Wednesday, September 19, 2018
Video - Nigeria floods displaces more than 30,000 people
Nigeria's Emergency Management Agency estimates more than 100 people have been killed, and 30 thousand displaced by flooding in the past two weeks alone.
Tuesday, September 18, 2018
The battle to dispel black magic behind sex slavery in Nigeria
BENIN CITY, Nigeria, Sept 18 (Thomson Reuters Foundation) - When Florence broke out in lesions on her face, she was convinced it was because she had crossed a black magic curse cast on her as she left Nigeria to work in Russia's sex trade.
Florence is one of a rising number of women lured in recent years from impoverished lives in southern Nigeria to Europe with the promise of lucrative work, many ending up selling sex.
Although some of the women knowingly entered into contracts for sex work, few realised they would be trapped like slaves for years, with their traffickers colluding with madams to ensure black magic curses, or juju, stopped them escaping.
For belief in juju to kill or maim is deeply rooted in Edo state, the home of about nine in every 10 Nigerian women trafficked to Europe, according to the U.N. Office on Drugs and Crime (UNDOC), with a battle now waging to end witchcraft's hold over trafficking victims.
Florence, 24, said she had not known she was headed for sex work six years ago when she agreed to a loan to fund a trip to work in Russia in a deal brokered by a pastor from her church.
Before leaving her home in Benin, the capital city of Edo, she was taken to a juju priest who used her hair and clothing to make a spell to bind her to her traffickers then she was taken to Lagos where she was raped before being sent to Russia.
"They took my pants. They took my bra. They took my hair from my armpits and also from my private parts," she told the Thomson Reuters Foundation.
"(The madam) used those items she took from me to take as vengeance against me."
She was convinced that juju was to blame for facial lesions that erupted in 2016 after she refused to give her captors any more money after paying them 45,000 euro ($53,000) and fled back to Nigeria.
SPELLS AND CURSES
Florence's fear of black magic if she disobeyed her traffickers, went to the police or failed to pay her debt is typical for many women trafficked from Nigeria, experts say.
Many end up enslaved after signing a contract to finance their move, leaving them with debts that spiral into thousands of dollars and take years to pay off.
Between 2014 and 2016, there was an almost 10-fold increase in the number of Nigerian women arriving in Italy by boat - about 11,000 - with at least four in five becoming prostitutes, according to the International Organization for Migration (IOM).
But law enforcement officials and campaigners are hoping the intervention this year by Oba Ewuare II, leader of the historic kingdom of Benin, could end this burgeoning trade.
In March, the Oba summoned the kingdom's juju priests to a ceremony at his palace and dismissed the curses they had placed on trafficking victims - and cast a fresh curse on anyone who went against his order.
Since then, anecdotal evidence from people involved in the trade suggests the trafficking has slowed although it is too soon for firm data to be collated.
Patience, 42, who has supplemented her income as a hairdresser by selling girls into overseas sex work for about 16 years, said the leader's ceremony had stopped the trafficking.
"I didn't hear directly from his mouth but, through the radio and television. The Oba has stopped everything," Patience told the Thomson Reuters Foundation in her home in Benin, where she lives with her husband and four children.
"Whenever I go out, I meet girls who beg me to take them to Europe but I refuse because I don't want to die. Everybody is afraid."
David Edebiri, the second highest ranking chief in Benin, said he believes the Oba's involvement, inspired by repeated bad press in the international media, has reduced trafficking and could help bring more traffickers to justice as many women involved were previously too afraid of juju rituals to testify.
"It has been very, very effective and that if even anything is going on now, it must be a very minute dimension. Not as it was before (when) it was becoming everybody's game," he said.
ESCAPING POVERTY
But with unemployment in Edo at 20 percent, according to the National Bureau of Statistics, women especially are hard pressed to find work. Living standards are low with large families to feed and few outlets to earn.
Nigeria has the most extreme poor people in the world, according to The World Poverty Clock, with almost half of its 180 million population living on less than $2 a day.
So many women, like Betty, say the crackdown on traffickers taking girls for sex work in other countries - often with the knowledge of their families - is unlikely to stop the industry.
When Betty touched down in Nigeria from Belgium two years ago, she knelt on the tarmac, raised her hands, and thanked God she was home after five years of being trapped in sex work repaying debts.
