• Just like there are some jobs that have been unreasonably assigned to women just because they’re women, there are also some things that men are the automatic candidates for. Here are nine of those things people think are men’s jobs.

    1. Check out strange sounds in the house

    Once there’s a strange sound in the house, especially one that sounds dangerous, it’s the man’s name to be calling to come and check it. Did they tell you that I have extra life?

    2. Face armed robbers

    Once armed robbers enter the house, it’s you they’ll be pushing to the front to face them. Does my penis have kung fu pre-installed?

    3. Kill rats and snakes

    Someone finds a snake in the house, while everybody else is jumping on tables and couches, they’ll be shouting your name to come and kill it. Are you people okay? Kill what?

    4. Repair electrical faults

    Some electrical appliance blows and it’s throwing sparks and smoke. Everybody is shouting your name to come and see. See what? I’m good, thanks.

    Africa Is Running Away From Herself – Nyamilepedia

    5. Carry heavy things

    People remember your name when it’s time to carry a fridge, an AC, or the weight of Abuja people’s sins. My muscles are for Instagram, not for doing labour.

    6. Turn on/off the gen

    Because you’re the only man in the house people automatically think that the job of turning on the gen falls to you. Even when the gen is controlled by a key.

    7. Sleep without the blanket

    If you sleep in bed with your partner, they automatically assume that you don’t need to sleep with a blanket. They’ll set the AC at 16 degrees and proceed to gradually steal the whole blanket from you, leaving you to turn to a popsicle before morning. This life no balance.

    8. Not cry

    Whether you lost your loved one, had a bad day in the office or simply stubbed your small toe on furniture, it’s okay to cry. Don’t tight the world to your chest before you give yourself a stroke.

    African Man Crying In Bed At Night Stock Video - Download Video Clip Now -  iStock

    9. Use your entire salary for everyone except himself

    Black tax is real. The minute your salary hits your account, it’s already going to service everybody’s needs but yours. At the end of the day, you only have 5k (one ejikem) to manage for yourself.

    Are you a man who would like to be interviewed for a Zikoko article? Fill this form and we’ll be in your inbox quicker than you can say “Man Dem.”

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  • With just your romantic playlist, we can guess when you’re going to marry. Pick your favourite songs from the options.

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  • Every person who drifts into our orbit has some effect on us. Some small, some big. The most likely to leave huge impacts are the people we are in relationships with. I spoke with five men who told me heartwarming stories about how their partners have changed their lives.

    Feyi

    Before we started dating in 2019, I was nonchalant and carefree about a lot of things I should have taken seriously like school, planning and routine. I preferred to go with the flow instead of making long-term plans and this caused me a lot of anxiety. When I started dating her, she changed all of that. I’m more deliberate with my decisions and I’m taking my life more seriously. She has also taught me to be emotionally intelligent and better at properly articulating my feelings.

    She’s a writer and I’m trying to emulate that, even though I suck at it. She’s a lesson in resourcefulness. She always knows what she’s doing and has a handle on everything. I could go on and on but my life had been transformed for the better since I met her and I still have a whole lot to learn from her. I love her very much.

    Laide

    Before she came into my life, I used to be bad at managing money. I could hardly account for my money. When she came into my life, she made me account for every kobo. She taught me how to manage my money and avoid living lavishly. She’s also taught me to be patient and changed how my thought process about things. I’ve become more serious with my plans because she makes me accountable to them.

    Lekan


    My partner makes me feel less insane. My sense of humour is very silly and weird but my partner laughs at all my jokes and makes jokes at the same frequency. He makes it easier for me to exist, I think that’s the best way to explain it. We’re very different people in so many ways but very much the same in all the ways that matter. I love that I can vocalize all the things in my head, even the half-formed things and he helps me make them make sense. He goes out of his way to fulfil all my irrational Disney-esque desires in a relationship. I don’t think my life has changed per se, he just makes it easier for me to live in it, easier for me to exist in this skin and reality of mine without feeling stupid or uncomfortable.

