When I think of groundbreaking African television dramas on sexual health, the MTV Shuga series tops the list. It was my first introduction to shame-free sex education that prioritised people who look like me.
In an episode of MTV Shuga Naija featuring actress Jemima Osunde and co-star Olumide Oworu, Osunde’s character said something which has stuck in my memory. She said, “Why is there so much shame? Why is it that when I want to buy condoms I get asked Miss or Mrs?”.
I think of that scene each time I hear on the news of young girls dying from failed abortions. I think of it each time I encounter women who are afraid to go to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test strips and condoms.
Even more, I think of it when I see women believe that always having painful sex is a rite of passage into womanhood not knowing that they have sexual disorders like vaginismus.
That scene comes into my mind when sexually active young women are reluctant to see the gynaecologists for missed periods or painful periods because they are afraid that they shall be shamed.
This is even when what they may have are diseases like PCOS and endometriosis.
Slut shaming is the shaming of women and girls for being sexual and for owning our sexualities. It is often always intended to silence only women and to rub shame for participating in a consensual act.
Even women who are not sexually active still bear the brunt of a society that sees sex and pleasure as the domain of men and something that women must wait until marriage to experience.
It is because of slut shaming that avoidable health instances like the above-mentioned occur because young girls are afraid of being shamed by health workers, many of whom embody the belief that sexually active girls are “wayward” and that sex stains women.
To further understand how slut shaming affects the carriage of women as it concerns our health and bodily autonomy, I spoke to four women.
The first woman, Nkiruka*, a wig vendor and student said that she has experienced difficulties in hospitals when trying to test for period disorders like PCOS which she was diagnosed with in 2017.
In her words: “When I went to a pharmacy close to my hostel to buy a recommended drug called Primolut, the elderly woman there behaved like she couldn’t hear me and attended to other people even though I had come before them.
After attending to them and keeping me waiting, she turned to me and said she wanted to advise me as ‘her child’; she said that in this life we are supposed to behave like children of God. She went on to grill me about what I needed it for even though it was a prescribed drug for PCOS. It was then I realised that Primolut also works as a contraceptive”.
Nkiruka went on to say she was assumed pregnant when she went to run scans for PCOS. She also said when she went to test for HIV, during what was to be the counselling, the healthcare worker told her to ask God for forgiveness and spoke to her in a demeaning tone.
Because of these experiences, she ended by saying that she has developed a distrust for hospitals and she is now reluctant to go see medical personnel.
It seems buying needed products in pharmacies is not a problem peculiar to Nkiruka.
Speaking with Precious, a writer and editor, she said to me: “I’ve always been ashamed of walking into any pharmacy to buy a pack of condoms.
My head tells me two things could happen. 1: It’s either they’re selling it to me with disgust in their eyes. 2: Someone (Probably if it’s an elderly woman there) seizes the opportunity to lecture me about abstinence.”
She went on to say: “One of my friends says she prefers buying Postinor in a town where no one knows her. Which means she only buys when she’s in a different town and keeps it in advance.”
Slut shaming doesn’t always take the form of health workers. In fact, they can start from family members and it is important to mention this as it seeps into the way outer members of society view women’s bodies.
This has been the case of Isabella, a writer and developer who told me: “I was once checking out myself in the mirror and an unfortunate aunt of mine said if I do it for too long I’ll become a slut. Whenever I check the mirror I remember that stupid talk but with positive reinforcements, I’ve been able to overcome it.
It was a stupid thing to say to a child to be very honest.”
Contrary to popular opinion, although it is a woman’s choice to be sex free if she wants, not being sexually active will not protect her from the shame extended towards even sexually active women.
This is particularly evident in the stories of women seeking medical help for issues that are not tied to sex.
If women do not feel bold enough to walk into hospitals and pharmacies to enquire about reproductive care and illnesses, we would continually have women dying from avoidable deaths.
Deaths caused by slut shaming which kills and kill women in particular literally.
*Name changed to protect identity.
Angel Nduka-Nwosu is a writer, journalist and editor. She moonlights occasionally as a podcaster on As Angel Was Sayin’. Catch her on all socials @asangelwassayin.