Now Betty, 29 and single, can't wait to get back to Europe.
She has not found work since returning to Benin. She avoids her mother, a fish seller, who is distraught about her daughter's fall from grace.
"When I was in Europe, I was like a celebrity ... I did a lot of things for my family," she told the Thomson Reuters Foundation, recalling life before she was deported from Belgium.
"I was their hope, their joy. I was giving my parents feeding money. My elder brother's children, the four of them, I was also paying their school fees," said Betty from the one-bedroom home she shares with her brother's seven-strong family.
She said it was now difficult to stay in Nigeria,
"If I have my way, I will definitely go back," said Betty, who paid about 50,000 euros ($58,000) to a Nigerian madam in Europe over five years to work in the sex business.
Betty, who did not want to reveal her surname, said she earned thousands of euros in Europe, selling her body several times a day from street corners and a rented flat.
DANGEROUS WORK
It came with its risks.
She injured her back after jumping out of a speeding car to escape one punter. Her flatmate disappeared after going to meet a client.
Florence also spoke of the dangers involved, recalling arriving to meet a client and finding 15 men waiting and always checking out which doors and windows could be escape routes.
But some women and their families remain willing to take the risks for the money that can support whole families in Nigeria.
Victor Irorere has two daughters, aged 18 and 21, who have both lived in Europe for at least four years and he knows work "with their bodies" but he relies on their earnings.
"They help me ... They often send money," said Irorere, 47, a bricklayer and father of 11, as he waited outside a juju priest's shrine in Benin, a live chicken struggling in his hand, to pay for a good luck spell for his daughters.
Kokunre Eghafona, a professor of sociology at the University of Benin who researches human trafficking, said the Oba's curse was not stopping but just changing patterns in the sex trafficking trade.
With traffickers and juju priests terrified of the misfortunes that might befall them as a result of the Oba's curse, girls and young women are instead raising their own funds to finance their journeys to Europe and beyond.
The United Nations this year recorded a sharp fall in the number of migrants reaching Europe by sea, with the biggest change in the once-busy channel between North Africa and Italy.
But experts said this was because traffickers have found a new market.
Middle Eastern countries, such as Saudi Arabia, Egypt, UAE and Oman, are now the new destinations of choice for Nigerians selling sex, according to Nduka Nwanwenne, Benin zonal commander of Nigeria's anti-trafficking agency (NAPTIP).
He said many of the girls are tricked into believing that they will be going to work as house maids and nurses, only to be forced into sex work, while others are going willingly.
"But you know when it comes to willingness, a victim is still a victim. There are some that don't know the extent of what they are going to do there. They don't know the extent of exploitation," Nwanwenne told the Thomson Reuters Foundation.
($1 = 0.8556 euros)
Video - Nigerian women trafficked to Europe for prostitution at 'crisis level'
Florence is one of a rising number of women lured in recent years from impoverished lives in southern Nigeria to Europe with the promise of lucrative work, many ending up selling sex.
Although some of the women knowingly entered into contracts for sex work, few realised they would be trapped like slaves for years, with their traffickers colluding with madams to ensure black magic curses, or juju, stopped them escaping.
For belief in juju to kill or maim is deeply rooted in Edo state, the home of about nine in every 10 Nigerian women trafficked to Europe, according to the U.N. Office on Drugs and Crime (UNDOC), with a battle now waging to end witchcraft's hold over trafficking victims.
Florence, 24, said she had not known she was headed for sex work six years ago when she agreed to a loan to fund a trip to work in Russia in a deal brokered by a pastor from her church.
Before leaving her home in Benin, the capital city of Edo, she was taken to a juju priest who used her hair and clothing to make a spell to bind her to her traffickers then she was taken to Lagos where she was raped before being sent to Russia.
"They took my pants. They took my bra. They took my hair from my armpits and also from my private parts," she told the Thomson Reuters Foundation.
"(The madam) used those items she took from me to take as vengeance against me."
She was convinced that juju was to blame for facial lesions that erupted in 2016 after she refused to give her captors any more money after paying them 45,000 euro ($53,000) and fled back to Nigeria.
SPELLS AND CURSES
Florence's fear of black magic if she disobeyed her traffickers, went to the police or failed to pay her debt is typical for many women trafficked from Nigeria, experts say.
