Partnering for the Health and Wellbeing Young People
Practical session during the ‘Data Made Simple’ Training-of-Trainers Capacity Building Session for SWAG Initiative One of the global goals that Shades of Us has adopted is Goal 17: Partnership for the Goals. The place of partnership in accelerating growth and development in all sectors of society cannot be overemphasized. Increasingly, we are seeing that no individual, government, organization or community can facilitate the kind of development they need all by themselves. It is therefore on us to create avenues for partnership where we can work together to solve our problems in line with global visions. With this in mind, we worked with Stand With A Girl Initiative (SWAG Initiative) on two of their projects: the Girl Advocate for Gender Equality (GAGE) and the ‘Data Made Simple for Adolescent and Youth Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights’ projects. The former, implemented by Stand With A Girl Initiative and Strong Enough Girls’ Empowerment Initiative (SEGEI), aims to equip adolescent girls with information, skills and resources to be advocates for gender equality. And with the Data Made Simple project, well…the name explains its goal. The project is funded by the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) and supported by the Johns Hopkins University Center for Communication Programs through its Knowledge SUCCESS (Strengthening Use, Capacity, Collaboration, Exchange, Synthesis, and Sharing) program. Through the GAGE project, we built the capacity of representatives of media organizations on ‘Gender Equality Reportage’ on July 22, 2021. The media is key to formulating (or reinforcing) many gender norms and the vision with this capacity building session was to take gender considerations into account, compensate for gender-based inequalities, and catalyze gender transformative approaches or strategies that can be applied in program design, production and transmission, and monitoring and evaluation. For us, this opportunity was an avenue to work on another global goal that is key to our work at Shades of Us: Gender Equality. Areas of focus during the session included: gender definitions and misconceptions; gender norms and social expectations; equality versus equity; gender bias in media reportage; gender-based violence; and concepts for addressing gender inequalities. Virtual session on ‘Gender Equality Reportage’ for the GAGE Project One interesting question that came up during this session was why gender equality conversations almost always focused on issues affecting women and girls. We explained that traditionally, women have been the most disenfranchised in our society and the media was one of many reasons why. To buttress this point, we asked if, when seeking ‘experts’ on topical issues in politics, the economy, national development or even sports, they would pick women. Many of these personnel began to see their bias in defaulting to men for these conversations. The idea of women as ‘experts’ rarely came to mind…except when the conversation was a “women’s topic”. We also looked at the framing of headlines and how they can serve to blame victims rather than perpetrators of sexual and gender-based violence. This session had such passionate response and you could tell it was an issue that bugged many of the personnel who attended the session. For the ‘Data Made Simple’ capacity building session, the focus was on improving the capacities of members of the SWAG Initiative team in what we call a training-of-trainers session. This happened on August 4, 2021, at the SWAG Initiative office in Abuja. Our presentation was on ‘Data Visualization for Storytelling’ and participants learned about data formats, qualities of data design, font styles, color schemes, branding guidelines and the use of tools like Canva and Giphy for the creation of simple data products. ‘Data Made Simple’ Training-of-Trainers Capacity Building Session for SWAG Initiative As a follow on to these trainings, SWAG will monitor the media organizations and their reportage, noting if they follow through on their commitments to improve their coverage of issues affecting women and girls. This would – hopefully – be easy to track as these organizations promised to use the Girl Advocate for Gender Equality hashtag – #GAGE2021 – in their reports, news, programs and more. On our part, we will be looking out for, and sharing these news stories with the hashtag. With the ‘Data Made Simple’ project, Shades of Us is committed to designing some simple data products in the coming weeks for SWAG Initiative’s interaction with 5 State governments on some of the issues affecting adolescents and young people in the States. We look forward to how the media and State governments can improve the lives of young people using these information that we have shared. And as always, we are open to partnering with other organizations that work in the areas of development that are tied directly to our work.