    Yinka

    We’ve been together since I was in 300-level, 8 years ago. I used to be laid back, preferring to go with the flow rather than make plans. She made it clear that she had certain goals and aspirations and she wouldn’t compromise on them for anything, including me. I knew she was the person I wanted to be with, so I realised I’d have to make adjustments to my life. I became more serious with my academics and set life goals for myself.

    My worldview has also changed from when I used to hold archaic notions. She’s a feminist who made me think more intelligently about social issues and I’m a better man and partner for that. Yet, the biggest impact she has made is that she’s provided me with a reason to be better. I just want to be the best man and partner I can be for her. Also, she’s beautiful so being able to go out with her as her man does wonders for my self-esteem.

    Mark

    My babe has made me a more emotionally intelligent person. I used to place a lot of premium on being a logical person. I’ve learnt softness without feeling like I’m less of a man, and how to be a human being. I realised that sticking to logic makes me come off as cold and unfeeling. You can’t always be rational about life. 

    Read: How I Almost Lost My Testicles. Twice

    Are you a man who would like to be interviewed for a Zikoko article? Fill this form and we’ll be in your inbox quicker than you can say “Man Dem.”

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  • We’re collectively working as a society towards making the world more comfortable for people who aren’t conventionally attractive, by societies often unrealistic standards. More men are learning to love the bodies they are in. As part of the conversation to normalise body positivity, I spoke to six men about their bodies and what they felt insecure about and how they’re learning to embrace it.

    Abdul Azeez 

    My ass is quite soft. Imagine a soft bubble butt on a hairy greek statue. That’s me. One time, a girl playfully slapped my ass and she was instantly hooked. Another time, during sex, a woman held my ass while I was pummelling her and didn’t stop until the end. So I’m usually insecure about bringing attention to my ass. 

    Anthony, 30

    I’m not exactly insecure about it, but I’d like to reduce my belly. Not like I’m looking for six-packs, I just understand the health challenges that come with obesity. Other than that, I have accepted my status as a grizzly-chubby-cuddly-fluffy bear! Sometimes, it gives people an upcoming-sugar-daddy vibe. Other times, it means I can’t readily go topless.

    TTA, 23

    I feel insecure about my chest and arms. I’m six feet tall and thin, so I always feel a need to “buff up.” It makes me very uncomfortable exposing my chest in public.

    It makes me feel weak and people tend to call me lazy when I avoid lifting heavy stuff, for example. I’m strong. I just don’t have the biceps to show for it.  I’m trying to accept my body but it’s still a struggle for me.

    Feyi, 26

    I didn’t think I was insecure about anything until recently. A girl I was with wanted to eat my ass but I just couldn’t let myself do it. I had never felt so insecure before. I immediately understood why some women were reluctant to sit on people’s faces.

    Michael, 27

    When I was 18, I was quite fit as I worked out regularly. I started to decline academically and depression set in. I lost all motivation to do anything. Now, I’m struggling with belly fat and gynecomastia (sometimes referred to as “man boobs”). I stopped wearing tight clothes because they became uncomfortable. I’m stuck with wearing big shirts and polo shirts.

    I first noticed my hairline receding when I was 24 and there was nothing I could do about it. My hair used to make me feel good. I went from carrying a mohawk to carrying inconspicuous hairstyles. People suggest I wear face caps or skin my head but I think trying to hide it just make people focus on it.

    Rotimi, 29

    My stomach is slightly big and I’m pear-shaped. Even when I tried working out, I was just getting muscular but the belly didn’t reduce. I’d like to wear more revealing stuff but I’ve given up on that. When I have a date I’m going to be naked at, I start to bother about it. I let them know before they come that they shouldn’t expect me to have a six-pack. I’ve resorted to being a sugar daddy-type.

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  • What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.


    This week’s Man Like is Ifeoluwa Adeyoonu, a 28-year-old barber. He talks about his difficult relationship with his father, how he faced resistance when he wanted to start his salon, and how his business gets in the way of his romantic life.