Many end up enslaved after signing a contract to finance their move, leaving them with debts that spiral into thousands of dollars and take years to pay off.
Between 2014 and 2016, there was an almost 10-fold increase in the number of Nigerian women arriving in Italy by boat - about 11,000 - with at least four in five becoming prostitutes, according to the International Organization for Migration (IOM).
But law enforcement officials and campaigners are hoping the intervention this year by Oba Ewuare II, leader of the historic kingdom of Benin, could end this burgeoning trade.
In March, the Oba summoned the kingdom's juju priests to a ceremony at his palace and dismissed the curses they had placed on trafficking victims - and cast a fresh curse on anyone who went against his order.
Since then, anecdotal evidence from people involved in the trade suggests the trafficking has slowed although it is too soon for firm data to be collated.
Patience, 42, who has supplemented her income as a hairdresser by selling girls into overseas sex work for about 16 years, said the leader's ceremony had stopped the trafficking.
"I didn't hear directly from his mouth but, through the radio and television. The Oba has stopped everything," Patience told the Thomson Reuters Foundation in her home in Benin, where she lives with her husband and four children.
"Whenever I go out, I meet girls who beg me to take them to Europe but I refuse because I don't want to die. Everybody is afraid."
David Edebiri, the second highest ranking chief in Benin, said he believes the Oba's involvement, inspired by repeated bad press in the international media, has reduced trafficking and could help bring more traffickers to justice as many women involved were previously too afraid of juju rituals to testify.
"It has been very, very effective and that if even anything is going on now, it must be a very minute dimension. Not as it was before (when) it was becoming everybody's game," he said.
ESCAPING POVERTY
But with unemployment in Edo at 20 percent, according to the National Bureau of Statistics, women especially are hard pressed to find work. Living standards are low with large families to feed and few outlets to earn.
Nigeria has the most extreme poor people in the world, according to The World Poverty Clock, with almost half of its 180 million population living on less than $2 a day.
So many women, like Betty, say the crackdown on traffickers taking girls for sex work in other countries - often with the knowledge of their families - is unlikely to stop the industry.
When Betty touched down in Nigeria from Belgium two years ago, she knelt on the tarmac, raised her hands, and thanked God she was home after five years of being trapped in sex work repaying debts.
Now Betty, 29 and single, can't wait to get back to Europe.
She has not found work since returning to Benin. She avoids her mother, a fish seller, who is distraught about her daughter's fall from grace.
"When I was in Europe, I was like a celebrity ... I did a lot of things for my family," she told the Thomson Reuters Foundation, recalling life before she was deported from Belgium.
"I was their hope, their joy. I was giving my parents feeding money. My elder brother's children, the four of them, I was also paying their school fees," said Betty from the one-bedroom home she shares with her brother's seven-strong family.
She said it was now difficult to stay in Nigeria,
"If I have my way, I will definitely go back," said Betty, who paid about 50,000 euros ($58,000) to a Nigerian madam in Europe over five years to work in the sex business.
Betty, who did not want to reveal her surname, said she earned thousands of euros in Europe, selling her body several times a day from street corners and a rented flat.
DANGEROUS WORK
It came with its risks.
She injured her back after jumping out of a speeding car to escape one punter. Her flatmate disappeared after going to meet a client.
Florence also spoke of the dangers involved, recalling arriving to meet a client and finding 15 men waiting and always checking out which doors and windows could be escape routes.
But some women and their families remain willing to take the risks for the money that can support whole families in Nigeria.
Victor Irorere has two daughters, aged 18 and 21, who have both lived in Europe for at least four years and he knows work "with their bodies" but he relies on their earnings.
"They help me ... They often send money," said Irorere, 47, a bricklayer and father of 11, as he waited outside a juju priest's shrine in Benin, a live chicken struggling in his hand, to pay for a good luck spell for his daughters.
Kokunre Eghafona, a professor of sociology at the University of Benin who researches human trafficking, said the Oba's curse was not stopping but just changing patterns in the sex trafficking trade.
With traffickers and juju priests terrified of the misfortunes that might befall them as a result of the Oba's curse, girls and young women are instead raising their own funds to finance their journeys to Europe and beyond.
