Vaginismus- When Pleasure Hurts*

I first published this piece in Metropole Magazine

He [is] on top of me… And then he is thrusting in. It hurts, it hurts so much. It’s almost like I am being torn apart from the inside. I look into his face… those sweet eyes that start to look at me with worry. “Am I hurting you?” he asks. His voice is full of honest concern…

From movies to books to music videos, it is hard to escape it. Two people.  A connection- anything from instinctive attraction to money. Clothes coming off. Intense physical pleasure, two persons ravishing each other lost in their passions, their bodies taking over, speaking pleasant things to each other. For the most part, and for many people, this is true. But for women like Mary, whose words open this article, the exact opposite is the case.

“In my last relationship I first hoped that it wouldn't hurt again. But it did. Then each time I thought: "It will hurt. You have to relax. It's gonna hurt anyway. So how can I pretend to my partner that everything is fine? I don’t want him to become anxious too."”

The subject is one that causes Mary visible discomfort. It is easier for her to write out her pain than say it. So she writes, about a condition that has affected every relationship she has had, for years.

The website vaginismus.com describes vaginismus as “vaginal tightness causing discomfort, burning, pain, penetration problems, or complete inability to have intercourse.”

Vaginismus is characterized by involuntary spasms of the pubococcygeus (PC) muscle- the lower pelvic muscle around the vagina- which contracts tightly making penetration of the vagina selectively or completely impossible or extremely painful. (The PC muscle is the same muscle used when trying to suppress the flow of urine). For some women, this makes things even as routine as using tampons or doing medical examinations like pap smears extremely painful or even impossible.  How acute these spasms or reflexes are varies from woman to woman. For some diagnosed with the condition like Mary however, all but penile penetration is possible. In simple terms, everything is fine until a penis is involved in penetration. With Mary, although she had had sex which started with “little pain that didn't last long”, in the last seven years at least, “the pain has been too much to get past.”

The reflexes which cause the closure or contraction of the vagina are similar to those which make us instinctively duck when an object which may not even be close enough to hit us, whizzes past, the sudden jerk when pricked by a sharp object, or the involuntary shutting of the eye when a foreign object comes close. That is our body’s way of protecting us from harm. 

According to the Mumbai based Malpani Infertility Clinic website, drmalpani.com, the causes of this condition range “from the physiological to the psychological”. Some of the known causes of vaginismus include strict religious upbringing making it hard to lose the association of sex with ‘sin’, insufficient or faulty sex education, the physical pain associated with losing virginity, physical trauma, witnessing or experiencing sexual or domestic abuse, the fear of not being completely healed following childbirth or other medical procedures, and urinary tract and other infections. Sometimes however, there is no known or identifiable cause. 

The prevalence of this condition in Nigeria is hard to tell, because as Dr. S, an experienced Abuja-based gynecologist agrees, many issues of sexual health remain unreported. The culture of silence regarding sex and sexual health, albeit varying according to culture or social class, makes it harder for women living with this condition to seek professional help or even in some cases discuss it with their partners. She finds that couples in the “middle to upper classes” are more likely to seek sexual health treatment together.

Dr. S further explains that in her experience, this occurs a lot with young virgin brides or post-operative patients who have had some work done around the vagina following childbirth or other procedures. She calls it a vicious cycle, explaining that when pain is anticipated by a woman during sexual intercourse, messages are sent to the brain which in turn triggers these conditioned reflexes and spasms which either close up the vagina completely or make intercourse extremely painful for the woman. The physical pain, once associated with intercourse, reinforces these reflexes, causing the whole cycle to happen again. 

“It's hard to relax when experience has taught you that the next thing that you will feel is likely to be pain,” writes Mary. 

Women with vaginismus may decide to avoid intercourse altogether, sometimes adversely affecting their relationship with any partner they may have. 

Most cases of this condition are fully treatable with things like therapy and muscle exercises like the Kegel exercise which help relax and control the PC muscles. It is up to a patient however to seek professional help.

While this may be a condition affecting only women, male partners, especially husbands, need to be involved in at least some parts of the treatment process of vaginismus. 

