I express myself via art, music and writing.
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| Cool Vibe with DJ Irawo |
Check out my Cool Vibe videos on mental health:
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| DJ Irawo: The Maverick |
My parents unsuccessfully tried to prevent me from sharing my mental health stories online.
Whenever my parents took me for my psychiatric sessions at the Neuro-Psychiatric Hospital at Aro, Abeokuta, Ogun state, I would try to take pictures and videos of myself walking by the trees.
Those trees are beautiful and peaceful.
The ambience of that hospital is serene, soothing and calming.
Soon, I would love to visit the doctors and patients.
I would love to show myself to the doctors as a product of their intellectual efforts.
I would love to show myself to the patients as encouragement of what would be if they take their medicine and therapy according to prescription.
I would love to shoot a music video in that environment too.
As I was saying, they said that I was disgracing their family.
So, I stopped using my parents' names on my wall.
I have stopped using my ex-husband's name even before our marriage packed up.
I am Irawo Drummer!
AKA Drum Jamming Irawo!
AKA Disc Jockey Irawo!
Let me disgrace myself by myself.
After a second chance to live, I no longer care about disgrace or anything of that nature.
My aim is to bring light to the issue of mental health in Nigeria.
I am not ashamed to share my story.
I am a living testimony that one can still live a purposeful life after depression, suicidal
attempts and divorce.
Check out my Cool Vibe videos about music therapy and mental health via these links:
Musically yours,
DJ Irawo
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| IS THIS THE REASON WHY WHITE GARMENT CHURCHES ‘BEAT THE DEVIL’ OUT OF MENTAL HEALTH PATIENTS? |
An introduction ceremony in the Yoruba tradition is a day where the family of a fiancé visits the family of his fiancée for a formal introduction.
After the ceremony, it is deemed that the fiancé and fiancée are ‘legally’ engaged and marriage plans can then be fixed.
Aderemi (not real name) fell into a depression on the day of her introduction ceremony.
While
guests were seated in the living room awaiting the arrival of her fiancé and
his family, she was responding to an SOS conversation. Her fiancé had called to
call off their relationship.
When
her mother realized that her daughter was taking too long in her room, she
decided to check on her and found her slumped on the ground.
Chaos!
Havoc! Pandemonium!
Two
weeks after this incident, her widowed mother visited me to ask for my advice about how to get her treated. She was aware that I was living with my parents while
recuperating from a failed suicide attempt and going through my divorce
proceedings.
She
told me that her daughter had been given a break from work and was at home
simply staring into space.
I advised her to register her daughter at any of the following psychiatric hospitals:
The young lady was taken to a beach at night and beaten till her body peeled.
She
had to agree to the interrogations by the prophet and his prayer warriors that
she was totally free so that she could escape their spiritual fangs.
The situation got worse.
She
decided to pack a few things and stayed with a friend for a few weeks. She felt
better and was able to return to work.
Afterwards,
she came home, packed her remaining things and bade farewell to her mother.
Her
mother came back to ask us what she should do about her daughter who
had clearly disowned her.
It is
a waste of time to give this woman another piece of advice. It is too late.
So, why do many Nigerians feel that mental health problem is a spiritual problem?
14 Now the Spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul
and an evil[a] spirit from the Lord tormented him.
15 Saul’s attendants said to him, “See, an evil spirit from God is
tormenting you. 16 Let our lord
command his servants here to search for someone who can play the lyre. He
will play when the evil spirit from God comes on you and you will feel better.”
17 So Saul said to his attendants, “Find someone who plays well and
bring him to me.”
18 One of the servants answered, “I have seen a son of Jesse of
Bethlehem who knows how to play the lyre. He is a brave man and a
warrior. He speaks well and is a fine-looking man. And the Lord is
with him.”
19 Then Saul sent messengers to Jesse and said, “Send me your son
David, who is with the sheep.” 20 So
Jesse took a donkey loaded with bread, a skin of wine and a young goat and
sent them with his son David to Saul.
21 David came to Saul and entered his service. Saul liked him
very much and David became one of his armor-bearers. 22 Then Saul sent word to Jesse, saying,
“Allow David to remain in my service, for I am pleased with him.”
23 Whenever the spirit from God came on Saul, David would take up his
lyre and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better and the
evil spirit would leave him.
My problems with the
above Bible passage are listed below:
1.
Why would God, who calls Himself, our father bring such a drastic
sickness on one of His children for committing a sin?
2.
Why would he favour one child at the detriment of another
(favouring David over Saul when it is clear that He is the one that made Saul
to behave in such a manner)? Is he teaching us favouritism?
3.
Is this the reason why white-garment churches and indeed many
Christians believe that mental health issues have roots in evil spirits and put the
patients who ought to be loved and cared for through torture?