Patching Things Up
Fixing Potholes.Credit: City of Ekurhuleni When I moved to my current neighborhood, one of the things that convinced me to take the house was the road. Oh! The road was bad but I saw that the potholes were being filled up with sand so I assumed the roads would be repaired in time. I should never have assumed that. You see, as the days went by and nothing more was done to fix the roads, I knew I had roped myself into something terrible. Then the rains came. The air became fresher and cleaner, and I was glad to be surrounded by my favorite scent: petrichor. But all of that didn’t matter when I stepped out of my house after the rains had abated and found that the top layer of the soil had been completely washed away. The revealed roads were an eyesore, with tributaries where the water tried to follow the path of least resistance and potholes that began to widen even further as more rains came. Walking on these roads became tasking; driving, an extreme sport. Cars groaned under the pressure, but there was an even bigger problem for road users. As the holes became bigger, the traffic situation around my neighborhood began to increase. Rush hour became hellish as people spent more time getting out of our neighborhood than they did on the express going into whatever part of town they wanted to go to. Flared tempers became commonplace and when someone acted a fool by refusing to stay on the line, things became even worse. One night when I was returning home from work, I saw the holes were being filled and guffawed in excitement. My elation was so great that as soon as I got to the front of my house, I quickly sent out a Tweet to celebrate the government for trying to solve this particular problem. People who lived in my neighborhood told me to tame my excitement. I thought they were being a wet blanket. I assumed – yet again – that the potholes being filled meant the roads were on their way to being repaired. In a way, it wasn’t a far fetched assumption because some roads were being worked on. I imagined my neighborhood becoming one with such good roads that commute became much easier and quicker. So I continued to celebrate the government for what I perceived was the start of something new. I would soon come crashing from my excitement because, when the holes were filled, the repairers disappeared. Turns out that was all the work they were pegged to do. Again, in spite of how many times the government had disappointed me, I still held some hope for the repair of the road. Full rainy season came and as expected, the water washed away the filling. Then the repairers returned. After the potholes had been filled, they were gone again. I watched this cycle happen at least five more times in less than a year before I stopped being optimistic and saw the scam for what it was. The government took us fi idiats and I was the biggest clown of the lot. A bigger problem was emerging though. Each time the potholes went through this cycle, they became bigger…or more appropriately, wider. It took me back to a conversation I had with my colleague. ‘Do you have masking tape so I can cover these spots that are opening up?’ I asked as I walked into his office with my Macbook and iPhone chargers. The iPhone charger was already wrapped with masking tape but I noticed I needed more. The MacBook charger had just opened up that day. ‘I can give you the masking tape to wrap it up but in my experience, it is the wrong thing to do. Wrapping your charger in the hopes of preventing further openings works to achieve that exact thing you are running away from. What happens is that, the spot around the masking tape weakens, breaking the protective covering around the wire and exposing even more of it. And because you will be tempted to wrap the newly exposed parts, you perpetuate the continued destruction of the charger. I will suggest you use it like that until you can get a new charger.’ This was exactly what was happening with our roads. The quick fixes were not the solutions the government thought they were. If anything, patching things up made the situation much worse than it used to be. This is not to say that when done right, patching cannot be effective. In fact, patching (in the real sense of the word) is fixing the problem. But in Nigeria, this is not how we translate things; unfortunately. We don’t take the time to analyze the faults or even send construction teams to the site. If these are done, the government would at least be given expert opinions on what needs to be done. No. What they do is get a couple of unemployed youth in the neighborhood to fill these potholes with sand, clay or debris from construction sites – with all the dangers those pose. (It is why I have picked up nails a couples of times when driving.) And when citizens try to help, they are sometimes set upon by agents of the government who either insist it is the government’s job to fix things or ask that citizens pretend the repairs were done by the government. In all, just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, they continued to. I wondered when this would sink into the mind of the local government chairperson who is tasked with these repairs until I realized the deliberateness of this very response. The idea that citizens deserve the best from the government is not something that occurs to many people in power. This attitude can be seen in many other aspects of governance. It is then not surprising that there is a gradual erosion of the social contract between
