“They want you to say something negative”: Queer Nigerian journalists face systemic exclusion

By Minority Africa

Lagos, Nigeria (Minority Africa) — Vincent Desmond, a Nigerian writer, knows what exclusion feels like. As an openly queer journalist in Nigeria, he has seen doors shut before they ever opened.

“When it comes to Nigerian publications, I don’t bother pitching queer stories, most of them aren’t open to it and the ones who are would want you to say something negative about the queer identity, and that’s not my vibe,” he shares. “Because I’m openly queer, I kind of can’t get into a space that is not really accepting. There are traditional media houses that will not employ somebody like me.”

From bylines to headlines, queer Nigerians are routinely erased in mainstream media. Desmond made these remarks on Q-Convos, a podcast that strives to fill the narrative gap, but the absence of authentic queer storytelling in Nigerian mainstream media remains glaring. Queer lives are distorted, misrepresented, or ignored altogether.

In August 2024, the death of popular queer TikToker “Abuja Area Mama” gained social media traction. The 33-year-old crossdresser was found beaten to death on a highway. While international media framed the case as a human-rights violation and a reflection of Nigeria’s treatment of LGBTQIA+ people, mainstream outlets and blogs ran headlines like “Culpable homicide: Police reveal real name of popular crossdresser found dead on Abuja expressway,” offering no context or compassion.

Now in its second season, Q-Convos, produced by The Initiative for Equal Rights (TIERS), provides a platform for conversations on issues affecting marginalised communities

In Nigeria, homophobia is deeply entrenched, fuelled by culture, religion and law. In 2014, the then President, Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, signed into law the Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act (SSMPA), which criminalised queer existence and legitimised violence against LGBTQIA+ people.

This homophobia is amplified by the media through biased reporting, negative framing and the exclusion of reporters who have an interest in capturing the authentic queer experience. Mainstream Nigerian media outlets use inflammatory language that sensationalise and stir up fear against queer persons.

In 2024, blogs circulated a video captioned “LGBTQ members in Nigeria join [a] trending challenge,” which went viral, drawing public ire and the attention of the Nigerian police, who ordered the arrest of persons in the video.

Public humiliation with TV parades of suspected queer Nigerians, serves as a tool for the media to dehumanise the queer community. Headlines like “Hisbah storms Kano gay party, nabs 15” and misinformation—such as the news report falsely claiming the SAMOA Agreement included pro-LGBT clauses, which sparked national controversy—demonstrate how blogs exploit LGBTQIA+ issues in Nigeria as clickbait to mislead audiences, incite fear, and fuel hatred toward queer individuals.

Speaking on the issue, Lydia Ume, Communications and Engagement Lead, CHEVS, says, “This disinformation was published in the Daily Trust, a [major] newspaper, and I remember that there was a protest in Jos with people saying ‘we don’t want gay people in our country.’ Imagine the impact of something like that.”

According to Lydia, backlash from misleading stories like this spirals into something devastating and deadly.

“Around that time, you will notice that automatically there will be an increase in violence against both queer people and people assumed to be queer,” she says. “As someone who works in an organisation focused on advancing queer rights within West Africa, we had to deactivate some of our social media pages, make our accounts private, two of our staff were doxed, and we had to provide emergency funding to move people from their homes.”

According to Desmond, this is why platforms like Q-Convos matter. With topics like “Kito Experience in Nigeria” and “The Africanness of Queerness,” the podcast, which has two seasons, provides a platform for diverse voices to share their realities. “One of the most important things to me is accurate documentation of what is happening now,” he says, “and I think Q-Convos did a great job of capturing some of the modern issues plaguing Nigeria’s queer community, and I am just glad storytelling like this is happening right now.”

It is common for media houses to misrepresent queer realities, particularly because queer-rights journalists are excluded from editorial processes and rarely get their work published.

“Most of the challenges I have experienced have come from the Nigerian media houses,” Desmond explains. He’s published widely in international outlets, but locally, opportunities remain scarce. “First of all, there are Nigerian mainstream papers or media organisations that won’t publish stories on queer Nigerians if it isn’t condemning said queerness. They want pieces that decry queerness or frame it as a plague on society or a net negative. My writing isn’t interested in that, and that makes it that much harder for me to place my work in these media outlets.”

Hannah Bala*, a journalist who once worked at a Nigerian media house, confirms this. She says the media thrives on sensationalism, conflict, and crisis–and that criminalising queerness only exacerbates the problem.

“This selective coverage fuels a cycle where queerness is presented primarily as a site of struggle rather than as a lived reality filled with love, joy, and community,” she says. “And as we know, many media houses cater to a largely conservative audience and avoid positive representations for fear of backlash or government scrutiny.”

To her, the issue is systemic: “The sector is underfunded and risk-averse. Media organisations prioritise stories that generate clicks and engagement over nuanced, human-centered storytelling.”

Despite the important work being done by Q-Convos, Desmond believes there is still much work to be done in telling authentic queer stories. “I don’t think one project or even one genre of project is enough to rectify any damage done by mainstream media. I think that requires continuous effort from everyone, including the mainstream media itself, and then a lot of time.”

Lydia agrees. The first step? More ethical, responsible reporting.

“The media has a duty of care when reporting,” she says. “If someone is putting out something that is going to put people at risk, what then is the role of the editor?”

This story was first published on Minority Africa, produced with support from the Thomson Reuters Foundation,and appears with permission in this publication.

Byline: Shade Mary-Ann Olaoye

Published on: 17/04/2025 Edited/Reviewed by Samuel Banjoko Uzoma Ihejirika, PK Cross, Awom Kenneth and Caleb