We Hardly Talk About the Silent Storm After Childbirth – Blessing Makanjuola

When Blessing Makanjuola first became a mother, she expected joy, sleepless nights, and maybe a few emotional swings. What she didn’t expect was the quiet chaos that crept in two weeks after her second delivery — a fog that stole her focus, her laughter, and almost her sense of self.

“I would put food on the fire and forget it completely,” she recalls softly, her eyes dimming at the memory. “By the time I remembered, the whole kitchen would be filled with smoke. I didn’t know that the same thing was happening inside me — I was burning out quietly.”

Blessing, a graduate of Mass Communication who later became a mental health practitioner, had unknowingly slipped into postnatal depression. It was a strange and lonely experience. “Everyone was celebrating the baby, but I was falling apart,” she says. “Childbirth is often described as the most beautiful experience a woman can go through, but what people don’t talk about is the silent storm that sometimes follows.”

At first, she blamed herself. “I thought maybe I wasn’t grateful enough,” she continues. “I had a healthy baby, a supportive husband — so why did I feel sad, empty, and disconnected?”

Her healing began the day she stopped pretending to be strong. “Therapy saved me,” she says. “I realised that strength isn’t silence. It’s knowing when to ask for help.”

Blessing’s experience opened her eyes to how deeply misunderstood maternal mental health is in Nigerian society. “We don’t talk about it because we think good mothers shouldn’t struggle,” she explains. “But the truth is, many mothers are battling in silence — smiling outside, breaking inside.”

Now a passionate mental health advocate, she speaks in schools, churches, and online platforms, urging women to normalise conversations about emotional wellness after childbirth. “We must stop romanticising suffering,” she says firmly. “Mothers don’t need to prove they’re strong by enduring pain. They deserve care, rest, and empathy.”

Her voice, once trembling under the weight of depression, now carries strength and compassion. “I survived my storm,” she says with a gentle smile, “and now I want to help other women find shelter in theirs.”