“They made me feel like I mattered”: Inside an online counselling service for LGBTQ+ Nigerians

TW: This story contains references to suicide. 

Image description: A colourful lighthouse standing in a stormy sea, with beams of light transforming into supportive hands reaching out to drowning queer community members.

As a 12-year-old altar boy in his local Catholic parish in Abuja, Nigeria, Chiboy Sidney recognised the ‘discomfort’ his effeminate nature caused others. 

One Sunday, during mass, a visiting seminarian citing 1 Corinthians 6:9, a verse on sexual immorality and homosexuality, prohibited Sidney from serving mass and accused him of trying to seduce the priests.

Despite this, Sidney says his experiences in Abuja, where he grew up, were generally more accepting, but things took a harsh turn when he gained admission to the University of Nigeria Nsukka (UNN). The university proved to be a hostile environment, where people openly disapproved of Sidney’s effeminate nature. Public slander and derogatory comments became a regular occurrence.

“In Abuja, I could go out without any incident of hostility, but in the east, it was something I was always getting,” Sidney, now 26 years old, shares. 

Not only did Sidney face challenges from fellow students, but he also encountered lecturers who proposed sex for grades and urged him to “man up,” with a lecturer attempting to sexually assault him.

It was around this time that his gay best friend, Eugene, attempted suicide due to the rejection and conversion therapy he endured from his family. For Sidney who is also queer, this traumatic event ignited his passion for advocacy.

“We had spoken at length over the phone a night before and as usual, Eugene complained about how things were hard for him since his coming out to his family and his forceful eviction from the house.”

The next morning, Eugene attempted suicide but was lucky to have been found by a friend who contacted Sidney, the last number Eugene had called.

“His struggle in the hospital and the fear of death was like an awakening call to me, telling me I had a part to play, a voice and a will which I could use to listen and reach out to all others in similar situations struggling through life,” Sidney tells Minority Africa.  

In 2020, Sidney, along with two friends, founded Lumino Therapeutic Agency to provide online counselling and therapeutic services for the queer community, collaborating with organisations like The Initiative for Equal Rights (TIERs) to equally address cases of physical assaults on LGBTQ+ individuals.

“The whole idea behind the name is for members of the queer community to shine until their relevance is felt,” Sidney says. ”By taking up spaces and by performing functions dutifully, that’s how you as a queer person can actually shine.” 

For Sidney, the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown in Nigeria compelled him to hasten the launch and operationalisation of Lumino. He noted that he might have been stuck planning for a big launch instead of actually doing it if not for the lockdown.                           

“A whole lot of queer people are not comfortable in their homes because they are constantly misunderstood, so they take every opportunity to leave the house either through school or work, but the lockdown forced them to be locked down with their unaccommodating families,” he says. “There was a need to create a safe and enabling space where they can be expressive and get help.”

Backed by the Nigerian same-sex marriage act, the discrimination and intimidation against members of the LGBTQ+ community continues to pile up. In August 2023, the Nigeria Police Force detained over 60 people “celebrating a gay wedding” in Delta State, while the Nigeria Security and Civil Defense Corps (NSCDC) in October 2023 arrested 76 young people in Gombe state over charges of “holding homosexual birthdays” and “a same-sex marriage.” In 2022, a bill was introduced in the national assembly to ban cross-dressing. 

Sidney and other members of Lumino post flyers across social media platforms, advertising free private online counselling and therapeutic services. Interested individuals are provided with an online form where they have to indicate if they want a one-on-one session with a counsellor or a group counselling session.

“A couple of people actually prefer group sessions simply because they are speaking to more than one person who understands what they are going through,” Sidney explains. ”Some people feel comfortable doing that so long as the people they are speaking to are bound by the principle of confidentiality.” 

Those who chose the group sessions are added to the WhatsApp platform, where social workers and psychologists conduct counselling sessions. Most group sessions last for three weeks or more, after which follow-up sessions are done through private chats. The social workers and psychologists are permanent members of the WhatsApp group. 

“So far, the Lumino Therapeutic Agency’s WhatsApp group has counselled and helped 18 people,” Sidney says. 

“I have had a handful of sessions with queer people, and I will say the outcome has been very impressive,” says Stephanie, a social worker, and counsellor at Lumino. “I have been able to help my clients find ways to cope with their harsh realities.”

See Also

Eswatini’s LGBTQ community is “mounting and waving their flags”

The only challenge Stephanie faces working at Lumino is that some of her clients are reluctant to talk to her because she is heterosexual. 

“As a heterosexual lady, they sometimes feel that no matter how they present their problems, a part of me will not understand,” Stephanie says. “At a certain time, one asked that he talk to a queer therapist who, by experience, will relate to his ordeal.”

Sidney says that aside from the number of people who have received counselling and therapeutic services, the agency has also organised a couple of hangouts and seminars for the queer community, including an initiative to enable members of the community to achieve financial stability.

Jennifer, a final-year student at the University of Nigeria, says she sought out Lumino in January 2022 after she had a mental and psychological breakdown.

“The impact has been tremendous. In a time when I was desperately in need, they came in and made me feel like I mattered,” Jennifer says. “My life has been wholesome; the hangout organised by them was my first exposure to people who felt like me. I was able to share and feel.” 

Nonetheless, running a queer community support organisation is not hitch free.

“Just like being queer is a challenge, that’s how running a queer organisation is a challenge because, at some point, people tend to misunderstand you,” Sidney says. “Sometimes, when I post flyers about our programs, I get feedback from people commenting that we are encouraging bad habits, indoctrinating the young ones and making them feel comfortable in their abnormalities.” 

Beyond his work at Lumino, Sidney also uses his social media accounts to challenge archaic views and promote LGBTQ+ rights, especially within his local Catholic parish, where he serves as a choirmaster. 

“Most queer people at some point in their lives have suffered depression, anxiety, hurt and pain. Sidney says. “No matter how strong some of us may be, these things get to us at some point.”

He adds, “When we get to our private corner, we reminisce on these things and sometimes they break us.”