    Tell us something interesting about yourself.

    I decided to open a barbing salon after I graduated from Obafemi Awolowo University. I graduated with a third class, so I didn’t have many job prospects available to me.

    At an interview I managed to secure, the recruiter told me, “Look, you’re obviously very bright and promising, but we can’t possibly hire someone with a third class.” That experience broke me. I was depressed for a long time, and I decided not to look for white-collar jobs anymore.

    What did you do next?

    After a few months from that moment, my mum asked me what my plan was. I decided I wanted to open a barbing salon. I had learned how to give haircuts when I was younger, so it felt natural to pick it up. I brushed up my skills. 

    My mum supported my decision, but my dad was somewhat reluctant. I think it’s because he resented me.

    Wow. How so?

    My dad impregnated my mum during his NYSC service year, and he was forced to marry her. I don’t think that was how he saw his life going. I was born shortly after, and he named me “Ifeoluwa” — the will of God.  I believe he saw me as the person who ruined his plans. Though I was a “model” child — got good grades in school and pretty much kept to myself — he’d favour my younger siblings and treat me like an afterthought.

    He also wanted me to become a lawyer. When I got admitted into OAU, I was assigned to study English instead. To him, I had fallen off the pedestal he put me on, and he was sure to let me know. He’d always tell me how I’m a disappointment to him. Graduating with a poor grade was the final straw. He practically lost interest in me. 

    When I told him I wanted to start up a barbing salon, he did not like the idea at all. Eventually, my mum convinced him to help me look for a place to set up my salon. He found me a place on the opposite end of Ibadan from where we lived, in an area I had never even been to, perhaps to discourage me from following through with my plans. He wanted me to go back to school to study law. He still talks about it when he calls me.

    Did you accept the shop?

    Yes. I was spending more money than I was making, but I accepted the challenge because I wanted to prove to him that I was not a failure. Eventually, my parents raised some money that allowed me to get an apartment close to my salon. That’s when I realised I had become a man.

    Do you get along with your dad?

    He once chased me around the house with a cutlass after I stood up to him to protect my mum. That’s the kind of relationship we had.

    We’re distant, but since I moved out, he tries to stay in touch. He came to visit a few weeks ago to show me the new car he just bought. He even let me take it for a spin. Although he was against my career choice at first, I think he’s relieved that I’m a burden off his neck.

    Do you enjoy what you do?

    Absolutely. My salon is thriving. I wasn’t hoping for much when I started. I don’t think I’m such a great person, but I receive so much goodwill. When I announced the opening of my salon on Twitter, I got so many clients from all over Ibadan booking appointments. People in my neighbourhood always insist on having their hair cut by me. Once, I took the morning off to see a friend who had an emergency. I returned later that day to a lot of complaints about my absence. I can’t take a single day off my business. It’s why I don’t have a serious romantic relationship.

    What’s your romantic life like?

    Nonexistent.

    Why?

    Because of my business, I can’t go out on a lot of dates. Also, I mostly meet women online who are in other states and my business won’t allow me to travel to see them. I can’t leave my business because it’s growing. Running a salon is very tricky. If I close for a week, my clients might be left stranded and turn to a competing barber. Anything could happen to my shop before I return.

    Any plans for romance in your future??

    Yes. When I employ apprentices, I’ll be able to leave my store to go see my women. I don’t think that’s going to happen for another three years. 

    It’s not all bad. I have occasional flings, but I don’t have the time for a proper romantic relationship.

    What’s the most difficult thing about being a man?

    It’s the uncertainty of the future.

    Check back every Sunday by 12 pm for new stories in the Man Like series. If you’d like to be featured or you know anyone that would be perfect for this, kindly send an email.

    Are you a man who would like to be interviewed for a Zikoko article? Fill this form and we’ll be in your inbox quicker than you can say “Man Dem.”

