He has sat across from presidents, celebrities, and survivors. He has coaxed the most vulnerable stories out of some of Nigeria’s most guarded names. And all along, quietly, privately, he was living with a story of his own — one that his own doctor had told him to keep hidden.

That story is now fully in the open.

Nigerian media entrepreneur and television host Chude Jideonwo has opened up about living with Tourette syndrome, describing the condition as one that can make the body feel “out of control” while also highlighting the stigma surrounding it in Africa. He disclosed this during a recent interview with BBC News Africa, where he reflected on his diagnosis and the challenges of speaking publicly about the neurological disorder.

The honesty with which he speaks about it is striking — and deliberate.

“When I was diagnosed, my doctor warned me not to talk about it in public, that people were going to judge me, especially in Africa, which made me sad. But it also shows why people are not speaking out about it,” he said.

That silence, he explains, has a cost. For years, Nigerians living with conditions like Tourette’s had nowhere to turn, no public figure to point to, no language to describe what they were experiencing as anything other than spiritual failure.

“If you watch Nigerian movies, the representations of people with Tourette’s are usually that they are demon-possessed or there’s something wrong with them,” Jideonwo said, placing a cultural mirror in front of a society that has long struggled to create space for neurological difference.

He was not spared that confusion himself. For years, Jideonwo struggled with unexplained twitching, vocal tics and compulsive behaviours that doctors repeatedly dismissed as being “in his head.” It was only after a neurologist carefully examined his symptoms that he received clarity. “What I had was Tourette’s Syndrome,” he says.

A friend had apparently told him it could be Tourette’s a while before his diagnosis, but though the symptoms fit, he didn’t take it seriously — it sounded too “foreign.”

The description he gives of living with the condition is visceral. “I began to notice Tourette’s syndrome in my late 20s consciously. Tourette syndrome is a neurological condition where it feels like your body misfires, where it feels like your body is out of your control in physical ways. The movement ticks, the vocal ticks. Corporeal, I had it very mild. So what it is that I repeat words constantly,” he explained.

Managing it in public, he says, requires an enormous amount of mental effort that most people around him never see. “Previously, I used to say the F word a lot, F, F, F, F, F, F. I was doing it compulsively. I manage it by just being under pressure. So if I’m in public and not speaking, it’s because I’m holding myself back. I’m using my entire mind to hold myself. The second way to cope is just to say it out loud. Once I say it out, people understand the embarrassment, and the awkwardness goes down,” he said.

“I remember telling the doctor that I don’t feel comfortable in my own body, and that I feel like my body is not my own,” Jideonwo revealed.

The BAFTA controversy earlier this year made the conversation even more urgent for him personally. Jideonwo linked the issue of public misunderstanding to the controversy at the BAFTA Film Awards 2026, where an activist, John Davidson, involuntarily shouted a racial slur during the ceremony — an incident later attributed to Tourette’s syndrome. “It broke my heart deeply to see what happened at the BAFTAs. It just showed me how much work still needs to be done. When someone nominated for a BAFTA award was judged so harshly, I just thought, ah God, we need a world with more empathy and where we suspend judgement until we know what people are really going through,” he said.

In his memoir How Depression Saved My Life, Jideonwo reflects on the relief that came with understanding what he was facing. The diagnosis helped him see that many of the behaviours he had battled privately — involuntary twitching, sudden words or sounds, obsessive repetitions and intense anxiety — were not character flaws but symptoms of a neurological condition. Understanding the condition helped reduce the emotional tension around it and allowed him to begin managing it through therapy, self-awareness and compassion for himself.

His message to anyone going through something similar — diagnosed or not, understood or dismissed — is characteristically direct. “My advice is: If you feel it, then it’s valid, you no dey craze and even if you dey craze, it’s still valid. If it doesn’t feel right then it probably isn’t right because you’re the one in your body.”

