Every May 17, the world marks IDAHOBIT, the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Intersexism and Transphobia. But beyond the acronym is a fight that’s still ongoing, and a reminder that existing, loudly and freely, is still a radical act.
We sat down with 2 Nigerians who had a lot to say about what this day means to them. From whispered hate to loud love, here’s how they’re navigating truth, hope, and visibility in a world that often tells people to shrink.
What does IDAHOBIT mean to you?
It’s a day of truth, abeg. A reminder that love is not a threat, and identity is not a crime.
For me, it’s about showing up, visibly and unapologetically. It’s about justice, about holding space for those of us who exist in bold colours even when the world demands we stay grey.
Why do you think it’s important?
Because silence kills, slowly, and then all at once. Shame grows where people are told to stay quiet. And that shame? It destroys lives. IDAHOBIT is a voice for those who have been silenced, shunned, or scared. It says, “We see you. We’re fighting for you.”
How do you feel today?
Whew. It’s a weird mix. Hopeful, because more people are starting to get it. But also heavy, because too many still can’t be themselves without fear.
Still, in the middle of that, I feel proud. Proud of every person who dares to live their truth. Even when it’s dangerous. Especially when it’s dangerous.
Have you ever faced hate for who you are?
Of course. Sometimes it comes in jokes that aren’t funny. Or in rooms where people stop talking when I walk in. Sometimes it’s subtle, a look, a whisper, an “I was just joking” that’s actually cruel. But I’ve learned to love myself louder, and to fight for spaces that feel safe for others too.
What’s one thing you wish people understood better about marginalized folks?
That we’re not “other”. We’re not aliens.
We’re your siblings, your teachers, your tailors, your hairstylists, your therapists. We dream like you, bleed like you, hope like you.
We’re not the threat here. Hatred is. Ignorance is. Silence is.
What would you say to someone feeling alone today?
Please, hold on. You’re not broken. You’re not invisible.
There’s a world, even if it feels far, where people will see you, love you, and celebrate your light.
You matter. More than you know.
How do we support each other more?
Simple. Listen. Speak up. Choose empathy.
Create spaces where love isn’t policed, where people don’t have to fight to exist.
And remind each other: You’re allowed to take up space. Fully. Loudly. Beautifully.
What kind of world do you want for queer people?
A world where being queer or trans doesn’t have to be brave, it’s just normal.
Where joy is louder than fear. Where no one has to fight for rights they should already have.
Basically? A world where we all just belong.
Written By Oluwatobi and Victory Wekulom