Addressing Workplace Harassment
Photo by August de Richelieu from Pexels For some reason, the thought of a colleague I used to have came into my head. And it was followed by such immense disgust that I had to take long, deep breaths to calm myself. He – of course it was a man – was the definition of classless. I want to call him ‘dumb dumb’ but I am learning to be nicer to people. So, I will settle with Mr. X. Mr. X believed that he could say whatever he wanted to me and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand where he got the nerve from. He annoyed me to no end and while it is sad, I was a bit glad when he was laid off. Okay. I know…you need context. Let me explain why he revulsed me so. I had started what was a really great opportunity to work and grow and I was excited to be able to contribute to areas of the global goals that tied directly to my personal mantra and life plans. Since I was new, I focused on learning the ropes of this new career path and navigating the office interaction and boundaries. For the most part, I was polite but relatively aloof in my engagement with many of my colleagues. With this background, you can imagine my demeanor when Mr. X came to my office to chit chat. I was cool as I answered his questions until he brought up a sexual innuendo. I can’t even remember what it was but my eyes bulged, ready to eviscerate him on the spot where he stood. But… I paused. Could he actually have said what I thought he said? Maybe I was reading meaning to things that just weren’t there. His statement could have been harmless for all I knew. So, I tittered and went back to my computer, hoping he would take it as the cue to leave me alone. He didn’t. Mr. X. continued to make suggestive statements that confirmed that my first instinct was right. At this point, I could feel the steam rising and I knew I was going to blowout. Thankfully, another colleague came in and the conversation changed, prompting him to leave my office. In my head, I thanked whatever God he worshipped. Mr. X. had saved himself from the caustic end of my tongue and I had saved myself from revealing that beneath my calm exterior, there was a volcano that didn’t need that kind of trigger. I had forgotten about Mr. X. for a while until we attended an event together. At lunch, another colleague came to me and raucously mentioned how I had gained weight. I laughed about it as I walked away from him. He continued to follow me, making remarks about my weight and laughing cluelessly. Mr. X. decided to join in the conversation. So, there I was, with two men following me as I picked food I wanted to eat, commenting on my weight and laughing. My tight smile did nothing for them. Neither did my silence. But by God, I was ready to explode when Mr. X. mentioned how the fat was going ‘into all the right places’. I stopped. What. The. Bloody. Hell?! I knew I was going to explode but again, I was at lunch with a bunch of colleagues, guests we were hosting and other development partners and stakeholders. So…I walked away. But I swore to myself that the next time Mr. X. tried me, I was going to check him faster than he could spell his own name. And because harassers would always stay true to character, it wasn’t long before an opportunity presented itself to me. Few weeks later, we had a human resource training where I shared my thoughts about badgering people to marry or give birth. I expressed why I thought it was harassment and why the practice should not be allowed. As the day wore on, sexual harassment was touched on and the human resource manager mentioned why it was important to call out sexual harassment without being contentious. Now, she wasn’t saying we should let it slide. She said we should firmly call it out for what it was without resorting to raised voices, physical altercations or worse. Her point was that, some people may not know that they were sexually harassing another person and the first option should always be to correct…except of course if the situation was dire. It was a learning session for me because my first instinct is always to fight. But in the workplace, fighting is not the way to go, especially if there is a possibility that the situation can be misconstrued. No sooner had we left the training center than Mr. X. followed me to my office. He said the way I spoke was ‘like one of those feminists’. I laughed and assured him that I was a feminist. He began to throw questions he thought would trip me and I kept responding with, ‘Oh! That is what they do? I didn’t know that.’ Though my responses were sarcastic, each question served to rile me up. Just when I wanted to mention an excuse to get him out of my office, he threw the grenade: ‘Is it true that feminists know exactly how to please a man? That they can give a man good sex?’ Santa. Maria! I knew I was within my rights to cuss him out and teach him a lesson he would never forget but I inhaled…and side stepped the bomb. I raised my head from my computer, looked him straight in his eyes, and said in as measured a tone as I could muster, ‘Mr. X. This is not an appropriate conversation for the workplace.’ You could tell that he was shocked, even though he tried to laugh it off. He continued to try
