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archytas's review
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
3.0
"*When I look at the community in other countries, yes, they have their difficulties. But here, I can’t even express how painful it is. I know at least ten people who are lesbian and bisexual but because they are married, they’re not safe. They can’t even be part of this project because they’re going to jeopardise their marriage. In this country we’re in, you’re either hated by your family or shamed by your community. You lose your job or you’re exploited or you’re raped*."
There are 25 oral histories in this compendium, covering queer Nigerian women. As homosexuality is criminalised in Nigeria, the voices are all anonymous. The cover Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba women, muslims, Christians and athiests, and they range from teenagers to women in their early 40s, both cis and trans. While locations are obscured, it is clear that they come from different parts of the country, and from a variety of cities and villages, and a couple of expats in USA and Europe.
It can be a slog to read at times, even spaced out. Some of this is because the oral history style tends to homogeneise the voices of the women. There are also some things that are very similar across the volume, especially the relative youth of the interviewees (most are under 30), which possibly leans towards a focus on dating life and the various dilemmas it brings with us.
It is worth persisting, however, because what emerges is both a remarkable view of a diverse country and the kinds of continuity you can only get through community. While these womens lives - ambitions, professions and degree of financial independence - varies a lot, as does the cultures they live within, their experiences with childhood sexual violence, discrimination, religious intervention and family rejection are often depressingly similar. Most of the women have some family who are supportive and some who are not, none had supportive churches or mosques. All felt the ripple of the criminal law through their lives as a renewed sense of anxiety from their loved ones towards them. But you also see the impacts of a community - there is also a preoccupation with monogamy, bisexuality (various strong views on whether bisexuals are good to date, including from several bisexual women), queer parenthood, gender roles in lesbian relationships. These topics emerge over and over (I became uncomfortably aware at a point, given the way the project rolled out, that some of the participants had almost certainly dated each other and probably played bit roles in each others narratives) in a way that indicates they are hot topics in the current dating scene.
I did miss the participation of older voices. Not only to dilute some of the dating drama, but also because many of these women were clearly uncertain of what a settled future might look like. It was hard to parse whether this was because of their life stage, or because the law has made visibile long-term relationships impossible. Several participants make reference to the worsening situation, noting that cultural norms for same-sex relationships existed in both Yoruba and Hausa cultures traditionally, but have been more recently demonised. One woman simply says "most people I know don’t really want to settle down because of the society. We already know that the society doesn’t allow it, so why fool yourself?"
There is no question, reading this, that the government and religious pressure in Nigeria is very difficult, making the situation there fairly dire. These women are vulnerable in all kinds of ways, that intersect with already high rates of domestic and sexual violence (corrective rape is also a theme). It is less the danger of being directly imprisoned for their sexuality as it is that in being queer these women lose recourse to the law if they are ripped off or assualted and the perpetrator can point to their sexuality. It is also a reminder that this isn't happening to a society without a queer community, and that community, even if a source of drama, is also a great strength. "*It feels good, knowing there are other women with you. It’s like a family, especially for some of us. I always have this picture on my BBM: Family is not all about blood, it’s about those who love you through thick and thin and can hold your hand even through fires.*"
There are 25 oral histories in this compendium, covering queer Nigerian women. As homosexuality is criminalised in Nigeria, the voices are all anonymous. The cover Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba women, muslims, Christians and athiests, and they range from teenagers to women in their early 40s, both cis and trans. While locations are obscured, it is clear that they come from different parts of the country, and from a variety of cities and villages, and a couple of expats in USA and Europe.
It can be a slog to read at times, even spaced out. Some of this is because the oral history style tends to homogeneise the voices of the women. There are also some things that are very similar across the volume, especially the relative youth of the interviewees (most are under 30), which possibly leans towards a focus on dating life and the various dilemmas it brings with us.
It is worth persisting, however, because what emerges is both a remarkable view of a diverse country and the kinds of continuity you can only get through community. While these womens lives - ambitions, professions and degree of financial independence - varies a lot, as does the cultures they live within, their experiences with childhood sexual violence, discrimination, religious intervention and family rejection are often depressingly similar. Most of the women have some family who are supportive and some who are not, none had supportive churches or mosques. All felt the ripple of the criminal law through their lives as a renewed sense of anxiety from their loved ones towards them. But you also see the impacts of a community - there is also a preoccupation with monogamy, bisexuality (various strong views on whether bisexuals are good to date, including from several bisexual women), queer parenthood, gender roles in lesbian relationships. These topics emerge over and over (I became uncomfortably aware at a point, given the way the project rolled out, that some of the participants had almost certainly dated each other and probably played bit roles in each others narratives) in a way that indicates they are hot topics in the current dating scene.
I did miss the participation of older voices. Not only to dilute some of the dating drama, but also because many of these women were clearly uncertain of what a settled future might look like. It was hard to parse whether this was because of their life stage, or because the law has made visibile long-term relationships impossible. Several participants make reference to the worsening situation, noting that cultural norms for same-sex relationships existed in both Yoruba and Hausa cultures traditionally, but have been more recently demonised. One woman simply says "most people I know don’t really want to settle down because of the society. We already know that the society doesn’t allow it, so why fool yourself?"
