From Banana Fibres to Sanitary Pads: Nigerian Men Lead Fight Against Period Poverty

By Ajifa Solomon and Imaobong Dem

The eyes of 120 students of Girls’ Model Secondary School, Plateau State, in Central Nigeria, lingered on the young man standing before them on the assembly ground one chilly morning in October 2024. Curiously, they waited to hear what he had to say.

“I’m here to talk to you about menstruation,” the young man said. What followed was a loud hush. Then murmurs. It was unheard of. A man was coming to talk about the ‘unmentionable?’ It was the first time most of the girls were hearing a man speak openly about menstruation. When he finished, he surprised them even more by handing out sanitary pads. 

Across Nigeria and much of Africa, menstruation remains shrouded in stigma, discussed only in whispers. Many men see it as a woman’s affair; a taboo for men to discuss it openly. For example, on October 4, 2025, a Twitter user declared that “the world doesn’t need to know you are on your period, we need to bring back shame.” The statement sparked a week-long debate about what is considered shameful or “dirty”.

Yet, men’s decisions often determine whether girls can access menstrual products, attend school comfortably, or speak about their needs without fear.

This culture of silence is what Jighjigh Nyam, the young man on the assembly ground, set out to challenge. And he is not alone. Men across Nigeria are rising to blur the faultlines, leading campaigns for the dignity of the girl child through menstrual education and the provision of skills for reusable pads production.

Why it matters

The stigma around menstruation often goes to period poverty, mirroring a national crisis where an estimated 37 million Nigerian women and girls are affected. It shows that the affected women cannot access or afford menstrual products. Similarly, a 2022 factsheet by UNICEF indicated that 23 per cent of Nigerian girls missed learning due to lack of adequate menstrual products, stigma, inadequate school facilities, and poor menstrual knowledge.

Growing up among five sisters exposed Nyam early to the realities of womanhood through conversations about cramps, stains, and the shame that often came with them. He never understood why society tried to make women feel embarrassed about their bodies.

Through the Literacy Empowerment Foundation, a youth-led organisation he founded to tackle issues affecting education, hygiene, and gender equality, Nyam visits schools, hosts seminars to drive conversations around healthy menstrual practices, and breaks stigma. He also hosts pad distribution events to curb period poverty

“Having sisters helped me see it as normal,” he said. “That is why part of what I want to do is talk about women’s health. I always found it strange that society tried to shame women for everything.”

One of the students listening to Nyam at the assembly ground was Veirat Gwong. “I was always embarrassed about my periods. Even talking about it with my friends made me feel shy,” she said. 

The rising cost of menstrual pads, which has doubled in the last two years, has only made things worse, forcing many girls, especially in rural communities and urban slums, to use tissues or rags under unhygienic conditions. For Veirat and her classmates, menstruation often means discomfort, missed classes, and embarrassment.

Though happy as she clutched the pack of pads Nyam gave her at the assembly ground for her next period, a nagging thought crept into Veirat’s mind: ‘What happens when this pad gets finished? Where will I get the next one from?’

Nyam, who has reached over 2,000 girls with his message on menstrual health and hygiene since 2023, is familiar with these questions. He admits that merely distributing one-off use pads is not a sustainable solution to tackling period poverty. Thankfully,  where his ability and network end in the fight against menstrual poverty is where another man’s fight begins.

Turning banana fibres into pads

Hundreds of kilometres away in Nigeria’s South-South, Victoria Adams sits behind a sewing machine in a small tailoring shop in Uyo, the Akwa Ibom State capital. Brows furrowed, her hands moved deftly to the rhythmic tone of the sewing machine’s spinning wheel. 

On the table before her lie soft banana-fibre wools and neatly cut fabrics. She places a layer of absorbent wool made from the banana fibres between two pieces of cloth, smooths the edges, and guides it under the humming needle of the sewing equipment. She repeats the motion until she is satisfied with the finished product. 

She has just made a reusable menstrual pad, and for the first time in months, she won’t have to worry about where the next one will come from. 