A Rookie’s Mistake
From the moment I finished my film directing course at the Royal Arts Academy in Lagos, Nigeria, I have been introducing myself as a filmmaker…along with the other titles I like to describe myself as. Yet, four years since I earned that certificate, I do not have any film — short or feature — to my name. Oh! It isn’t because I haven’t tried. I have tried, alright! But a series of rookie mistakes have made me a filmmaker in name only. My first foray into film making started in 2016, just after I finished my directing course. A couple of friends and I wrote a script, recruited some of our actor friends, put some money together, secured a series of locations and…began preparing to shoot our short film. On the day before we were schedule to shoot, we slept at one of the locations, so we could be up on time and begin shooting. We factored that if we were fast, we would be done before noon and we could go to the next location and continue filming. What we didn’t factor in was that, with one camera, and all the shots we needed to take, there was no way we could be fast. So, we trudged on. But nerves began to be frayed from going over the scenes again and again. I began to snipe at my friends the more frustrated I became. I could see that everyone started to walk on eggshells around me. The situation got tense, but filming continued. Behind-the-Scene Photos from the first film, Buff. At around 3pm or so, we were through with location one. We then had to transport ourselves from Ajah to Surulere to shoot the rest of the scenes. Thankfully, Lagos traffic was mild, and we got to Surulere in less than two hours. Setting up the location became another hassle. This location was an office that had the personal effects of the owner and we needed to make it something different. By around 6pm however, we were ready to start filming. The cast was fantastic, and we didn’t need to do that many takes. And if I am being honest, I didn’t have the energy for many takes. I was tired, stressed the hell out and needed the entire process to just come to an end. And end it did! When we finally called the wrap on shooting, we gave a collective guffaw of joy and hugged each other. I had been forgiven for being a diva director and we were all back being chummy buddies. Then, we had to reset the location and head home. After all of this, we were so tired, we decided to just head home. Here is where things got funny. When we finished recording in the first location, the raw footage was ‘dumped’ on my laptop to ensure we had space for subsequent shooting. Because we had been so tired at the end of the shoot, we didn’t ‘dump’ the new footage on my computer. My friend who served as cameraman/cinematographer took the rest of the footage with him. The sound guy took the entire sound recording with him. We planned to pick a day where we would sit down and edit our project. A week later, I had an emergency that required I left Lagos sooner than I expected. Turns out I would not return to Lagos again except for very brief meetings. So, editing the film was shelved. We thought it was best to edit together so we could pick out our favorite scenes. But how could we do that when half the footage with me in Yola, Adamawa State, and then Kaduna State, and then Abuja and the other half was in Lagos? My life took a hard turn at that point. I was no longer thinking of film making. I just wanted to survive. Then by the end of 2016, I got a job which I was to resume at, at the beginning of January 2017. I would go on to work there for a year and a half. That period was so fast paced that I barely had any time for myself. I didn’t have breaks and I was way too stressed to even write any script or think of filming. By the middle of 2018 when I left the job, I began to itch for my life behind the camera. I called my friends in Lagos to see if we could meet up and edit our short film, and maybe, finally put it out. That was when I realized we had a bigger problem: all our audio was lost. While we could use the audio from the camera, there was no chance in hell the sound would be clean. I mean, filming in Nigeria means a lot of ambient sound like the noise of the generators you will need because power supply is epileptic. Editing the film was going to be tougher than we planned. Again, we shelved the movie. I went into a depression for a couple of months after that. Or more appropriately, I was crashing from being depressed for months, if not years, before that time. This crash had me wondering if I could ever get anything right in my life. And the seeming failure of the short film — in spite of all my efforts — made me feel like I was bound to fail at any project I touched. It is important to note that I was out of a job at this point too and being the over-thinker that I am, I was really spiralling. Then I got another job. This one was really good and though fast-paced, let me balance my work and life. I was able to compartmentalize work and personal time. And because of that, I again began to think of the films I could make…the stories I could tell. By the end of 2018, I was resolute: I was going to shoot at least four short