  • Buying men’s jeans in Nigeria can be such a drag. Apart from dealing with the stress of going to the market, here are seven struggles men face when trying to buy jeans срочный займ онлайн на карту.

    1. The stress of knowing you have to go out to shop

    This is you in bed in the weeks leading to your shopping day.

    2. Market people dragging your trouser

    They’ll now be shouting inside your ear: “Eyys fine boy/yellow/orobo/lepa/chairman, I get your size for stock jeans, come my shop.” Oga please, there’s corona outside.

    3. Finding ripped and decorated jeans

    When all you want is plain, normal jeans. I want regular jeans, not this one that they’ve decorated with Christmas lights and is ripped from your crotch to your ankle.

    4. Running into bootcut jeans

    Is this 1978? Why am I seeing bootcut?

    Cut the Bootcut, Out of Style | Penmen Press

    5. Not finding your size

    You eventually find the jeans you can live with but you can’t find your size. Jeans come in every shape and size, except yours.

    6. If you’re tall, double wahala for you

    All the jeans that are your waist size is jumpin up your leg. You don’t even know if it’s trouser or three-quarter shorts.

    7. Then you realise you’ve bought fake

    When you wash the jeans and all the blue has entered the water. I hope you enjoy your white jeans.

    Maison Margiela Faded Five Pocket Jeans | Hervia
  • As told to Femi

    As men, our testicles are the mainstay of our reproductive system. Asides from sperm production and storage, they’re also responsible for producing a hormone called testosterone, which is responsible for our sex drive, fertility, and the development of muscle and bone mass. Needless to say, it’s quite important to ensure they remain safe and healthy. Tunde* reached out to me to tell me his excruciating experience with testicular torsion, which almost destroyed his testicles and his dreams of having biological children. Here’s what he had to say.


    Before 2014, I never thought I’d have any problems with my sexual organs. I was the average 20-year-old, focused on being young. Of course, that meant having a decent amount of sex. 

    It was a regular Thursday afternoon when I felt a sharp pain shoot from my testicles up to my abdomen. I didn’t think much of it until it happened again a few minutes later. This time, it was non-stop. It felt like someone had grabbed my balls and was twisting them violently. I rushed to the hospital with my dad and after four days of tests and excruciating pain, it was discovered that I had a condition called testicular torsion. It’s a condition that occurs when a testicle rotates and twists the spermatic cord that supplies the scrotum with blood. It is usually fixed by surgery but in some cases, the testicle would’ve been deprived of blood for so long that the only option would be to remove it.

    Cases like mine.

    The doctors told me that my testicle would have to be removed immediately. I didn’t even have time to process the fact that I was about to lose a testicle and might never have biological children. I was wheeled on a gurney into the operating ward and surgery preparation commenced all around me. As the nurses prepared solutions and took my vital readings and the attending doctor did surgery prep, I lay on the table wondering how this came to be. 

    My father had also suffered from testicular torsion. He had a testicle removed when he was 55 years old. I later discovered that most males who get testicular torsion have an inherited trait that allows the testicle to rotate freely inside the scrotum. This inherited condition often affects both testicles.

    A consultant doctor walked into the ward and examined me for a few minutes. When he finished, he spoke with the attending doctor for a bit before turning to me and saying, “We might not need to remove your testicle. We should be able to manage it with drugs and a proper diet.” 

    I was awash with relief. Losing my balls at 20 wasn’t a palatable option to me and I was glad that I’d be able to have kids of my own. I was discharged and placed on a drug regimen for six months. The pain remained but the drugs were helping.

    Things were going well again. I was back to my old self, doing the things I enjoyed. I had almost forgotten everything until 2017 when my dad and I went on vacation to South Africa. We were having a great time on holiday when a familiar pain hit me in my nether regions. The invisible hand twisting my testicles was back with a vengeance. I was rushed to a hospital in Cape Town and the doctors’ verdict was instantaneous — I had to lose my testicle.

    It felt like I was living the same nightmare on repeat. I was only 23, still unmarried, and without kids. How could this be happening to me again?

