![\"The](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/africa\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Coming-out-in-Nigeria-ILLO-1024x536.jpg\")
The challenge of coming out in Nigeria. (Illustration courtesy of Minority Africa)<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tYoung queer Nigerians reflect on coming out in their conservative nation.<\/p>\n
The challenge of coming out in Nigeria. (Illustration courtesy of Minority Africa)<\/p>\n
By Rabi Madaki<\/p>\n
In his sophomore year of college, 21-year-old Alex came out as gay to his middle-aged conservative Yoruba mother. He had gotten tired of the hetero-normative ideals his mother forced on him. \u201cShe was always going on about when I\u2019ll get a wife and kids,\u201d he says. During one of her tirades about having a traditional family, Alex snapped and decided to come out.<\/p>\n
\u201cI had considered it for a while, but the thing about coming out is that you don\u2019t really plan for it. It just happens, it\u2019s not like today you wake up and say you\u2019re coming out,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
Much like many conservative parents, Alex\u2019s mother viewed his sexuality as a problem that needed spiritual intervention and she immediately dragged him to see a pastor to \u201ccure\u201d his homosexuality.\u00a0Conversion therapy<\/a>\u00a0is an all too common problem that many LGBTQ+ youths from conservative backgrounds endure. Such negative reactions to coming out is mostly prevalent in deeply religious and conservative households.<\/p>\n The pastor who Alex\u2019s mother took him to wanted him to stay for deliverance in a section of the church where they starved people for days or weeks. On learning this, a shaken Alex retracted his statement about being gay, telling his mum, \u201cI\u2019m feeling better now. I don\u2019t have that feeling I told you about; it went away the moment I saw that pastor. That thing about deliverance, mum, I\u2019m not going.\u201d<\/p>\n A\u00a0survey\u00a0<\/a>by Nigerian NGO The Initiative for Human Rights (TIERs) found that 49% of interviewed queer Nigerians had undergone conversion therapy while 51% said they hadn\u2019t. Of this 51% fraction, the study did not account for people like Alex who narrowly escaped any form of conversion therapy. Further reports revealed that 36% percent of those that didn\u2019t undergo conversion knew someone who had.<\/p>\n There is limited data on how many queer Nigerians have undergone conversion therapy.\u00a0The majority of Nigerians identify as Christian or Muslim<\/a>, which creates room to speculate that a large number of people may have undergone conversion therapy. While this may be true, there exists a fraction of Nigerians who are receptive to their gay loved ones that come out.<\/p>\n Alex\u2019s brothers, who were the first people he came out to, showed support and were understanding. Still, Alex yearned for his mother\u2019s validation even though he knew of the strong traditional and conservative ideas she held. After the initial negative experience, he had to come out a second time to his mother.<\/p>\n This time the message was clearer, but she still disapproves of his sexuality, often insisting that he should \u201cswitch to a girl.\u201d Alex is 28 now and while they have their differences, he and his mother have a harmonious relationship.<\/p>\n For some queer people, coming out and living their sexuality to the knowledge of their conservative family is simply not an option. LGBTQIA Nigerians who embrace their sexuality often risk the possibility of being ostracised by their church and family. Favour, a 25-year-old lesbian and the daughter of a pastor, fears outright exile if she comes out to her family \u201cMy parents are unpredictable,\u201d she explains. She once tried to tell her closest cousin that she was a lesbian, but the cousin was disappointed so Favour dismissed the reveal as a joke. \u201cMaybe sometime soon I\u2019ll have the courage to tell my family, but I\u2019m not ready.\u201d<\/p>\n In her social life, Favour isn\u2019t particularly secretive about her sexuality; however, she is selective about to whom she discloses information. \u201cNot all of my friends know, but just the few that do are okay with it,\u201d she explains. Soon after she came out, she found her LGBTQ+ community through social media. \u201cPeople were taking hints from my status uploads and going \u2018are you gay? I\u2019m gay too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201dI think the best part of being gay is the community, everyone is so free,\u201d Favour adds as she recalls how the LGBT+ community was a haven when she struggled with being confident in her sexuality. While Favour has a strong support system in the community, she lacks this in her close friendships. One of her closest friends is a performative ally who reads queer books and writes about them but believes that homosexuality is a sin. \u201cShe has no idea her two best friends are gay,\u201d Favour remarks. Despite this performative allyship, Favour still stays friends as \u201dsome people are indispensable.\u201d<\/p>\n The importance of social support might be overlooked but it plays a crucial role in the lives of queer youths.\u00a0Studies\u00a0<\/a>show that a lack of support from friends and family can negatively impact the mental health of young queer youths that are yet to fully embrace their identities. Queer individuals who receive low or zero social support are likely to struggle with accepting their sexual orientation and gender identity. Thus, a lack of support can lead to shame, internalised homophobia and identity struggle.<\/p>\n The exact nature of the identity struggle differs from person to person. Some people experience struggles motivated by religious ostracization, while others deal with internalised shame. John, a 20-year-old bisexual man, often questioned his sexuality while growing up. His struggle was not motivated by religion, but rather by shame. \u201cI questioned myself a couple of times about why I would even think or want something like that \u2014 this was even after I accepted it [sexuality],\u201d he says.<\/p>\n The shame soon dissipated when John got exposed to positive media on LGBTQIA. He now attributes his shame to the social stigma attached to being queer as well as false information about queer people. To this day, John still suffers from this social stigma. He explains that the stigma affects his love life by reducing his chances of finding openly gay romantic partners.<\/p>\n \u201dFinding a gay man in Nigeria is like finding a bluebird,\u201d he says. John admits that he knows a few gay men but he says \u201dit\u2019s just online. They got my contact from friends that know I\u2019m bisexual.\u201d He adds that \u201dunlike a heterosexual relationship, there aren\u2019t diverse options of partners which makes it hard to find a relationship especially when you consider that most gay men blend [in] with straight people.\u201d<\/p>\n On the other hand, Alex\u2019s experience was the opposite. As a femme gay man, he easily attracts other gay men so meeting queer men has never been an issue.<\/p>\n Similar to John, Favour meets potential romantic partners on social media but where the two differ is that she takes it outside of just online interactions. \u201dIf I\u2019m into someone, if the person is queer like me and we like each other, we get together and it ends wherever it ends,\u201d she explains.<\/p>\n Lesbian relationships don\u2019t come without their caveats. The biggest issue that Favour faces is the lack of commitment.\u00a0\u201dMost lesbians don\u2019t see it as a real relationship as opposed to a normal boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. They mostly think it\u2019s about sex,\u201d she says.\u00a0<\/p>\n For queer people that have difficulty finding partners and a community, queer parties are the alternative to explore. But it is also not an entirely safe place to meet queer people.<\/p>\n See Also<\/p>\n \u201cSome people are just there to bait others,\u201d Favour says. \u201cThey call it kito. They pretend to be queer, organizing queer parties, offering jobs for queer people only for queer people to show up and get beaten and harassed. Maybe even raped.\u201d Kito is just one of the many prejudices that plague LGBTQIA people in Nigeria. These violent acts are propelled and supported by a large number of the population. In most cases, they often go unpunished due to the Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition act.<\/p>\n The\u00a0Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act or SSMPA<\/a>, passed into law in 2014, places a ban on same-sex unions. It prohibits cohabitation of same-sex partners, displays of public affection between same-sex partners and bars LGBTQIA organisations and clubs. Offenders risk a jail time of 14 years. The legislation also stipulates 10-year imprisonment for queer supporters and human rights activists that speak against the law.<\/p>\n![\"Nakawa](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/africa\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/N-magistrates-court.jpg\")
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