Ah, the great Nigerian condom-buying experience—a true test of bravery, wit, and sometimes, your ability to keep a straight face while pretending you came to the pharmacy for paracetamol.
Let’s be real. If you're sexually active, you should be able to buy condoms with your full chest, shoulders squared, and head held high. But no, not in Nigeria. Here, buying a condom can feel like committing a crime in broad daylight. Why? Because the moment you step into that pharmacy, supermarket, or roadside kiosk, every eye suddenly turns to you with silent judgment. It’s as if an invisible alarm goes off—“Sinner Alert! Sinner Alert!”
The real struggle begins when you finally approach the counter. You lower your voice, mumble something about “that thing,” and pray the attendant understands your coded language. But no, the cashier is either an elderly woman who gives you a disapproving side-eye or a younger guy who decides to be mischievous.
Cashier: "Oga, speak louder na. What do you want?"
You: (whispers) "Condom."
Cashier: "Which one? We have strawberry, banana, extra-thin, ribbed for pleasure, long-lastin—"
You: (dying inside) "Just give me anyone abeg!"
If you’re a woman? Ah, double wahala. People might just start calling a prayer session on your behalf.
Why Are We Still Here in 2025?
In a world where self-driving cars exist and AI is writing entire books, why do Nigerians still treat condom buying like an undercover drug deal? Let’s break it down:
1. Religion: The Holy Guilt Trip
Nigeria is one of the most religious countries on Earth, and both Christianity and Islam preach abstinence before marriage. This means that sex is supposed to be that thing that just magically happens on your wedding night with no prior experience or protection. The idea of walking into a store and boldly picking up a condom? Blasphemy! Many Nigerians have been conditioned to believe that buying condoms equals planning sin, and sin, as we all know, is a one-way ticket to judgment day.
2. The Judgmental Pharmacy Experience
Nigerians have a PhD in judging strangers, and this skill is best displayed at pharmacies. The second you pick up that condom pack, the cashier suddenly becomes your morality police. Even the old man waiting behind you for Panadol Extra will shake his head like, “Youth of nowadays!” It’s even worse when the pharmacist decides to ask unnecessary questions.
Pharmacist: "Do you want the one that enhances pleasure or the regular one?"
At this point, you are sweating. You just want to disappear into thin air, but you know you need this protection, so you endure the embarrassment like a soldier in battle.
3. Sex Education? What’s That?
Most Nigerian schools teach “sex education” in the form of “If you have sex, you will get pregnant and die.”
That’s it. No conversations about protection, STIs, or safe sex practices. Just pure fear-mongering. The result? Many young people grow up knowing nothing about condoms except that they should be ashamed of using them. The stigma is so deep-rooted that even married couples sometimes feel awkward buying protection because, in many households, contraception is never discussed openly.
4. Gender Bias: Women, Hide Your Face!
Men might get side-eye glances when they buy condoms, but when a woman does it? Ha! Society is ready to declare her the ambassador of fornication.
Imagine a woman walks into a pharmacy and confidently asks for a pack of condoms. The cashier might just stop mid-counting to stare, and other customers may suddenly start coughing uncomfortably.
Random Auntie in Line: “Young lady, why are you buying this?”
Woman: “Because I have sex and I don’t want problems.”
Ah! The uproar! People will start looking around as if waiting for the heavens to strike her down immediately. But let’s be real—shouldn’t we be praising her for taking responsibility for her health rather than shaming her?
So, What’s the Solution?
Nigeria needs to have grown-up conversations about sex and contraception. Here’s how we can change the narrative:
Normalize Buying Condoms: Pharmacies and supermarkets should create self-service sections where people can grab condoms without fear of judgment. Also, cashiers, please—mind your business! No side-eye, no unnecessary questions.
Sex Education Needs a Major Upgrade: Schools and religious organizations should provide proper sex education. Let’s move past the “don’t do it” lecture and talk about safe sex, consent, and reproductive health.
Public Awareness Campaigns: We need bold, unfiltered campaigns that encourage safe sex without shame. Billboards, social media influencers, even Nollywood movies—every platform should be involved in normalizing conversations about contraception.
Men, Stand Up for Women Buying Condoms: If a woman feels comfortable enough to buy protection, support her! Society should stop this nonsense of making women feel ashamed for taking control of their reproductive health.
Final Thoughts: Buy Your Condoms with Pride!
Buying condoms is not a crime. In fact, it’s one of the most responsible things a sexually active person can do. So the next time you walk into a pharmacy, pick up that pack with confidence, throw in some chewing gum (because, why not?), and pay without shame. If the cashier dares to judge you, just smile and say, "At least I won’t be calling you in nine months for baby food."
What’s your own experience buying condoms in Nigeria? Share your stories—let’s laugh and learn together!