The only positive part of this passage is that music was able to soothe Saul and brighten up his mood.
Clearly, music therapy started from here.
It
irks me when people tell mentally challenged people that evil spirits are
tormenting them and that is the reason why they have mental health issues.
They
call them sinners who need to atone for their sins and lock them up in churches
and mosques to get help through series of prayers.
These
children and adults are sexually molested by the people who were contracted to pray for them and they end up leaving these gas chambers with more problems than the ones that brought them there in the first
place.
Why are Nigerians the only ones that are seeing evil spirits?!
In
my opinion, religion has done more harm than good to humanity in this country and it keeps on
getting worse.
Every
day, Nigeria keeps getting dragged closer into a dungeon despite the existence
of a million religious organizations in this nation but my people are too blind
to realise it.
Countries with zero or less religions are doing better than Nigeria in terms of economic, scientific and technological developments but my people will go to church to pray for jobs
inside once-upon-a-time factories-cum-churches.
How do we break away from this mentality?
As for me, humanity is my religion.
You may also read one of my blog posts titled: World Mental Health Day 2020
Read another story about another white-garment-church-beating from my brother-in-law in this two-part story, The One Way Street to Depression
Musically yours,
DJ Irawo
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| How I Discovered the Benefits of Music Therapy for Pregnancy, Childbirth and Postpartum Depression |
After birthing my first son on August 26, 2002 at the Apapa General Hospital, Lagos, I suffered from postpartum depression.
He weighed 3.75kg at birth and it was a very painful experience for me.
At that time, I did not know what it was called. I just thought that I was weighed down with trying to adjust to my wifely and motherhood duties and juggling my undergraduate lectures and professional examinations in accounting together.
My plate was full!
I did not get treatment for it because I did not know that I had a problem but I could not explain why I was usually moody.
However, I have always loved to
listen to music and I did just that on a regular basis and it helped to
brighten up my mood whenever I felt sad.
I was tempted to drop out of school but after much thought, I pulled myself together.
I decided to defer my professional examination and took things easy upon the realization that
I had to share my time with my baby and my husband.
I flunked all my courses in my final year. My grades dropped from the first class. I was tired of school.
Eventually, I graduated with a second class upper with no
carryovers. I did not really care because I was already having doubts about
pursuing a career in accounting but I did not want to disappoint my parents.
Two years after childbirth, I was given a Jehovah witness magazine by a preaching couple who came by my house.
One of the topics in that magazine was postpartum depression.
That was when I realized that what I suffered from two years ago was postpartum
depression.
So, I went online to learn more about it and I discovered other types of depression such as bipolar disorder.
I also discovered that I could listen to organized music to help ease the anxiety.
I
decided to consult a psychiatrist at the Neuro-Psychiatric Hospital, Aro, Ogun
State. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and given anti-depressants.
This happened because I did not get treated the post partum depression treated on time.
Armed
with this knowledge, I was able to prepare myself for psychiatric treatment
after I had a painful miscarriage in 2006.
The miscarriage happened in church. I had just completed my National Youth Service in Lagos.
I had wanted to
get up to go with the choir to the podium to render a special number. As I got up, I almost
fainted as blood gushed out of me like a tap. I was rushed home by some of the
choristers.
I
took a bath and lay down on the couch. After a while, I felt like urinating. As
I got up to go to the toilet, I felt a thud in my pant. What could it be? Did I
just defecate in my pant?
I
doubted it. The thud came from my vagina. I knew it.
Slowly, I pulled down my pant and there it
was….a foetus. It must have been about six weeks old. It was already
formed into a baby with a head but no arms and legs.
I let out a sharp cry and cried for a
while. Afterwards, I got a tissue paper, put the foetus in it and kept it in a
bowl in front of the bathroom. I wanted my husband to see it when he came back
from church with our son before flushing it down the toilet.
I fell into a depression afterwards. Music came to the rescue. In addition, my spirit was lifted after I got an invitation by the Nigerian Navy for an aptitude test. I had applied for a short service career with the Nigerian Navy after rejecting Access Bank’s job offer. I was already bored with my bank job. I was looking for something exciting.
I came
second in the Lagos test and I was invited to Onne, Port Harcourt for another series
of written tests, physical tests, health tests and oral interviews. I excelled in all these
tests but I began to feel funny shortly after I got back home.
I went for a blood test and I was sure that no
matter how well I performed at the other tests, I must have failed the Navy urine
and blood tests because I was pregnant again.
I often fell sick and could not apply for another job. So, I stayed at home and applied for a music scholarship at the Pencils Film and Television Institute (PEFTI) after I watched the advertisement on Silverbird Television whilst watching cartoons with my son.
I was the only one selected for music. So, I began music school with my bulgy belly.
For my second childbirth on June 5, 2007 at the Island Maternity Hospital, Lagos, I was prepared.