The 30th Chapter
I am 30 years old today! Whoot whoot! For the first time in a long, long time, I decided I was going to celebrate my birthday. Honestly, the last two years took its toll on me emotionally, financially and physically! Whewww! So, yes! I am in a celebratory mood this year. To give a glimpse into my mind and why this chapter is different, let us go down memory lane to the last couple of months in 2016. It was a really bad time for me. A misunderstanding with my mum began the start of an estranged relationship that lasted into 2018. Growing up, I learned not to speak back to adults; even when I felt they were wrong. It used to hurt me so bad when adults would do something that offended me and I couldn’t do or say anything because you know…adults. So while many people saw me as the girl who said her mind (usually in a shout), with older people, I was a girl who kept quiet. So when my mother and I were having a conversation and I felt something she said was wrong, I snapped. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t talk back to her. I just got up and left. And the silence began. You know how you keep saying you would fix things and pride keeps telling you to wait and then waiting become days and days become weeks and weeks become years? Well, our ‘fight’ lasted for nearly two years until something happened to force us into the same room. I will get to that soon. Also in 2016, I made a decision to walk away from the relationship with the people I considered my best friends at that time. A little context is necessary. My friends and I had been friends for nearly 15 years at that point. Well…15 with one and 10 with the other. We were peas in a pod. I loved those girls like I loved myself and I knew I could do just about anything for them. In fact, I considered them my sisters. Even though I didn’t keep in touch often, I hoped they knew that I was always there for them. A couple of events which happened from late 2014 to the time in question made me feel like our relationship was one sided. And at that time, I handled my anger and hurt by internalizing the problem. So rather than call anyone I have a problem with and have a proper conversation expressing my angst, I would begin to pull away from them. I would let silence become a chasm between us until coming back becomes almost impossible. And you know what happens in that time? All the offences become even more glaring; things that would normally not offend me begin to have double meanings; and worst all, the hurt and pain I feel rises to a crescendo that bursts at the top of it, leaving me quite unreasonable at the end. When I got to this point, I wrote a long note telling my friends I was done with the friendship and I wished them the best in life. Then I waited. Today, I can admit that I hoped they would try to fight for me. I can admit that I hoped I was wrong and they would set me aright and tell me how it was all in my head and they loved me as much as I loved them. But none of that happened. Instead, they really got into how I was a ‘horrible’ person and how they also had things they wanted to get off their chests. I was shocked! By the time the conversation was over and the friendship severed, I was left shaking. I was so hurt that for the first time, my first reaction to a problem was not anger; it was raw, unadulterated pain. I remember crying so much that day. You know how they say losing a friend is so much worse than losing a lover? Well, I had definitive proof of that. And even though I had felt great sadness before, I fell into a state of paralysis that was the start of what became a deep depression. But I will get into that in a bit. When my job search wasn’t yielding anything good in 2016, I became very antsy. I am my work and when I do not have work, I genuinely lose my mind. I already had a lot going on and what would have been my solace – burying myself in work – was no longer available to me. Oh! I had my blog and what not but I didn’t have a source of income, which meant that I needed to depend on people for my daily needs. Look! The worst feeling I can ever have is being dependent on anyone. It literally feels like my skin is being pulled out little by little with hot tweezers. I hate being broke and worse than that, I hated having to ask anyone for money for things like sanitary pads; which were about the only things I asked for when push came to shove. If jobs weren’t readily available, I knew I had to re-strategize. So I applied for an internship in different development organizations. I knew many organizations did not pay their interns well (if they paid them at all) but I was fine. If whatever I got could handle my transportation and feeding allowance, I would be fine. What was more important to me was that I learned structural advocacy so I could take my activism to a point where I could begin to get grants to execute projects. Towards the end of 2016, one of my applications came through and I was invited for an interview in Abuja. A week or so after that interview, I was told I had passed and I was to start in the new year. I was excited! It was a
Turning 28…and Not Repeating My Mistakes