Victoria learned the art of reusable pad-making from Haruna Mohammed, a biochemistry graduate, whose initiative focuses on teaching women and girls how to make reusable sanitary pads from locally available materials, including banana fibres. 

The reusable pads are valuable resources, most especially for communities adversely impacted by period poverty.

“Many girls can’t afford the pads sold on the mainland,” said Lady Maureen, the women’s leader of Okoritak in Ibeno Local Government Area, an island in Akwa Ibom. Even getting there means paying for a boat ride. “The few stores around here sell at very high prices. As a result, girls and women are forced to use rags, pieces of wrappers, and other unhygienic materials as alternatives.”

Mohammed’s Journey began with learning the unique skill of crafting reusable sanitary pads from banana fibres in 2018, during the time he spent at research laboratories in Benin, Edo State.

He realised that the solution to what girls in Okoritak and other remote communities face might, in fact, lie in this humble local resource—banana fibres—often discarded by farmers after harvest. For Mohammed, what is waste to farmers is an essential raw material. He actively sources these fibres from local cultivators and transforms them into affordable, sustainable, reusable pads that can last for months.

“In banana cultivation, stems of banana fibres are usually thrown away, which causes a lot of environmental challenges, but what would have been a waste is used to create economic value to serve humanity,” Mohammed explained, as the tiny pieces of chopped banana fibres hit a bowl placed on a table in his Uyo factory.

Mohammed employs a detailed multi-step process of transforming the coarse fibres into soft sanitary wools. After soaking the chopped fibres in the bowl with a reagent for 8 hours to remove any chemical constituents, the fibres are thoroughly washed and boiled. 

A crusher, a local grinding machine, is then used to grind the processed fibres and air dried, before it is run through a specialised machine that converts it into the final products: soft wools. These wools are the layable materials on the fabric casings, which are cut in plus-sized shapes and sewn with machines into reusable sanitary pads. 

Mohammed’s knowledge sharing on sanitary pad production is embedded in his waste-to-wealth initiative, an arm of his production company known as Maso Green, which he uses to drive green solutions. He connects with community leaders and foundations who collaborate to drive the free training sessions. On the other hand, the innovator trains some women individually. 

Young women like Victoria, who was worried about the scarcity and availability of sanitary pads until she met Mohammed, are helping to impact other girls around them with their skills. Having mastered the process, she now supports family members and her workers with the pads. 

Mohammed collaborates with local tailors like her, who have previously participated in his training sessions and also serve as facilitators at his training. 

This sourcing strategy and process allow for cost-effective production. He estimates that 300 reusable pads can be made from one banana fibre stem, adding that using these fibres to create absorbent wools, women can access the sanitary products at highly affordable rates. 

“Except for other factors of production, including the transportation of the processed fibres to Zaria in Kaduna state for conversion to skin-friendly wools, the reusable pads cost ₦300 per piece,” Mohammed noted. 

So far, across eight communities in Edo and Akwa Ibom states, Mohammed has trained over 80 women. He is keen on reaching Nigeria’s 774 local government areas, an ambition he affirms is a bulky task. But he hopes that through his step-down training, the task is achievable.

Still, he faces significant logistical and resource challenges, including limited capacity for local production. The crucial machine that converts fibre materials into cotton for reusable pads is currently unavailable in the region.

This forces him to transport raw materials from Uyo to the far northwestern region in Zaria for conversion before the finished products can be assembled. Furthermore, a lack of resources means that many trainees cannot practice their newly acquired skills afterwards.

Establishing a major facility to convert fibres into cotton for the reusable pads is part of his short-term plan, bearing in mind that producing reusable pads is an urgent need for humanity and womanhood, specifically to curb the reproductive health complications that affect girls.

This unique intervention, where men are at the forefront of tackling period poverty, is inspiring a behavioural change among other men, an intriguing development in a region that formerly cared less. 

This story was made possible by Nigeria Health Watch with support from the Solutions Journalism Network, a non-profit organisation dedicated to rigorous and compelling reporting about responses to social problems.