The United Nations this year recorded a sharp fall in the number of migrants reaching Europe by sea, with the biggest change in the once-busy channel between North Africa and Italy.
But experts said this was because traffickers have found a new market.
Middle Eastern countries, such as Saudi Arabia, Egypt, UAE and Oman, are now the new destinations of choice for Nigerians selling sex, according to Nduka Nwanwenne, Benin zonal commander of Nigeria's anti-trafficking agency (NAPTIP).
He said many of the girls are tricked into believing that they will be going to work as house maids and nurses, only to be forced into sex work, while others are going willingly.
"But you know when it comes to willingness, a victim is still a victim. There are some that don't know the extent of what they are going to do there. They don't know the extent of exploitation," Nwanwenne told the Thomson Reuters Foundation.
($1 = 0.8556 euros)
Related stories: The illegal sex trafficking trail between Nigeria and Europe
Kidnapped International Red Cross aid worker murdered in Nigeria
A female aid worker abducted in Nigeria's troubled northeast region has been killed, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) said Monday.
Saifura Hussaini Ahmed Khorsa, 25, was kidnapped by suspected Boko Haram militants in March this year alongside two other ICRC aid workers during an attack on a military facility.
At least three Nigerian aid workers were killed and three others were injured in the attack.
The ICRC condemned the killing and said it was "devastated" by the news.
"We are devastated by the murder of our colleague Saifura," said Eloi Fillion, head of ICRC delegation in Abuja.
"Saifura moved to Rann to selflessly help those in need. Our thoughts are with her family and other loved ones at this incredibly difficult time," he added.
The ICRC said it will not comment on the "motives or the details" surrounding the nurse's death, and called for the immediate release of the two aid workers still held by the group.
"We urge those still holding our colleague Hauwa and Alice: release these women. Like Saifura, they are not part of the fight. They are a midwife and a nurse. They are daughters, a wife, and a mother -- women with families that depend on them," said Fillion.
"Their families and friends miss them dearly and will not give up the hope of seeing them again soon. There is no ideology or religious law that could justify doing any harm to them," he added.
Khorsa was working in the UNICEF clinic in Rann with internally displaced people in a remote town outside Maiduguri, in Nigeria's troubled north east region.
Her death comes as a local publication reported it had obtained a video that showed the aid worker being shot by the militants.
In the video, the insurgents alleged the Nigerian government ignored messages and audios it had sent showing that the aid workers were still alive, according to the report.
The report also stated that the kidnappers threatened to kill the two remaining health workers and kidnapped schoolgirl Leah Sharibu, who remains in Boko Haram camp because she reportedly refused to denounce her Christian faith.
Around 3,000 aid workers, most of them Nigerian nationals, work in Nigeria's northeast.
Boko Haram fighters who have waged a decade-long war in the region regularly attack such camps with gunmen and suicide bombers.
Saifura Hussaini Ahmed Khorsa, 25, was kidnapped by suspected Boko Haram militants in March this year alongside two other ICRC aid workers during an attack on a military facility.
At least three Nigerian aid workers were killed and three others were injured in the attack.
The ICRC condemned the killing and said it was "devastated" by the news.
"We are devastated by the murder of our colleague Saifura," said Eloi Fillion, head of ICRC delegation in Abuja.
"Saifura moved to Rann to selflessly help those in need. Our thoughts are with her family and other loved ones at this incredibly difficult time," he added.
The ICRC said it will not comment on the "motives or the details" surrounding the nurse's death, and called for the immediate release of the two aid workers still held by the group.
"We urge those still holding our colleague Hauwa and Alice: release these women. Like Saifura, they are not part of the fight. They are a midwife and a nurse. They are daughters, a wife, and a mother -- women with families that depend on them," said Fillion.
"Their families and friends miss them dearly and will not give up the hope of seeing them again soon. There is no ideology or religious law that could justify doing any harm to them," he added.
Khorsa was working in the UNICEF clinic in Rann with internally displaced people in a remote town outside Maiduguri, in Nigeria's troubled north east region.
Her death comes as a local publication reported it had obtained a video that showed the aid worker being shot by the militants.
In the video, the insurgents alleged the Nigerian government ignored messages and audios it had sent showing that the aid workers were still alive, according to the report.
