. I sang in the choir and my voice went to sopralto, a higher key. When one of my brothers who used to sing that high key became baritone tenor, all the questions started coming out. What is going on? I would ask myself the same thing. Somewhere along the line, my body and I went through different processes. At the age of 16, I started battling with depression. Even though I knew I was attracted to men, I had not acted on that because we had been taught that homosexuality was a sin. I was still trying to figure myself out. I was always wishing. I wished I came out as a lady, oh I wished. I wished I was a lady, I wished I was a lady, I wished I was a lady! You know all these kinds of wishes. I wished, I wished, I wished I was a lady. And at times, I would look into the mirror and try to accentuate my looks, then realize, Oh jeez, I am beautiful! Even without make-up! One day in 2001, while I was in school, a guy walked up to me with an old newspaper. He said, \u2018Read it. It is for you,\u2019 and walked away. This person had never spoken to me before. I picked up the newspaper and what did I see? A man had changed his sex to female. I looked at the date: 1984. And I was like, is what I have been wishing for real? I read through it with excitement, and there was even a picture. I was shocked! As of then, my quest for knowledge began. I went back to the guy who\u2019d given me the paper and he said I should go do my research. I did, and I realised that anything is possible. No more wishful thinking followed by depression because you think it\u2019s impossible. One day while doing research, I saw a book called Middlesex on Oprah. It\u2019s about a trans woman and I was like, Wow, so this is actually real. I continued googling. I was fighting with external pressure and at the same time, I was trying to know who I was. What was happening with me? Was I gay or was I a woman? I was afraid of acting on my sexual impulses because I knew I was attracted to men. I was trying to know myself and get through the confusion and conflict. My mind was going, No I am not gay, I am a lady \u2026 No, you are gay \u2026 uh uh, how else? And I thought my case might be more than that, that there must be something else. But at that point, I was always trying to know, trying to understand, trying to find me . I came out to my mum when I was twenty years old. I just walked up to her in the room and said \u2018Mum, I think I want to have a sex<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2595,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,11],"tags":[25],"class_list":["post-800","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles","category-stories","tag-she-called-me-a-woman"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/800","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=800"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/800\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2587,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/800\/revisions\/2587"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2595"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=800"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=800"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/chilanchil.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=800"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
1 400-level = Fourth year at university 2 NYSC = National Youth Service Corps
3 LASUTH = Lagos State University Teaching Hospital<\/p>\n\n\n\n