For one thing, it is important for men to think beyond themselves and their own pleasures and be sensitive to the needs and comfort of their partners. Sometimes, just being observant and unselfish during sexual intercourse can reveal that a woman is experiencing pain, in spite of her desire to participate in that activity. The more partners learn about each other’s bodies, the easier it is to provide support when one partner is experiencing discomfort or pain during intercourse. Men can help by joining their partners during hospital consultation or even during treatment like exercises or therapy. 

In a publication by the UK’s National Health Service titled “Difficulties With Penetration or Painful Sex? For Women and Their Partners” it is advised that “it is important that you give your body time to react to sexual stimulation …, so that you don’t feel any discomfort during sexual experience.” It goes further to state that “it is also important that your sexual partners understand this, and that they respond to your feedback about how turned on you feel.” 

Male partners may also need to keep an open mind to things like lubricants. Mary found this a challenge with her partner who “refused to try lubricants, even though he knew the sex was painful”. Attempting to have sex without vaginal intercourse may help to ease things a bit for the woman and put her body in a better state to attempt penile penetration at a later time. 

The connection between sexual health and other aspects of a relationship is not very hard to see. Where there is silence about sexual frustrations, this triggers other frustrations which put a strain on relationships sometimes leading even to the total breakdown of a marriage. Especially in more conservative cultures, women may be discouraged from ‘seeking enjoyment from sex’ by the negative attitudes about sexual rights. If a man considers his wife a partner in a relationship instead of a subordinate or mere bearer of his children, it may be easier for him to assist her get over vaginismus. Mary for example thinks that instead of expecting a woman to get over it, a more helpful attitude might be trying to “get over it together”.

Although she has seen doctors, Mary still struggles with this condition. Because of the negative reaction she has sometimes gotten, Mary has wondered “whether to mention it at all” to prospective partners or “just endure it” quietly.  However, this has not done anything to dampen her enthusiasm for the latest treatment suggestion she has received which involves exercises. “It is promising,” she says. 

Perhaps the more open we are-- men especially-- with discussing sexual health, the less pressure there will be on women to just quietly endure the kind of treatable pain that vaginismus causes.

*Because of the personal and sensitive nature of the details in this piece, I have changed the names of those I interviewed.

LETTERS FROM OUR ANCESTORS

Because I Care #39

I am an environmentalist. I believe in conservation and all that National Geographic/Discovery channel business. Gas flaring, bush burning, deforestation all make my stomach churn. To the best of my knowledge I am the only presidential candidate who believes in these things. In fact only recently I announced my plan to become a vegetarian in the next few years, a plan that was recently set back by my discovery of the most amazing nkwobi and isi-ewu in Abakaliki. But God sees my heart. He knows I feel genuinely horrified when I see the brutality with which cat fish are murdered for point-and-kill. That is why I am very sad this week. General Olusegun Obasanjo sent an 18 page letter to Goodluck Jonathan. Not by email. He printed at least two copies of that letter: a file copy and an acknowledgement copy. That is 36 pages of white non-recycled paper. I shudder to think how many trees it cost the global tax payer for Obasanjo to communicate with his erstwhile political boy. I don’t mean to come between friends who go as far as Nairobi to share a breakfast. I am doing this for the environment. 

One thing Obasanjo’s letter revealed is that he desperately needs an editor. Reading those 18 pages I could see Obasanjo standing, arms akimbo behind a typist, dictating the letter and occasionally throwing a slap to correct a foolish typo. By not hiring an editor to reduce that letter to possibly three or four pages, Obasanjo put the trees of our planet at risk. He should know better. 

As someone who will soon be president, I am ashamed of Obasanjo’s letterhead. It looked like something he personally designed on Microsoft Word.  What will it take to print quality letterheads like mine? On the bright side however, I am happy that he at least learnt something at the National Open University. 

Every time I say that my political rivals are after me, people think I am joking. Obasanjo has revealed how Jonathan has placed 1000 persons on a political watch list. I am sure that is why it is hard for me to make phone calls these days. My name is on that list- I know it. My only hope is that they arranged that list in alphabetical order. I will hate to spend a lot of time searching for my name when I finally get hold of the list.

I am interested in Jonathan’s snipers though. I am interested in where Obasanjo claims they are being trained. We cannot afford to have badly trained snipers. Think of it, when they want to start sniping those of us on that watch list- imagine a badly trained sniper deforming people instead of taking clean shots. Honestly I would rather be shot clean in the heart or head than shot by mistake in the jaw or armpit. I am sure my fellow watch-listees will agree. 