    But there was little time to think. The doctors were prepping me for surgery. My dad was beside me, devastated but knowing there was little he could do. It seemed certain that I would lose my testicles this time, in a foreign country, no less. I saw my dreams of having my own children disappear in a cloud of smoke before my eyes.

    The doctors were preparing to anaesthetize me when the head surgeon arrived. He examined me and asked me a litany of questions. Was I sexually active? Yes. Was I into any sexual fetishes? No. Did I have anal sex? No. Do I ejaculate when I had sex? Yes. Have I ever had a sexually transmitted disease? No. 

    After some deliberation with other doctors, the head surgeon decided that my case could be managed with physical therapy, along with drugs, and a diet change. I was overjoyed. I would have danced on the operating table if I could. They encouraged me to consume a balanced diet and to avoid unhealthy lifestyle practices like smoking and drinking in order to prevent a recurrence.

    After a few weeks of physical therapy in Cape Town, I returned home to Abuja. I found a hospital where I could continue my therapy and completely changed my diet. I avoided oily and processed foods, opting instead for fruits, vegetables and dairy. Occasionally, I still get painful flare-ups but they are easily manageable with medication. Now, my sex life is a lot more restricted. I only have sex once in a while to avoid having a reoccurrence of the scariest moments of my life. 

    Are you a man who would like to be interviewed for a Zikoko article? Fill this form and we’ll be in your inbox quicker than you can say “Man Dem.”

    Read: 6 Nigerian Men Share The Hardest Parts About Fatherhood

    rusbank.net

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  • You don’t really unlock sugar daddy levels until you’re in your forties and your account balance is looking attractive. But that doesn’t mean you can’t see the signs that you’re going to be a sugar daddy. Here are five ways to know you are going to become a sugar daddy.

    1. You’re starting to have grey hair in your beard

    sugar daddy beard

    Once small small grey hair is growing in your beard, just know your future as an original sugar daddy. You get bonus points if you start having it on your head.

    2. Women call you daddy

    You sly fox. Of course you’re going to be a glucose guardian. It just remains for the sugar to be complete.

    Chris Brown dotes over daughter Royalty at Billboard Music Awards | Daily  Mail Online

    3. You have more trad in your wardrobe than a village chief

    Trad is the official sugar daddy attire. Sugar daddy wey dey wear polo is not a serious one.

    Latest Native Styles For Fabulous Men 2021-See 500 Designs

    4. You’re the person the bouncers hail when you’re entering the club

    330 Black Bouncer Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty-Free Images - iStock

    You walk into the club with your guys but it’s only you the bouncer greeted with extra vigor. They smell the money and glucose in your future.

    5. You have a potbelly

    This is the ultimate sign of your glucose guardianship. Once you unlock this level, you’re definitely going to become a sugar daddy.

    sugar daddy potbelly

    6. You like spending money on people

    If you’re generous with money on the men/women you’re dating, you’ve graduated from College of Glucose Guardianship.

    Read this next: 4 Nigerian Men Tell Us What It Is Like Being A Sugar Daddy

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  • What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.

    Check back every Sunday by 12 pm for new stories in the Man Like series. If you’d like to be featured or you know anyone that would be perfect for this, kindly send an email.

    Today’s Man Like is Rotimi Alabi, a 29-year old Afro-Asian fusion chef. He talks about his mother’s influence on his decision to become a chef, how his father’s absence helped him define masculinity on his own terms and how sibling favouritism drove him to independence.

    rotimi alabi

    What was growing up like?

    My dad was mostly absent because he had another family, and we didn’t get to see much of him. My mom raised my sister and me, for the most part. My sister and I looked alike, but we couldn’t be more different. She’s more of a “Naija” babe while I mostly consume foreign content. She’s not very adventurous with food, but I love trying new foods. 

    .

    What was growing up with your mum like?

    Due to my father’s absence, I have a very strong bond with my mum. She’d come back from work all tired and still go through my homework with me. She also made me interested in reading books.