The report also stated that the kidnappers threatened to kill the two remaining health workers and kidnapped schoolgirl Leah Sharibu, who remains in Boko Haram camp because she reportedly refused to denounce her Christian faith.
Around 3,000 aid workers, most of them Nigerian nationals, work in Nigeria's northeast.
Boko Haram fighters who have waged a decade-long war in the region regularly attack such camps with gunmen and suicide bombers.
Using an app to tackle food waste in Nigeria
"Going without food for any person, for any child - it's destabilising, it shakes you to your core. I remember being a child and going without food and being able to have just one good meal in a day."
Oscar Ekponimo's drive comes from a childhood fuelled by hunger. When his father got sick and couldn't work, the whole family went hungry.
But now this tech entrepreneur in Nigeria's capital Abuja thinks he has the answer to the problem of food inequality.
He's the inventor of an app called Chowberry which connects people to supermarket food that would ordinarily end up in the bin.
It has already been taken up by 35 retailers, NGOs (non-government organisations) and other organisations in the country.
At a supermarket in Abuja, a sales assistant unloads shelves filled with semolina, a type of milled flour, into shopping trolleys. He's preparing the products for collection by Thrifty Slayer - a charity that has bought these discounted items via Chowberry.
Oscar Ekponimo's drive comes from a childhood fuelled by hunger. When his father got sick and couldn't work, the whole family went hungry.
But now this tech entrepreneur in Nigeria's capital Abuja thinks he has the answer to the problem of food inequality.
He's the inventor of an app called Chowberry which connects people to supermarket food that would ordinarily end up in the bin.
It has already been taken up by 35 retailers, NGOs (non-government organisations) and other organisations in the country.
At a supermarket in Abuja, a sales assistant unloads shelves filled with semolina, a type of milled flour, into shopping trolleys. He's preparing the products for collection by Thrifty Slayer - a charity that has bought these discounted items via Chowberry.
Discount products
As we stand in one of the aisles, Oscar takes out a tablet to show me how the technology works. "We have a system on this app that allows retailers to put information about products that are about to expire.
"These products are deeply discounted because the products are reaching the end of their shelf life.
"The food would ordinarily be thrown away by the retailers, but with our system they have a way of saving their losses," he adds.
"At the same time NGOs are able to take this food at a very reasonable price and acquire more food for distribution."
Currently anyone can order food at a discount online, although there are 15 charities with priority access who are able to to order larger quantities.
Chowberry has a list of their preferences and sends them updates when it receives the type of food the charities need for their food distribution programmes.
The supermarket that Oscar is showing me round was an early adopter of Chowberry when it launched two years ago.
"Some of the shops we work with have said they've managed to save 80% of what they used to throw away," he tells me.
A study commissioned by the United Nations indicates that globally, one-third of food produced for consumption is lost or wasted.
This amounts to 1.3 billion tonnes a year. UN figures also suggest that one in nine of us across the globe go to bed on an empty stomach - despite there being enough food in the world.
Oscar's ability to relate to the problem is at the heart of his mission to reach those living on extremely low incomes, right at the bottom of the pyramid.
"They don't have access to smartphones, so the connecting entity is the NGOs," says Oscar.
Thrifty Slayer is one of the many charities and NGOs that buys discounted products for its food distribution programmes through the Chowberry app.
Its programmes are funded by selling donated second-hand clothing online but Ijeoma Nwizu, Thrifty Slayer's founder, says Chowberry helps the charity's funds go much further.
"We started feeding about 40 people, but then the community kept growing. Now we feed them and neighbouring communities - about 200 people every Sunday," she says.
"As the numbers of people we feed increased we started to look for ways to keep our costs low. The good thing about partnering with Chowberry is the availability of food in the quantities we need them."
UN figures show over 14 million people in Nigeria are classified as undernourished.
Hunger is a major problem according to Amara Nwankpa, director of public policy at the Shehu Musa Yar'Adua Foundation, an organisation campaigning for food security.
"I think the challenges we face with food supply and access represents an opportunity for innovators. We have no choice but to innovate our way out of this situation," says Amara.