Still on that 18page letter I just want to state categorically that no amount of money will make me drop my presidential ambition. I am not like Bola Tinubu who was, according to Obasanjo, “nocturnally brought to Abuja to strike a deal …at great price materially”. Although I like nocturnal movements and will go if the President invites me for a late drink, my conscience and candidacy are not for sale. 

I have been thinking of the Yoruba adage that Obasanjo used: “The man with whose head the coconut is broken may not live to savor its succulent fruit.” I am worried about its meaning and accuracy because when a coconut broken on a man head causes death, my thinking is that everyone will be too busy with mourning to think of any succulent fruit. Sometimes I just don’t get these adages.

A friend of my soon-to-be-predecessor called Jonathan the Mandela of our time. At first I was so upset I had a fever. But then I recovered and thought about it again. I will admit this about the man. Jonathan is our Mandela. How? Well just as Mandela on his return from prison and forgave bad people, oppressors, murderers, Jonathan also stays forgiving our corrupt people, those who have raped us and our country. He has a big heart. He just might make heaven. I need to learn this from him when I become president. 

I want to congratulate the Supreme Court for providing the last bucket of water for the total cleansing of Chief Bode George, who spent time in jail after being convicted for corruption. His being discharged and acquitted means that he will no longer be referred to as an ex-convict. He is now an Ex-ex-convict. God bless the Justices of the Supreme Court. Journalists please take note. 

I heard that Malam Nasiru El-rufai, after spending five years in an FCT High Court was acquitted of charges relating to land grabbing. Five whole years! That is why even as a lawyer, when someone offends me in Nigeria, I find it is more useful to just tell them ‘Allah ya isa’- to leave them in the hands of God. God knows how to deal with my enemies. Just look at what is happening to the PDP. 

I know that Barrack Obama and Michelle must have already made up, but as a soon-to-be world leader I must say something about the events surrounding the American first couple during Mandela’s funeral in South Africa. While Barrack Obama was acting like an excited 14 year old at a soccer game, laughing, taking selfies, and flirting with the annoyingly gorgeous Danish Prime Minister, Michelle Obama was thinking of the big picture. Like the smart woman that she is, it was clear to her that her man was putting the future of the free world in jeopardy. God bless Michelle. Before Barrack could plunge America into scandal, she saved the self acclaimed greatest nation on earth by switching seats like a mother would do in church when two kids are making noise during a service. Who knows what further steps Barrack would have taken after touching and laughing with Ms Gucci? Michelle knows her history. She knows that the last time an American president was trusted to take care of himself, his privates ended up in the mouth of an intern. Again God bless Michelle. 

Ps. Where is the report of the FCT Ministerial Committee on infanticide in more than 40 communities in the FCT? How many more children need to die?

THE ENGAGEMENT OF WIDOWS AND PUBLIC HEALTH

Because I Care #38

With gratitude to the gods for common sense and total submission to the outcry of Nigerian people, I am proud to announce that Widower Adams Oshiomole has made up with his go-and-die widow. I was pleased to read of her visit to the Edo State Government House at the invitation of Adams himself. I am glad that the comrade governor is finally giving in. Sometimes life just happens to us. His own words reinforce this: “Maybe this is the way God wants it. That is why I asked them to look for you so that I can personally offer my apology, but also to support you, so that God helping you, you can overcome the pain of widowhood.”

I am not sure how else Adams plans to help Mrs. Joy Ifijie “overcome the pain of widowhood”. Perhaps this is a reciprocal thing? I rub your widowhood, you rub my widowerhood? Only time will tell. All I can say is, looking at the picture of them having tea, they look good together. 

As president I will have to watch the Senate. There are sneaky fellows in those hallowed chambers. That is how they sneak private clauses into public bills. This week, it was revealed during a public hearing that in a bill for an act to “provide for the prohibition and punishment for electronic fraud and crime in all electronic transactions in Nigeria”, the following phrase was snuck in: "Anyone who intentionally propagates false information that could threaten the security of the country or that is capable of inciting the general public against the government through electronic message shall be guilty of an offense and upon conviction shall be sentenced to seven years imprisonment or N5 million (fine)."

