How young Nigerians living with HIV are struggling with stigma

Ngozi was 28 when she learned she was HIV-positive. For months, she battled constant weakness and recurring fevers. A routine blood test sent her to the hospital. When the nurse called her in, she saw the truth on their uneasy faces. Something was wrong. 

“They told me gently, but it felt like the ground had opened beneath me,” Ngozi recalls. “I was numb at first, then I started crying uncontrollably. The only thought in my head was, my life is over.” 

Back home, she confided in her elder sister, the one person she trusted the most. At first, her sister hugged her and promised, “we’ll figure it out together.” But the closeness soon faded. Weeks later, Ngozi noticed a change in her sister. She no longer shared utensils, avoided hugs, and even moved away when sitting beside her.   

That fear of rejection soon shaped Ngozi’s future. She lost the chance to marry the man she loved. His family believed someone with HIV could never have healthy children. She also turned down a foreign scholarship because it required a medical test. 

“I didn’t want my status to become an obstacle or a topic of gossip,” she says. “Even now, I avoid certain jobs that require health screening.” 

Nigeria’s HIV reality

Nigeria carries the world’s third-largest HIV burden. According to UNAIDS Nigeria has about two million people living with the virus. Dr. Temitope Ilori, the director-general of Nigeria’s National Agency for the Control of AIDS (NACA), says around 1.6 million of them are on treatment. Yet, the World Health Organisation (WHO) warns that many Nigerians remain unaware of their status.

Nigeria’s national HIV prevalence stands at 1.4% among people aged 15-64 years. UNAIDS data shows that about 160,000 children aged 0-14 are living with the virus. The data also shows 22,000 new infections and 15,000 AIDS-related deaths each year.

Despite progress in treatment, stigma continues to undermine efforts. A study by the National Library of Medicine shows that people living with HIV in Nigeria still face exclusion. Friends refuse to shake hands, share meals, or sit close. The study found that stigma is more common among young people and married individuals. It is also common among those without formal education, and people with lower incomes.

Queen Adegoke, a sexual and reproductive health expert, says 'silent exclusion' is the most harmful form of stigma. “Much of it is fuelled by misinformation,” she explains. “Many still believe HIV spreads through sharing plates or sitting beside someone. Sometimes, cultural and religious beliefs make people think HIV is a punishment for immoral behavior.”

Stigma bites harder than the virus 

Kunle, 31, a married man in Nigeria’s corporate sector, first felt the sting of stigma when he lost a job after a pre-employment medical test.

“They didn’t hire me because of my HIV status,” he recounted. “I wish the company had been more professional, instead of quietly removing me from the process. That experience only deepened the stigma I already face.” 

Although his wife tested negative, his diagnosis strained their marriage despite counselling. At work, he hides when taking his medication. He has even refused overseas training because of the required medical checks. After his status was known, his team lead began excluding him from high-profile projects. The excuse given was that he “travels too often to the hospital.”

“The discrimination hurt even more when a colleague made an HIV joke during a meeting. All this while looking right at me,” Kunle says. “This is really affecting my mental health in ways I can’t describe. I only keep moving forward because of my wife and kid.”  

Ngozi also faced rejection. A colleague who had been her close friend stopped sharing meals with her after learning she was HIV-positive.

For Janet, a 21-year-old university student, rejection came from the very people who were supposed to protect her.

After testing positive, her family disowned her. “My parents said they don’t want to have anything to do with me again,” she recalls. “Out of my three siblings, it’s only my younger sister that still takes my calls.”

Breaking the silence

Experts say stigma and discrimination are the main reasons people avoid testing, delay treatment, or stop taking their medication.

“Stigma stops young people from getting tested, starting treatment, or sharing their status,” says Amaka Anya, who works in a hospital’s ART section. “Many fear being rejected by society, so they stay silent. That silence often harms their health.” 

"Nigeria urgently needs stronger enforcement of anti-discrimination laws in schools, workplaces, and hospitals. These should come with strict penalties for those who break them," says Adegoke. Confidentiality must be guaranteed, she stresses. 

Teaching about HIV in schools from an early age can help a generation see it as a health issue, not a moral failing, she adds.

For people like Ngozi, Kunle, and Janet, that shift cannot come soon enough. Until then, they continue to live not just with the virus, but with the heavy weight of stigma. 

“I feel like my whole identity is reduced to HIV positive,” Ngozi says. “It’s like people forget I have dreams, skills, and a personality beyond the virus.” 

*The names of people living with HIV in this story have been changed to protect their privacy.

HIV in focus

This news story has been published as part of our HIV in focus news network. This is a network of writers and journalists from focus countries, dedicated to delivering news on HIV and sexual health. The network aims to amplify the voices of communities most affected by HIV and share the stories that matter to them.

About the writer

John Chukwu is a Nigerian freelance journalist reporting on politics, climate and environmental justice, health, technology, media, development, and human rights across sub-Saharan Africa. His work, often focused on grassroots voices and underreported communities, has appeared in several international publications.