I listened to a lot of music during my pregnancy. Before my
delivery date I had prepared playlists that I listened to via my phone and
earphone to help ease the tension.
I
had induced labour for my first and second childbirths as these babies refused
to come out. They wanted to build mansions inside of me.
As I waited to get induced by the doctor, I was anxious. So, I brought out my headphones and tried to listen to the radio.
The conversations on the radio talk show
were distracting and made me uncomfortable. I needed to focus. So, I switched
to my music playlist.
The
first playlist were songs that I loved: a blend of hip hop and soul music.
After
the doctor induced me, I began to feel pains and then I began to feel
uncomfortable with the lyrics of the music. I just wanted to hear the melody
and rhythm of the music. So, I switched to another playlist that consisted of jazz
music without lyrics.
My
mother told me to remove my earphones so that I would be comfortable. I did
not listen to her. Besides, the screams of the other women in the labour ward were distracting. She did not know that I was comfortable listening
to my music instead of the distracting screams around me.
These women were screaming at the top of their lungs about the pain that they were going
through. It seemed as though they were first-time mothers.
In that
ward, there were five women in labour including me. I was the last patient to
come into the ward.
The
woman by my left-hand side had been there the evening before. I met her crying
and screaming at intervals when I got into the ward.
The
woman by my right was brought in by her husband in the early hours of that
morning.
One of the two women across the room, obviously, a Muslim woman was screaming, “Allahuakba!” and at intervals, she would curse her husband for impregnating her and vow never to allow him to touch her again.
Afterwards, she
exclaimed that she was tired of the labour pains and that she would opt for a
caesarian operation. The nurses tried in vain to calm her down and explain to
her that having a CS was expensive but her mind was made up.
The fifth lady was simply shouting, “Jesus!!!” and then she would begin to wail.
As the labour pains grew worse, I carefully removed my earphones and phone and put them in my bag.
I removed all of my clothing. I just wanted to be naked and comfortable.
I did not bring any drum with me but I needed something to
distract me.
So,
I drew one of the side cupboards close to me and began to beat heavily on the
table beside me to divert my attention away from the pain that I was going
through.
One of the nurses said I was disturbing the peace of the hospital. I ignored her and continued drumming. At least, I was not shouting like the other women.
I did this for the next three hours until the doctor came to check on me and said it was time to push.
My
second baby weighed 4.5kg. The doctor said that if she had known that my baby
was going to be that big, she would have suggested that I had it via CS.
I did not need a CS. Music gave me the power to push.
It was shortly after my third childbirth that realized that choosing between natural birth and a CS is like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea.
The ward where I was placed was full of women who had just had CS.
Some of them would wail as the wound below their stomach was being treated by the nurses and I would begin to cry.
I told my husband to come and get me quickly. I could not stand the gory sight anymore.
It would have been so nice if they had music to help ease their pain.
Unfortunately, I could not do that for them. I had to take care of my baby and myself as I had become very weak.
As I was saying, I
gave birth before the four women that I met at the ward.
The Muslim woman had been whisked to the theatre for a CS after she continued to persist.
The woman on my left side too decided to opt for a CS and my mother asked her if
her husband could afford it. No, he could not. He had just lost his job and she
was a first-time mum.
She was motivated by me. I asked her if she wanted to use my music method and she replied in affirmation.
So, I played my playlists via speaker and told her to
concentrate on the music and soon, she was delivered of a baby girl.
After two weeks of childbirth, I discovered that I had begun to suffer the same symptoms that I suffered after my first baby and after the miscarriage in addition to being forgetful.
I found it difficult to comprehend conversations. I had to keep my children close to me so that I would remember to take care of them.
Music school final examination was coming up. I had it deferred by a month so that I could get treated. I could not study. I had forgotten everything that I was taught or probably ever knew.
So, I consulted a psychiatrist at Marcy Children’s
Hospital. He diagnosed anti-depressants that would not hinder my breastfeeding.
I also supported my recovery with music therapy.
I
repeated the psychiatry visits and music therapy for myself for my third son
who weighed 4kg at birth. I had him at Ifako General Hospital.
From my labour and natural childbirth experiences, I have discovered that music:
1. Helped me to be focused.
2. Gave me a distraction
from my pain.
3. Helped me to maintain my
breathing pace according to the rhythm and beat of the music
4. Acted as a stimulus for my relaxation before,
during and after childbirth.
5. Can help to reduce the death of women during childbirth.
Thus,
from my experience and observation, I can confidently affirm that music therapy
support can contribute to the successful outcome of both natural and CS childbirths by reducing
anxiety, pain, creating a positive ambience and support throughout a childbirth
experience.
Do you have any music therapy experience? Kindly share in the comment secton.
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| Music Therapy in Nigeria by DJ Irawo |