I want to meet the Senator that tried to sneak in a provision to gag people on social media in a bill that was meant for electronic fraud? That is how when I am president I will sponsor a national health bill and a senator will sneak in a clause prescribing the death penalty for people with beer bellies. I can swear that being the only internet savvy presidential aspirant running in 2015, this was targeted at me. They see my progress and my growing popularity. They see how my political enemies are crumbling around me, first the PDP then the new PDP. I will not stop until I find that Senator who is the agent of my enemies. I am using this opportunity to prepare my supporters in the event that this odious provision gets passed into law and I am arrested for saying the truth about my soon-to-be-predecessor or his wife. You can’t trust these people.

Talking of predecessors, I hear that Mr Jonathan and his wife privately checked into a German hospital this week. He doesn’t take my calls. I would have confirmed if it was still that his chronic stomach ache from his birthday celebration last week or if it was something else. Like I said before, I like to fight fair. So I am willing to suspend all political campaigns until he has fully recovered. I mean even prisoners on death row are not hanged if they fall sick. It is only proper. To that end I am asking all my supporters to suspend spreading the goodness of my candidacy until we certify that the president is in good health. Please. 

Now, I will admit that the internal politics of my political rivals in the PDP is really none of my business. But sometimes I cannot help but wonder what is up with Bamanga Tukur and why he has Jonathan by the scrotum. Bamanga should be on a farm somewhere enjoying visits from his grandchildren and great grandchildren. After I defeat Jonathan I will tell him that Bamanga was a huge political liability. I would have told him now, but like I said, the man doesn’t take my calls. It happens sometimes between presidential aspirants. You know, just like Obama and Hillary who almost tore themselves apart during the primaries but enjoyed a great working relationship after. I hope Jonathan is big enough to be my friend when I win. 

The British government recently tried to sneak an asylum seeking hunger striker into Nigeria on a private jet. They spent not less than 25million naira to hire the plane. I don’t understand Britain. A long term result of under-developing Africa is that people will naturally migrate to the more developed areas. In fact in protest of Britain’s colonial past, as soon as I become president, I will get on a private jet, without applying for a visa and head to London. When they ask me at the border if I have a visa, I will ask them if they came with visas when they came to colonize us. 

Ps. Madiba died this week. Mr Mandela moved from being human to being a phenomenon. Not many men have been as idolized while they were still living. Not many men will be as idolized, period. Sadly even leaders who hold their citizens in political and economic apartheid have joined the race to give the best Mandela eulogy. Madiba is watching them.

Ps. 2 I just want to commiserate with Dele Momodu who wrote that his “dream [of meeting Mandela] finally evaporated on December 5, 2013.” However I also must congratulate him. He somehow managed to squeeze into his article that the news of Madiba’s death crept into his Blackberry “before the news broke out”. Giant strides I say, oga Momodu. Giant strides!

WATCHING THE ENEMY FALL

Because I Care #37

I tell you, dear people of God, patience always pays in the end. After fretting about being attacked by the enemy, a certain King in Jewish history was told by the God of the Jews that he would not need to fight a certain battle. All he needed to do was stand still, be patient and see the deliverance of God.  

This week has been one of the most eventful weeks of my political campaign. I did not have to do anything but stand still at look upon my political deliverance. The camp of my enemies was again struck with confusion. As if the splitting of the PDP was not enough, the breakaway PDP faction formally applied to join the All Progressives Congress (APC). This emergency marriage was not without its problems. 

First only five of the seven rebel governors joined the APC. Governor Aliyu of Niger State, formerly one of the most vocal of the rebel lot, snuck away before the end of the merger meeting, agreeing to be bound by the decision of the rebels. Mr. Baraje the rebel leader himself said this. Governor Aliyu however, through one of his men, expressed shock over the announcement of the merger and swore that he was still in the PDP. He did not even say he was still a member of the new PDP. I have never liked that man. You can tell a dodgy man by looking at his eyes. I will keep watching until my enemies have finished each other and my hustle takes me to Aso Rock, come 2015. 