    Our bond meant that my mum talked to me a lot. She confided in me about everything. She told me stuff about her life experiences that a seven-year-old had no business knowing. Though she didn’t mean any harm, this meant that I matured too quickly because she burdened me with issues that I was too young for. It made my childhood really short because it made me start to think differently too early.  

    Did you feel the absence of your father?

    Not really. He wasn’t exactly absent; he just spent more time with his other family. His presence came with a tense atmosphere. He was a dictator, so my sister and I were really afraid of him. As kids, when we heard his car at the gate, we’d run to our rooms and pretend to be asleep. We avoided him most of the time but when he was in a good mood, he was fun to be around. Because I was close to my mum and two of my cousins lived with us, I didn’t miss him much.

    Were you dependent on your mum?

    No. I read something recently about how over-independence is a trauma response, and I think that’s what’s up with me because I’m incredibly independent. When I was a kid, I’d ask my mum for things I wanted — a new toy or some gadget I wanted. More often than not, I got “no” for an answer. Conversely, when my sister asked for the same things, she’d get them instantly. Every time I brought it up, they’d say, “You know she’s a girl. We have to make sure she gets everything she wants so she’s not enticed by a predator.” While I understand that sentiment, it didn’t change that I felt cheated all the time. These experiences made me draw into myself, and I became a recluse as a teenager.

    At 17, I entered UNILAG to study botany, and for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of freedom. This, however, came with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I realised that if I wanted to call the shots, I had to be ready for the consequences of my actions.

    So, botany…

    LMAO. That, I did not plan. Another thing I didn’t plan was to become a cook/chef. I  was with my mum in the kitchen a lot. I’d watch her meal prep meticulously and cook meals. I’d steal a slice of tomato or a chunk of dried fish. Sometimes, she’d scold me, other times, we’d laugh about it. These experiences made me realise that I really enjoyed being in the kitchen. I was eight when I cooked for the first time. I tried to cook fried rice. My God, what a disaster that was — the rice was too soft, there was too much curry, everything was wrong. I thought I’d never cook again. But I continued to observe my mother while she did.  

    I also had an aunt who liked to cook new dishes. I’d go to her house on Sundays to watch her cook and ask questions. Then I watched a lot of cooking shows and studied cookbooks religiously. I was obsessed with cooking and just couldn’t stop trying to learn more.

    Before I was 10, I knew the three things that were the core passions in my life — cooking, fashion and media. I later worked in fashion, but I found out quickly that it is a brutal industry. I was betrayed by people, and some still owe me for jobs. I’d much rather not work in fashion unless I’m doing so on my own terms. I also worked in media for a while. But of the three, I’ve found that I feel the most fulfilled when I’m cooking. I love it when I create dishes and people love it. Watching someone getting wowed by something I cooked is intensely gratifying. No matter how tired I am,  I’m always in the mood to cook because I know that whatever I’m making is going to make someone happy. Perhaps, it appeals to the eight-year-old in me.

    When did you decide you wanted to become a chef?

    I didn’t think I was going to make cooking my profession because I thought it would take the joy away. One day, a friend of mine, Lade, tasted my food and she pushed me to start cooking commercially. Whenever she had an office event, she’d ask me to make meals and pay me for them. In 2018, she recommended me to a co-worker for a party they were planing. It went really well, and so I thought, “Maybe I could do this for a living.”

    How do people react when they find out you cook?

    I think the most common one is where people say, “Oh, you’re a chef? Come and dash me food.” No, I won’t. Other people hear that I’m a chef and ask me if I can really cook or if I’m just a poser. But I don’t have anything to prove to them. If they want me to prove anything to them, they should order my food.

    LMAO. Would you say your career defines your identity?

    No. When I became a chef, my identity was already solid. I knew who I was. Being a chef is just an extra facet of my personality. I’m simply a guy who can cook, not the guy who cooks. There’s a lot more to me than my profession.