There is no question, reading this, that the government and religious pressure in Nigeria is very difficult, making the situation there fairly dire. These women are vulnerable in all kinds of ways, that intersect with already high rates of domestic and sexual violence (corrective rape is also a theme). It is less the danger of being directly imprisoned for their sexuality as it is that in being queer these women lose recourse to the law if they are ripped off or assualted and the perpetrator can point to their sexuality. It is also a reminder that this isn't happening to a society without a queer community, and that community, even if a source of drama, is also a great strength. "*It feels good, knowing there are other women with you. It’s like a family, especially for some of us. I always have this picture on my BBM: Family is not all about blood, it’s about those who love you through thick and thin and can hold your hand even through fires.*"
Content Warnings
Graphic: Infidelity
Moderate: Sexual assault, Transphobia, Homophobia, Rape, Child abuse, and Sexual violence
readingafrica's review
4.0
It was really eye opening to learn about the experiences of queer women in Nigeria. The writers were really brave to share these stories.
It was hard to get through some of the trauma in the stories. And some of them were inconsistent (which the writers highlighted in the beginning). It’s still a good read though.
It was hard to get through some of the trauma in the stories. And some of them were inconsistent (which the writers highlighted in the beginning). It’s still a good read though.
tirnom's review against another edition
5.0
An exceptionally insightful look into the life experiences of LGBTQ women in Nigeria, their obstacles, encounters with abuse, dreams, hopes and journey to self realization.
campbelle177's review
challenging
emotional
informative
slow-paced
The women included in this book tell a range of stories that include violence and homophobia, but also the joy of queer relationships and community. It’s clear the editors were intentional in their interviews to show the layers in each person’s story and to include as many different experiences as possible and to paint a clear picture of Nigeria’s queer women.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia, Sexual violence, Lesbophobia, Outing, Incest, and Domestic abuse
idara's review
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
3.5
This was a really tough and difficult read but definitely a necessary read. It was very interesting to learn about queer culture/how queerness operates in Nigeria for queer women with such a wide range of perspectives. I definitely believe that this book needed more editing for it to be a bit more cohesive but I also understand why the authors left it so rough, as they wanted to capture the true authentic experiences of these women. I appreciate how the book dispels some myths about queerness in Nigeria and also is a loud reminder that queer people have always existed and will continue to exist in Nigeria, no matter what our heteronormative society says.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Emotional abuse, Homophobia, Sexual harassment, Sexual violence, Toxic relationship, Lesbophobia, Rape, Sexual assault, Outing, Violence, Drug abuse, Self harm, and Physical abuse
queerlitloft's review
3.0
I struggled to finish this book but not due to it's content. These stories need telling in their whole entirety and the book in my view only half achieves this by getting these peoples voices heard in the first place. To be an enjoyable read it needed better editing. The style of writing made each story melt into the next one, it felt very much like a question and answer session without the questions being printed.
Whilst i can see what was trying to be achieved with this book i didn't enjoy it as much as was anticipated, it made for very difficult reading style wise.
Whilst i can see what was trying to be achieved with this book i didn't enjoy it as much as was anticipated, it made for very difficult reading style wise.
norynor's review
5.0
What an incredible anthology! Each narrator shared their story of growing up queer in Nigeria with so much heart, and the book includes such a wide range of experiences. Some people’s reviews criticized the style in which the stories were written, citing lack of editing, but I felt in this context that leaving the stories in a conversational style lended to how powerfully authentic and intimate it felt. Beautiful project, lifting up queer women’s voices in a country where they are often silenced.
thatothernigeriangirl's review
4.0
4 stars ✨
She Called Me Woman is a collection of interviews given by 25 individuals, Nigerians/ with Nigerian backgrounds, who identify as ‘queer’ and ‘woman’. Although I agree that this book is already gold just for being the first of its kind, I think its real beauty lies in its portrayal of queer individuals as just ‘individuals’ whose day-to-day struggles are amplified by their being ‘queer’.
Each interview evokes a series of emotions from me; usually sadness, empathy, smiles, and deep thoughts. There are a number of times that I found comments made by some narrators contradictory to my personal opinions- and these comments revolves around mindset rather than their sexuality- but after several rumination, I concluded that each individual is inherently shaped by their struggles and the rampant homophobia in Nigeria might have contributed to that.
For example, there was a narrator who wanted to have “mixed race kids” because she wanted her children to be “very fine”.
She Called Me Woman is a collection of interviews given by 25 individuals, Nigerians/ with Nigerian backgrounds, who identify as ‘queer’ and ‘woman’. Although I agree that this book is already gold just for being the first of its kind, I think its real beauty lies in its portrayal of queer individuals as just ‘individuals’ whose day-to-day struggles are amplified by their being ‘queer’.
Each interview evokes a series of emotions from me; usually sadness, empathy, smiles, and deep thoughts. There are a number of times that I found comments made by some narrators contradictory to my personal opinions- and these comments revolves around mindset rather than their sexuality- but after several rumination, I concluded that each individual is inherently shaped by their struggles and the rampant homophobia in Nigeria might have contributed to that.
For example, there was a narrator who wanted to have “mixed race kids” because she wanted her children to be “very fine”.