Our founder wrote this to commemorate her birthday and from all of us at SHADES OF US, we want to wish her a wonderful birthday today. Happy Birthday Ramat! And it is here. On this day in 1989, a soon-to-be stubborn and pretty determined queen (read highly opinionated and motivated Zena-the-warrior-princess-like-woman) was born. She grew up to have three personalities, plenty baggage, lots of fire and achievements and a whole long list of things she plans to do until she is 75. But today, this oddly weird woman – AKA all three personalities of mine – is 28 today! Ramat, Remimah and Ada are older today! Whoot whoot. Let’s party and drink…and party and dance…and party…and party…and party. (PS: I am really not doing all that). On a serious note though, I never look forward to celebrating my birthdays and now more than ever, I am not in a celebratory mood. I am more of the celebrate-your-achievements kind of person. What I do is acknowledge that my new year starts on this day and honor my Creator for another year added to my life. This year, I am quite jaded turning 28. The last year took its toll on me and my spirit and I have become a little more subdued. I started 2016 with so much enthusiasm and optimism. While this wasn’t far from my character, I wanted to be quite different in 2016. I made plans to go to school, start a video log and podcast in expanding my platform, get a better job and generally turn my straits around. I believed I could do a whole lot if I only put my mind to it and gave it all I got. Did it work? Well, let me start from the bad parts. I knew I had to leave my old job because I needed to grow. Knowing this, I prepared for my exit by sending out applications to many media firm across the country. I sent hundreds of applications and crossed my fingers in anticipation. Soon enough, the invitations for interview started rolling in. I felt things changed for me when a company (whom I will not name because I will blast their grandmother in this post) reached out me up for an interview. Let me call them ‘Company A’. They were supposed to be a new media firm trying to set up in Nigeria and they needed on-air-personalities. The key players were Nigerian-Americans who were returning home to start a pan-African station to create content Nigeria and the United States of Trump; sorry, America. The founder was going to be in the country for one day to look at prospective employees and I was invited. On the date in question, I could not travel to Lagos so we did the interview over skype. I was grilled and to my credit, I was able to answer most of the questions to the best of my ability. When the interview was over, I was optimistic that I would get the job. A few more follow-up questions happened over the week via social media and finally, I got a letter of appointment. The letter shocked the socks off me. I was offered a position FAR BIGGER than the one I applied for with a salary that was a whopping 1500% increase on what I was earning in Yola! Yeah! I AM NOT EXAGGERATING THE FIGURE. You should have seen me dance! After reading the six page letter for a second time, the number of ‘Santa Maria’s I said should have been enough to bring back Mary from the dead (no offence dear Catholics). I was excited, revved up and thankful to God that my years of ‘chopping Kwakwa’ in Yola finally paid off. There was one catch though; work was to properly resume on June 5, 2016. That should have been my first clue that something was off about the company. But when you REALLY WANT something, you can be blinded by all reason. So I went to film school and kept applying for other jobs. The thing is, I got EVERY job I was interviewed for with the exception of Bellanaija (where I got something better than a job but that is a story for another day). Why didn’t I take the jobs as I waited for June 5? I felt their pay was ‘paltry’ in comparison to what ‘Company A’ had offered me. So here I was with a couple of employment letters that made me feel like my interview game was strong. I felt that my only option was to reject them. Though I was rejecting job offers, I kept sending out applications. Then May came and I rounded up film school. I returned to Yola to get my stuff and prepare for my new job. What a huge mistake that was. June came and I didn’t hear anything. I sent mails and didn’t get responses until the end of June. When I got the mail, I was told the Company was having ‘Licensing Issues’ and as soon as they worked it out, I will be in the know. I must admit that I was a bit naïve and didn’t see anything wrong; even though my friend told me they could have been a fake (read 419) company. I felt my friend didn’t know what she was talking about since I had vetoed the company online before taking the interview. Soon June became July and July became August. By this time, the number of openings in the media sector had dwindled which translated to fewer applications and even fewer invitations for interview. I started getting depressed. It was the 8thmonth of the year and I had not earned a salary since February. I am not business savvy so it meant that I had been dependent on family for ALL my needs; which was the first time in three years that that had happened. I hated depending on ANYONE and worse, I hated that feeling of
