The adoption of Western models of Pride celebration, though well-intentioned, is unnecessary and potentially counterproductive in Nigeria as it doesn’t take into consideration our unique cultural and historical contexts. Pride, as celebrated in the West, is rooted in a very specific historical and cultural context and Pride celebrations in Western countries are a tribute to this history. The symbols and modes of celebration are not universally resonant as they reflect the experiences and struggles of a particular community in a specific part of the world. Since queer people are not a monolithic group, and a myriad of issues affect different segments of LGBTQIA+ people in the world, importing this Western model wholesale into Nigeria not only overlooks the complex realities and history of our own queer community but also risks perpetuating alienation and exclusion due to factors such as class and location, and inadvertently creates more discord amongst LGBTQIA+ Nigerians.  

Queer identities in Nigeria are fluid and evolving, influenced by indigenous cultures and unique local histories. To impose a Western framework of Pride on this identity is to disregard the rich cultural experiences that make up our queer community. It also risks alienating those for whom the Western narrative of Pride does not resonate.  

The celebration of queer identities in Nigeria should emerge organically from our own context and experiences, not be imposed from outside. This is a long-standing problem that cannot be fully explored in this article; however, perhaps what we need is a deeper understanding of what it means to live and exist as a queer person in Nigeria. This requires us to learn Nigeria’s queer history, to understand the stories of our queer ancestors, their struggles, and how these shape our aspirations. It means recognizing and honouring the contributions of those who have fought for LGBTQIA+ rights in Nigeria, even if their actions did not make headlines. Only then can we begin to envision a form of celebration that is authentic to our context. 

Such a celebration might look very different from Western Pride parades. It could be more understated, more community-focused, and more integrated into the broader fabric of Nigerian society. It might involve private gatherings, cultural events, or initiatives that promote education and awareness rather than public parades and commercialized merchandise. For instance, there are night raves and community house parties that occur regularly and provide a space for queer people to exist, bond, and heal through the power of music. Cities like Lagos, Abuja, and Port Harcourt have always had a vibrant ballroom culture that embody the nuances of ballroom beyond mainstream Western representations, offering community for queer individuals rejected by their families. SS24 and other queer filmmakers host movie nights showcasing indie films that portray queerness authentically. The Initiative for Equal Rights organizes a monthly Open House, where queer people can engage in relaxing activities like playing games, watching movies, performing open mic poetry, or singing karaoke. Additionally, every day through fashion and more overt means queer youths protest policies that infringe on their rights.  

It would seem that for us, we can and do celebrate Pride regularly, we just don’t call it that. Queer Nigerians have always created spaces where we feel seen, heard, celebrated, and respected in ways that resonate with our lived experiences. This is a significant victory and something to take pride in. The fact that these spaces don’t resemble public marches with international media coverage or corporate sponsorship does not make them any less valid⎈