By sharing his story publicly, he hopes to challenge stigma around neurological and mental health conditions and remind people that difference should never be a cause for shame. “Normal is a loaded word,” he writes. “Instead of shaming those who are different, we should create a world where difference is accepted with the same ease as sameness.”

Chude Jideonwo has spent his career giving other people a platform to tell their most difficult truths. Now, at last, he has taken the seat himself. And Nigeria is listening.

Before the hits, before the convoys, before the fame — there was a young man packing noodles on a factory floor for ₦20,000 a month, trying to survive Lagos. That man is Bella Shmurda, and he’s not hiding it.

The ‘Cash App’ singer has been making headlines for a deeply candid interview that has had Nigerians talking, not just because of where he came from, but because of what he nearly lost after he made it.

In a now-viral appearance on YouTuber Korty EO’s platform, Bella Shmurda opened up about a difficult period in his career when poor financial choices almost pushed him into bankruptcy, revealing that the excitement of sudden fame led him into a lifestyle of excessive spending and misplaced priorities.

But to understand how far he fell, you need to understand where he started. Before “Vision 2020” changed his life overnight, Bella was earning ₦20,000 monthly packing noodles at Dangote’s factory in Lagos — a back-breaking routine that ended in the most traumatic of ways. A colleague fell from the roof of the factory building into steaming industrial oil while cleaning. It was a Saturday morning, and the tragedy was instant. Bella quit on the spot and never returned.

That experience — raw, dangerous, and defining — lit a fire under him. Music became the only way out, and when it finally paid off, the floodgates opened in more ways than one.

“I used to have a lot of money but I rushed things. I wish I was wise then. I was just buying things extravagantly, things I eventually had no need for. At this point, as I am getting new money, I have to think about every move I want to take. I was accommodating up to ten of my friends back then and we were all receiving female visitors. I bought three cars at once just so that my friends would go out with me in convoy. I was reckless,” he admitted.

Let that sink in. Three cars at once — not for himself, but so his friends could move in convoy. That sentence alone tells you everything about the pressure young Nigerian artists face when the money comes. It’s not just about spending — it’s about proving to everyone around you that you made it, and dragging your whole circle with you.

Shmurda’s desire to live big and carry everyone along came at a steep price. He accommodated as many as ten friends, funded their outings, and purchased multiple cars at once just to maintain a certain image.

The near-collapse was a wake-up call he says he desperately needed. Today, Bella Shmurda appears more focused on sustainability and long-term planning, signalling a more mature approach to both his career and personal finances as he continues to evolve in the Nigerian music scene.

He’s also using his platform to make sure others don’t repeat his mistakes. Bella Shmurda urged his colleagues and fans to manage their money with wisdom to avoid bankruptcy and learning the hard way.

There’s something deeply refreshing about an artist who will sit in front of a camera and say “I was reckless” without dressing it up. No spin. No PR gloss. Just the truth. From ₦20k a month and factory grease on his hands, to millions — and almost back to zero — Bella Shmurda’s story is one of the most honest things you’ll hear from a Nigerian celebrity this year.

He survived the factory. He survived the broke days. He survived his own excesses. Now he’s just determined not to make the same mistakes twice.

Nigerian singer and songwriter, , has opened up about a bold decision he made at a young age, revealing that he left home at 19 to fully pursue his passion for music.

The “Love Nwantiti” crooner shared this during a recent conversation, where he reflected on his early struggles and determination to succeed in the music industry.

According to CKay, the move was not an easy one, but it was necessary for him to focus on building his career and finding his path in music. He explained that the decision came from a deep belief in his talent and a strong desire to make something meaningful out of his life.

The singer also spoke about the challenges he faced during that period, including uncertainty and the pressure of chasing success without a guaranteed outcome. However, he remained committed to his craft, which eventually paid off.

Today, CKay is recognized as one of Nigeria’s successful music exports, with his sound gaining global attention and his songs topping charts across different countries.

His story has since inspired many young Nigerians, showing that taking risks and staying dedicated to one’s passion can lead to great achievements.