Chude Jideonwo’s How Depression Saved My Life is weighed down by an identity crisis.
The subtitle on the book’s cover places it in the memoir category, but the writing leans towards the self-help vein.
There is no denying that memoirs can be multifaceted. Phil Knight’s Shoe Dog is just as much a lesson on entrepreneurship as it is an autobiography of the founder of sportswear giant, Nike, and The Autobiography of Malcolm X is equally an argument for Black consciousness and a record of its subject’s life.
In How Depression Saved My Life, author Chude Jideonwo narrates how a major depressive episode led to a diagnosis of Tourette syndrome, and ultimately sparked a life-altering journey to self-enlightenment.
Memoirs typically make a strong impression on readers when their authors are able to blend their emotional experiences into the chronological aspects of their lives.
Jideonwo leans into this rule, but then, as if looking to validate his struggles, he constantly makes reference to the experiences of various celebrity guests who have graced his #WithChude talk show. In social interactions, he would be called a name-dropper. In print, these insertions come off as cross-promotion and shortchange the book’s efficacy as a memoir.
An avowed bibliophile, he has scoured the annals of neuroscience, philosophy, productivity, psychology and religion, and fashioned a personal self-help curriculum.
Regrettably, he makes the error endemic to novice thesis writers who think padding their prose with quotations from their literature review will impress, if not make up for scanty synthesis. Another rookie mistake is the book’s incomplete bibliography, which renders some of his citations untraceable. Is his editorial team oblivious of reference management software like Zotero and Mendeley?
Technical gaffes notwithstanding, Jideonwo is no bumbling idiot. No one achieves the kind of success he has attained — an extensive career in media, consulting jobs for multinationals and the political elite in several African countries, a teaching position at the Pan-Atlantic University and prestigious fellowships at Yale and the London School of Economics — without being a master strategist.
Unarguably, he possesses an impressive CV but none of his credentials, never mind the experience of depression and impressive reading habits qualify him to take on the kind of high-profile role in mental health leadership he is clearly gunning for.
In his book, he offers a few emotional and psychological wellbeing management tips that have worked for him, but then, optimises his readers’ attention to pitch Joy, Inc., an enterprise offering more wellness-themed products and services. It is almost like watching the newly married embark on a career in matchmaking or the successful dieter rebrand as a nutrition coach.
Worldwide, wellness is a burgeoning economy. An estimated 20% of Nigerians experience mental health issues, and with worsening socio-economic conditions, that number is bound to increase.
Already, only less than 10% of the affected population have access to treatment so there is room for private establishments to contribute to destigmatising mental health and providing standardised care.
This l, however, presents an ethical challenge. In a poorly regulated environment such as Nigeria, how safe is your psychological wellbeing when entrusted to profit makers who may prioritise marketing-based treatments over evidence-based medicine?
Jideonwo is quick to list a number of renowned psychologists and psychiatrists who make up his advisory board, but is this evidence of his suitability or his gift of persuasion?
Jideonwo gained notoriety for his role in sanitising Muhammadu Buhari’s public image during the latter’s 2017 presidential campaign, and here, he recycles some of the rhetoric he employed then into painting a flattering self-portrait of himself as a born-again, tongue-praying, albeit rational, liberal-leaning Christian in whose presence the most stoic unburden their secrets and tears. In essence, the living embodiment of a safe space.
Like any salesman worth his salt, he knows his real product is trustworthiness. Always multiple steps ahead, he anticipates scrutiny and attempts to allay doubts by highlighting his proximity to influential figures, his career successes, his unconventionality, and where convenient, his vulnerabilities. His trump card is an appeal to divine authority. Like an Old Testament patriarch, the book’s title and outline were revealed to him by God. In a dream, no less.
The author is, of course, just as entitled to his conviction as this reviewer is to her skepticism. How Depression Saved My Life purports to be a contribution to the gospel of self-discovery but what I find is a sophisticated marketing deck filled with psychobable for Jideonwo’s business ventures.
Caveat emptor.
***Akumbu Uche is a writer and storyteller from Nigeria. Her works have been published by thelagosreview.ng, Aké Review, Brittle Paper, Canthius, The Cincinnati Review, and elsewhere.