"Most times I get emotional about it. I get a sense of fulfilment that a simple idea can reach people in a real way. But the feelings are mixed," says Oscar during a visit to Pyakasa, a small dusty town surrounded by mountains on the outskirts of Abuja where a feeding programme is under way.
On the days we are there, around 50 people, mainly women and children, were queuing for lunch. We were told that for most of them, this would have been their biggest meal all week.
"The challenge is to scale up, that's where our work is cut out for the next few years," says Oscar. "I'm in it for the long haul, as long as there's the value chain of food there will always be food floating around."
Food waste is a huge problem and this entrepreneur has global aspirations for his simple solution.
He hopes that once it makes inroads in Nigeria and across Africa, it will go on to transform the lives of people around the world.
As we stand in one of the aisles, Oscar takes out a tablet to show me how the technology works. "We have a system on this app that allows retailers to put information about products that are about to expire.
"These products are deeply discounted because the products are reaching the end of their shelf life.
"The food would ordinarily be thrown away by the retailers, but with our system they have a way of saving their losses," he adds.
"At the same time NGOs are able to take this food at a very reasonable price and acquire more food for distribution."
Currently anyone can order food at a discount online, although there are 15 charities with priority access who are able to to order larger quantities.
Chowberry has a list of their preferences and sends them updates when it receives the type of food the charities need for their food distribution programmes.
The supermarket that Oscar is showing me round was an early adopter of Chowberry when it launched two years ago.
"Some of the shops we work with have said they've managed to save 80% of what they used to throw away," he tells me.
A study commissioned by the United Nations indicates that globally, one-third of food produced for consumption is lost or wasted.
This amounts to 1.3 billion tonnes a year. UN figures also suggest that one in nine of us across the globe go to bed on an empty stomach - despite there being enough food in the world.
Oscar's ability to relate to the problem is at the heart of his mission to reach those living on extremely low incomes, right at the bottom of the pyramid.
"They don't have access to smartphones, so the connecting entity is the NGOs," says Oscar.
Thrifty Slayer is one of the many charities and NGOs that buys discounted products for its food distribution programmes through the Chowberry app.
Its programmes are funded by selling donated second-hand clothing online but Ijeoma Nwizu, Thrifty Slayer's founder, says Chowberry helps the charity's funds go much further.
"We started feeding about 40 people, but then the community kept growing. Now we feed them and neighbouring communities - about 200 people every Sunday," she says.
"As the numbers of people we feed increased we started to look for ways to keep our costs low. The good thing about partnering with Chowberry is the availability of food in the quantities we need them."
UN figures show over 14 million people in Nigeria are classified as undernourished.
Hunger is a major problem according to Amara Nwankpa, director of public policy at the Shehu Musa Yar'Adua Foundation, an organisation campaigning for food security.
"I think the challenges we face with food supply and access represents an opportunity for innovators. We have no choice but to innovate our way out of this situation," says Amara.
"Most times I get emotional about it. I get a sense of fulfilment that a simple idea can reach people in a real way. But the feelings are mixed," says Oscar during a visit to Pyakasa, a small dusty town surrounded by mountains on the outskirts of Abuja where a feeding programme is under way.
On the days we are there, around 50 people, mainly women and children, were queuing for lunch. We were told that for most of them, this would have been their biggest meal all week.
"The challenge is to scale up, that's where our work is cut out for the next few years," says Oscar. "I'm in it for the long haul, as long as there's the value chain of food there will always be food floating around."
Food waste is a huge problem and this entrepreneur has global aspirations for his simple solution.
He hopes that once it makes inroads in Nigeria and across Africa, it will go on to transform the lives of people around the world.
Nigeria's undercover atheists
Denouncing God can be a dangerous thing in Nigeria, where religion is the rhythm of life.
Atheism, considered blasphemy by many, is a largely underground movement that's hard to quantify but increasingly reported among millennials.
Atheists come together in private on WhatsApp groups and use pseudonyms on social media sites to share ideas.
The Nigerian population of nearly 200 million is split almost evenly between Muslims and Christians with sizeable followers of traditional spirituality.
"As a clergyman, this makes me sad that today we have people in Nigeria going in for atheism," Gideon Obasogie, a Roman Catholic cleric tells A Jazeera. "The effect of this will be terrible. For one who says there is no God, he can do all kinds of horrible things … I feel this will lead to anarchy and chaos. The rise of atheism in Nigeria is not wonderful news."