I am not sure why Mr Asari Dokubo was arrested in his adopted homeland, Benin Republic. Worse, I do not know why his lawyer Mr. Festus Keyamo was begging my soon-to-be predecessor, Goodluck Jonathan to intervene and use ‘all diplomatic means’ to secure the release of Asari. When I become president, Mr. Dokubo will have to decide which country he wants to belong to. What Asari is doing is tantamount to a boy reporting his mother to his father. He chose Benin Republic. On second thoughts, I realize the gyms in Abuja are better than the ones in Benin Republic.

I watched Mr. Adams Oshiomole’s sanitation video many times this week. He was caught on tape telling a street trader who claimed to be a widow to ‘go and die’ as she pleaded for her things not to be confiscated. Looking closely at Adams’ face I can only draw one conclusion. Mr Oshiomole is a widower and this is the reason he was upset. The woman put him on the spot by claiming she was a widow. She came dangerously close to flirting with the comrade governor on camera. She was in effect saying, you are a widower, I am a widow, what’s wrong if you showed me some love. I understand how this in the face of many cameras can be overwhelming and drive a man to say a thing like go and die. He was simply asking her to kill the emotions she had within her, capable of causing the good governor to fall into post-widowhood fornication. And I know Adams. He is a child of the living God. 

I read this week that as many as 240,000 bottles of beer have been publicly destroyed in the state of Kano. This destruction was done using an earthmover. I respect the right of Kano State to destroy substances which by Kano law are illegal, but I just think of how much joy 240,000 bottles would have brought to non-Kano persons. As president I would advise the Kano Government to transfer these bottles to states where this substance is legal. They could even start a beer-for-food program. 

Ps. I spent the whole of this week in Abakaliki. All I can say is that Ebonyi State has set me back several steps in my quest to lose weight before the 2015 elections. The amazing cooks are agents of my village enemies. From nkwobi to egusi to vegetable soup to palm wine, all hopes of a flat tummy were repeatedly dashed. I went from 100kg to 103kg. that is a few kilograms away from a medical emergency. But the people are oh, so warm. I can manage a slightly protruding tummy.

FIRE

He doesn’t know he does it. That slight quiver in his smile. The little wink in his eyes. Through the glasses. He cannot see. That each time he calls you get palpitations. Fire in your bones. He must not know. For then he would see the struggle, not to keep talking when you meet him, not to hold his hand. You want to tell him, while he drinks and laughs away, while you pretend that the same things are making you laugh, that there is this heat in your stomach turning the cold drinks into hot coal, scalding you, because you cannot bring yourself to say it- you cannot tell this married colleague of yours that he is all you dream of. You will probably give him a heart attack; he will not see it coming. 

He stares at you as you turn in your seat. ‘This seat is a little uncomfortable,’ you say adjusting the chair, turning away from his gaze before he asks if you are ok. When it gets too much- when you can no longer bear looking at this tint of brown in his eyes- you get up and go to the bathroom. You think as you pee, that if he sees it in your dark brown eyes, if he asks what the matter is or if you are ok, you will say no. You are not ok. You cannot be ok when he cannot see that you cannot breathe around him.

You go back to your seat. He doesn’t notice. He starts instead to talk about bush bars in Abuja.  About whether it is correct to call them bush bars or gardens and why he thinks it is rude for expatriates to use the term ‘bush bar’. 

‘How can they call what normally should be a park a bush bar? How is this place a bush bar?’

He points at the plastic seats, the concrete building behind you and the stage where several amateur artists perform. You are distracted, staring past him to the dense blackness beyond the bright lights, idly trailing your left hand along the sweating bottle of Snapp. 

Tonight he does not offer to drop you off at home. There are three others who depend on him for a ride home. He takes you to Berger junction instead, where you can get a cab to Lugbe. 

‘Goodnight Mary,’ they all echo as you get down from the front seat of his cold Mercedes. Your mind separates the different voices like you would separate the different instruments while listening to an orchestra. You hear his, coarse, but low, separate from all the others.

There are two vehicles going to Lugbe. A red Abuja Urban Mass Transit bus and a Golf car.

You start drafting the message as soon as you slam the door- the last passenger behind the green Golf that will take you to Lugbe. The text that you know will cause a ripple. You edit obsessively until you arrive at something simple but effective: “I am thinking about you Solo.” 