    Interesting. What kind of person are you in relationships?

    I tend to put the other person first, even ahead of myself. I’m the kind of person that carries people on my head, especially in friendships. It all ties into my idea of what it means to be a man.

    What does being a man mean to you?

    To be a man means to be dependable emotionally, mentally, financially and physically. When I got into uni was the first time I realised I was a man. It means to be responsible and above all, have sense. Don’t be unfortunate. 

    What’s something you splurge money on shamelessly?

    Perfumes. I currently have 32 perfumes in my collection. My best friend must not catch me saying this, but I can spend my last dime on perfumes. I also like spending money on my friends.

    I’d like to be your friend.

    LMAO. Maybe one day. 

    I’ll take that as a yes.

    LMAO.

    Check back every Sunday by 12 pm for new stories in the Man Like series. If you’d like to be featured or you know anyone that would be perfect for this, kindly send an email.

    Are you a man who would like to be interviewed for a Zikoko article? Fill this form and we’ll be in your inbox quicker than you can say “Man Dem.”

  • For men suffering from depression, there’s no end to the things it steals from them. Joy, time and fulfilment are only a few. In addition to this, it also takes away your ability to build and enjoy meaningful relationships. I spoke to six men about how depression affects their relationships.

    Caleb

    With my friends, there’s some sort of wall. It’s hard, I won’t lie. I’m always second-guessing a lot of things and I can’t be confident in my own happiness.

    With romantic relationships, I just refuse to let myself commit. I refuse to let any progress happen because I’m scared that something will go off and I’ll sink back into depression. So I play it safe. The thing is, you need to be vulnerable with your partner in order to build a strong relationship, but how do you get vulnerable enough to explain that you’re depressed. There’s no guarantee that they’ll understand you enough to process it. So when I’m unable to tell them, it’s like I’m around people who don’t really see me.

    Samuel

    When I’m depressed, I tend to withdraw from my partners because I assume that I’m being annoying or I’m ruining their mood. I’ve had romantic partners who would shut me out whenever I was depressed. More often than not, they would try to lift my spirits with sex. Of course, when I’m depressed, I’m in no mood for sex because I don’t even love myself.

    My current partner is understanding. She lets me know that she is available to talk if I need to but also tried her best to give me space because she knows I can be quite withdrawn when I’m having depressive episodes.

    Richard

    I resisted getting help for depression for a long time because I didn’t realize I was depressed. It took me a long time to recognize the difference between regular unhappiness/discontent and depression. I knew I wasn’t happy, but I ascribed my emotional state to my circumstances – and I convinced myself I’ll be happy as soon as XYZ happens – new job, new girlfriend, etc. Finding things (or people) to numb the pain or distract your mind is pretty easy, but it doesn’t really fix the problem, it just makes it bearable for a while.

    Depression ruins relationships. It can make you withdraw or lose interest, or try to push your partner away, without really knowing why. I’ve done it. With great effort and lots of pain, I’ve pushed away girls who I loved deeply because I felt wrong inside and I couldn’t feel what I knew I should feel. I could think about feelings, but I’d become so conditioned to guarding and repressing my “soft” feelings (like love) that I couldn’t open up and express them.

    Nathan

    My friends and partners try to be understanding, but eventually, it begins to wear them out. They eventually start to keep their distance. Sometimes, they even blame you because they think you’re not trying to get better. I smile and try to keep my issues away from them but it really wears me out.

    Abdul

    It feels like I don’t belong anywhere. Connecting with family is really hard and building relationships with women I like is even more difficult. I talk to them for a few days and I just get tired. It’s hard to socialise with people and going out is really difficult.

    Tobi

    The fear of losing people makes me lose people. It’s weird. My friends who used to be there for me have distanced themselves. We hardly talk anymore. I’d tell some of them that I need some space so I don’t ruin our relationship and they go on guilt-trip me for being too uptight and selfish. I don’t want to make new friends because I’m afraid I’m just going to withdraw from them again and I’ll get hurt.

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