In recent months, Nigerian atheists have registered three pro-secular organisations: Atheist Society of Nigeria, the Northern Nigerian Humanist Association and the Nigerian Secular Society.
"We need these organisations as a space for people to come out," says Mubarak Bala, who helped to register the groups.
Bala attracted media attention in 2014 after being admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Kano by his parents when they found out he was atheist.
He says his father and uncles held him down for 30 minutes and forced him to take medications given by the psychiatrist, who told him "everyone needs God".
"People began secretly contacting me, telling me that they too, don't believe in Allah. Even Christians told me they don't think Jesus is God and they just have questions about the whole religion thing," Bala said.
Most keep their beliefs secret.
Bala is the only atheist who allowed Al Jazeera to use his real name.
Al Jazeera travelled to three cities - Kano, Kaduna and Abuja - to meet some "undercover" atheists in their twenties and thirties.
Atheism, considered blasphemy by many, is a largely underground movement that's hard to quantify but increasingly reported among millennials.
Atheists come together in private on WhatsApp groups and use pseudonyms on social media sites to share ideas.
The Nigerian population of nearly 200 million is split almost evenly between Muslims and Christians with sizeable followers of traditional spirituality.
"As a clergyman, this makes me sad that today we have people in Nigeria going in for atheism," Gideon Obasogie, a Roman Catholic cleric tells A Jazeera. "The effect of this will be terrible. For one who says there is no God, he can do all kinds of horrible things … I feel this will lead to anarchy and chaos. The rise of atheism in Nigeria is not wonderful news."
In recent months, Nigerian atheists have registered three pro-secular organisations: Atheist Society of Nigeria, the Northern Nigerian Humanist Association and the Nigerian Secular Society.
"We need these organisations as a space for people to come out," says Mubarak Bala, who helped to register the groups.
Bala attracted media attention in 2014 after being admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Kano by his parents when they found out he was atheist.
He says his father and uncles held him down for 30 minutes and forced him to take medications given by the psychiatrist, who told him "everyone needs God".
"People began secretly contacting me, telling me that they too, don't believe in Allah. Even Christians told me they don't think Jesus is God and they just have questions about the whole religion thing," Bala said.
Most keep their beliefs secret.
Bala is the only atheist who allowed Al Jazeera to use his real name.
Al Jazeera travelled to three cities - Kano, Kaduna and Abuja - to meet some "undercover" atheists in their twenties and thirties.
Kenneth: 'My family told me I am possessed'
"I grew up a rebel. I grew up a black sheep in the family. If I go to church, I go because I am forced to go to church.
I've never believed anything, so at a point, the pastor of the church I was attending with my family told me that I am possessed with an evil spirit because I was always questioning God and the Bible.
As an atheist in Nigeria, you will be ostracised.
Up to today, I have many people who keep their distance from me simply because I ask a lot of critical questions about religion. Many of them don't even know I'm now an atheist."
Jiddah: 'I realised Islam didn't have my interest as a woman'
"I've always had questions, unanswered questions right from childhood.
It's not like I was the ideal Muslim girl, because I did a lot of things that Islam did not permit me to do such as wearing men's clothing - meaning trousers - going clubbing, having premarital sex.
Basically, I realised Islam didn't really have my interest as a woman. As a child at the Islamic school, I would always ask, 'Where is God? Why can't we see him or her?'
What I got was a beating, serious flogging because you shouldn't ask such questions.
The breakthrough came I guess when I met Mubarak [Bala]. I found him on Facebook and I sent him a friend request.
(Note: Before receiving death threats, Jiddah said she would use the site to criticise Islam and had 8,000 followers. She has now closed her account.)
Then, we began to talk about religion. Mubarak would say, 'It's just like me telling you there's a cat right here and you can't see it. Why would you believe anything like that?'
So gradually, I just rid myself of that belief in God and it's been liberating.
But it's heartbreaking because you really want to talk to your friends about these things and explain to them because you want them to feel what you feel. But you just can't."
Shehu: 'A scholar can declare you an apostate'
"In Islam, I used to see stuff that didn't correspond with reality. I tried to study Islam but I kept seeing more and more things that I just couldn't believe I was reading.