You roll your thumb over the Send button. That is when she starts. The woman with the wiry hair on her chin.

‘Brodas and Sistas, I greet you in da most holy name of da living Jeeeezuz Chrais.’

You search your bag for your headphones. They aren’t there. If you hadn’t gone too far you would have dropped and taken the Mass Transit bus where you remember seeing the sticker: ‘No Hawking. No Begging. No Preaching.’ 

‘Are you a lady that has come to Abuja and is doing Abuja marriage? Living with a man in sin? Fornicating and bringing da wrath of da Almighty upon your soul? Or are you drinking from stolen waters sleeping with a man that has a family? Fear da everlasting fire that burns with sulphur, whish no man can quensh…’

Although you are irritated by this, you cannot stop the process that has been activated. Visions of eternal fire. You grit your teeth, look at the text and start to delete the words. 

You type a fresh text that reads, ‘Thanks for the ride.’ You press send and try to think of something, anything but fire.

ABUJA: 8 Articles of Faith

1.

A good car is the first article of faith. The sooner you realize this the faster you will make it into Abuja heaven. Stickers help prove this point. One needs to identify which agent of the living god has blessed one’s hustle and what the slogan of that agent is this year. You are what you drive. This became clear to you when you still had Silvanus- the old red Audi with a gay German soul. Even those whose faith was so little that they had no cars discriminated against you when there was more than one car offering a lift. It is clearer now that Silvanus is dead and gone. You miss Silvanus. 

2.

Affected speech is a virtue. Even when you are speaking to your secondary school classmate from Federal Government Girls College Bakori. The closer you are to a proper British or American accent the more intently people will listen and nod. Your argument will not need to have any nuance or logic. You can mix both accents, using the British accent for most words and the American for words like God, Lord, and Word. For guidance pay attention to the anointed on-air prophets of this gospel on Abuja radio. 

Ps. When you meet a white person, it is important to switch to a more affected form of your British, American or mixed accents. Even if the white person is Hungarian and can barely speak English. 

3.

Jesus performed a miracle where, from two loaves of bread and five fishes, he fed 5,000 people. Jesus also said his followers would perform miracles greater than he did. He was referring to civil servants in Abuja who, on salaries of less than 150,000 a month can afford to buy houses, pay exorbitant school fees for many children, drive expensive cars, maintain lovers and even occasionally go on vacation abroad. You really should read the Bible more often. 

4.

They say Toronto Mayor Rob Ford uses crack cocaine and alcohol. He admits to smoking crack only once and says that he only used alcohol before a ‘come to Jesus moment’. The often high Mayor does not ask Toronto residents to ride bicycles in a city with epileptic traffic lights, open man holes and sidewalks that are taken over by cars in many places. That is not because he is such a good guy. It is just because Toronto has functional street lights. Google it, I am not lying. 

They elect their Mayor in Toronto. Every major city deserves an opportunity to elect its own crack head. There is a reason you never see the Minister of the FCT on the streets. He doesn’t work for you. 

5.

Majority of the people who live here are liars. They tell their friends they live in Abuja when they commute daily from crowded places like Nyanya, Gwagwa, Gwagwalada, Mararaba. Liars will not make heaven. That is why, when someone asks where you live, you say, I live in the FCT. Not Abuja. 

6.

Cleanliness is next to godliness but only on some Abuja streets. It doesn’t seem like a great idea to keep the whole city clean- with perfect earthly cities people will stop aspiring to heaven. And god forbid that people stop looking forward to heaven. 

7.

Park [paark](noun) : {not} a public place for recreation. With the exception of one or two places, an Abuja park is a place with plastic chairs and tables where you buy bludgeoned catfish and beer. It does not welcome idle people who have watched too many foreign movies and want to ‘take a walk in the park.’ Abuja rightly resists cultural imperialism. 

8.

An ambulance belonging to the city will discourage rich people from decongesting the city by flying abroad for medical treatment. There are already too many cars in the city. The absence of any emergency services gives residents of the city the opportunity to should neighborly love. It is God who said you must love your neighbor as yourself. Taking a bleeding stranger in your car to a hospital which may or may not be able to help is an investment in eternal life. And you really want to make heaven.

HOW TO BE SICK IN NIGERIA

The Nigerian god is a god not of illness but of salubrity. I cannot speak for European and American gods and goddesses who allow their worshippers openly confess their illnesses to friends, neighbours and strangers. Sometimes they even go on TV shows and talk about what insidious viruses have attacked their bodies. There is a reason why we are happy and they are not. Our god does not approve of such shameful confessions. And you must recognize as a worshipper that the body is the temple of god. Thus, a public confession that your body is harbouring a virus is like saying that the owner of that temple cannot take care of his own house. God forbid that you should stoop to such blasphemous behaviour.

This, however, is not to deny the existence of viruses and bacteria which may from time to time pay visits to this temple of our god. Far from it. But we must treat such events as what they are: mere temporary visitations from our less evolved relatives. We know that one does not go proclaiming the details of a visitation from one’s relatives. Intimate things that happen during such visitations are to be kept within the family. 

So, say you have been visited by a flu and you suffer headaches, running nose and weakness, you must, when asked, say I am well or the more faith-inspired it is well. You are not a European who will say, I have a flu or I have ovarian cancer. Conceal it until it becomes unbearable and impossible to conceal. Do not do rude things like refuse to shake people because you may pass something on. Better a virus-ridden handshake than no handshake. Even when you sneeze wildly, people, instead of being offended at suddenly having to share their space with other living organisms, will say politely, bless you.

The only visitations that you are permitted to talk about are things like malaria or headache. By virtue of how common such visitations are, you can share thoughts about it, like a pregnant woman discussing remedies to morning sickness with another pregnant woman. 

Another exception to talking about visitations of organisms is when you are the host of a condition which has symptoms similar to those of visitations that attract judgment. Like HIV. A visitation by HIV is perceived to be the fault of the host and so we judge the host for harbouring it. We treat them like traitors and abandon them to suffer the consequences. Just like we do not judge people for stealing but for getting caught, we do not judge people for leaving their doors open by having unprotected sex or multiple partners. We judge them when we find out their temples have that treacherous HIV guest. I will talk about this later. But say you have something like cancer, kidney or liver issues, eating disorders or hormonal imbalance issues that make you lose a lot of weight. This gives people only one idea. That you are harbouring a virus like HIV. That you are a traitor. A sinner. An evil conspirator seeking to destroy the temple of god. In this case, when people see you and give you that look, you must quickly announce that your weight loss is due to a visitation of a non-treacherous kind and then proceed to state in great detail what type of visitation it is. This will not stop Papa Chidera from asking Mama Chidera if she has seen how ‘lean’ you have become lately. But it will prevent them from making the conclusion that you must have HIV. It will prevent them from drawing on history to back the claim – those nights they saw you with someone of the opposite sex and all the partners you have ever had. They will simply discuss your visitation with as much empathy as they have in them. Who knows, they may even try to help. Your friends may even organize fund raisers to buy you a new kidney or send you to India for chemotherapy. Your church will organize prayers for you and hundreds of prayer warriors will bind and cast this visitor who mimics the visitation of the treacherous one. 

Now if your visitation is actually of a treacherous kind, like HIV, you must conceal it as much as you can. Never ever admit this. For a while you may lie that you have other types of visitations. But you cannot do that for long without people suspecting you. Seek treatment if you must but do so discreetly. If you are attending hospital for anti-retroviral drugs for example and you live in Kogi State, instead of going to the centres in Lokoja, travel far away to a hospital in Abuja or Kaduna. The reason is very simple. Someone who knows you is likely to see you walking into the HIV unit and proceed to spread the gospel about your treachery. Or some hospital staff who knows you may stumble upon your records and proceed to warn everyone she knows about it. Lay low and avoid detection. If however this visitation has reached an advanced stage where the virus has actually moved in with you and has become AIDS, you must move far away to a village where no one knows you. Because no one will offer their righteous prayers on behalf of a traitor. There will be no campaigns for you. No tear-jerking hashtags. No concerts to raise money. No short codes for people to sms donations. No summoning of Jesus and the Holy Spirit to take charge. Only stigma. 

You cannot avoid visitations. But you can avoid being judged for it. Take my advice: protect your temple today. 

Ps. Pride goes before a foolish question. Stop pretending you know the meaning of the word salubrity and check it up in the dictionary like I did.