I went to school in Malaysia and learned about intellectualism and what I learned blew my mind. I was learning about science that broke down the myths of religion. Things just became clear.
I came out and told my father, thinking he would understand. It backfired.
We come from an Islamic royal family in northern Nigeria.
My dad, he went to the NGO I was working at. He was a board member and told them to fire me. So they did.
Then he brought a woman for me to marry so I could just conform and be normal.
My dad prevents me from telling anyone about my beliefs. Here in Nigeria, a Mallam - a respected Islamic scholar - can declare you an apostate as an atheist and order you to be killed, just like that. So I'm undercover."
Peter: 'Why is it that Christianity had to come through conquest?'
"My mother was quite religious. Every Sunday, we'd go to a Catholic church.
The religion, Christianity itself, came in through several tools. Slavery, colonialism and of course, the subtle colonialism, which is missionary style.
So my question has always been, why is it that something that I need had to come through in such an inhumane way? Why is it that it had to come through conquest?
Some people were put to the sword and they had to take it whether they liked it or not.
For my safety … if folks find out I'm an atheist, I could lose out on work opportunities (Peter is an IT professional). If people here in Nigeria find out I'm atheist, I think that would be the death of my reputation. Religion is a scam."
Freeman: 'The killings here over religion do not help'
"The killings that happen so much here in Nigeria over religion do not help.
I came back home one day from school and I learned that a lot of houses had been brought down by our people, Muslims, just thinking that they did that for God.
I watched somebody being burned to death on the road. I was coming back from school. I actually had friends, my Muslim friends, who went out to kill Christians and they asked me to join them and they actually believe they were doing it for God.
They said it's God's wish. They said that's what God wants them to do and that it's also what the Quran says. It really makes me upset."
Nasir: 'My father said I should leave or he'll kill me'
"I am against Islam entirely. Not just the way it's practised, but against it fully.
My parents, they know I don't believe in God.
My father is an Islamic scholar and one day he called me and my mum, and he asked if it was true, [if] what he was hearing about me being an atheist is true. I said yes.
So, he brought out a knife. He wanted to kill me. I was telling him, 'Wait let me explain to you.'
He said, 'How can you explain to me?'
I was scared actually and we were struggling, me and him. Then my mother seized the knife. My father said I should leave the house or he'll kill me at night. So I left the house and started living at my workplace.
My father sent me away and then a relative talked to him and told him I changed my mind and told him that I'm no longer an atheist. But my father knows that's not true.
Some of my relatives keep me away from their children because they say I will corrupt them."
Ayuba: 'It would break my mother's heart if she knew'
"My mother will call me and say, 'Have you been giving your tithes to the church?'
Like, if you don't pay, then you're stealing from God and God will punish you for that. So, it's like a way of indoctrinating people, trying to put fear in people.
I grew up in ECWA (Evangelical Church Winning All, formerly known as Evangelical Church of West Africa).
The whole story of the Bible and creation, I don't know. My mother, it would break her heart if she knew I am atheist."
"I told my father that I don't believe in prayers any more. He was grooming me to become a mallam, an Islamic scholar, like him.
He never encouraged me to go to Western schools. Even when I went to university, I just did it on my own.
He started preaching against me a few years ago.
He's an Islamic scholar so people listen to him. Him preaching against me, you know, someone could take action to harm me.
In his sermons, he would say, 'Just imagine, my son went to Western school so now he believes there is no creator. He thinks he is smarter than all of us and he gets his notions from a computer,' because he used to see me on the computer.
I see my father and other religious people as victims of their beliefs. I had to stop going to my family house."
He never encouraged me to go to Western schools. Even when I went to university, I just did it on my own.
He started preaching against me a few years ago.
He's an Islamic scholar so people listen to him. Him preaching against me, you know, someone could take action to harm me.
In his sermons, he would say, 'Just imagine, my son went to Western school so now he believes there is no creator. He thinks he is smarter than all of us and he gets his notions from a computer,' because he used to see me on the computer.
I see my father and other religious people as victims of their beliefs. I had to stop going to my family house."
These interviews were edited for clarity and length.
All of the interviewees' names, aside from those in the introduction, have been changed to protect their safety. They also requested their ages were not published, out of fear of being identified.
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