Written by Mercy Williams
“I always knew I was different, so I gathered small money and ran away from home. Coming from Onitcha to Lagos as a young adult without knowing anyone was scary. But even when I returned to Onitcha years later, I realised home still didn’t feel safe. I still felt like a stranger among my people. So I returned to Lagos, never really feeling like I belonged anywhere…”
– Teresa, on leaving home
Teresa, Tessy or Tes for short, is a survivor, an artist, a dominatrix, a goth, an activist, and a rebel. They have journeyed through life largely holding the lingering feeling of being different and often disconnected from home.
We met last year at a social gathering in the most unusual way. I had gone super late—possibly 2 hours to the end of the programme—and the person I was to attend with got caught up with work, so I was alone. Using the most popular hashtags of the event on Twitter, I tried to find other people who may have been in attendance but, like me, were struggling to make friends or get with the programme due to anxiety. Alas! I came upon her tweets. They were something along the lines of “Is anybody looking to make friends? Social anxiety is killing me…” Out of curiosity, I opened her profile and was met with feelings of mild trepidation because her bio had words like ‘Satanist’, ‘Witch’, ‘Man-eater’, and ‘She/He/They’ and her tweets were filled with rage. The only picture I could find of her was one she took at the event, where she was clad in all-black but still exuded a mysterious radiance.
Because my fascination outweighed my fears, I knew I had to seize the opportunity, so I texted her but didn’t get a response until the programme ended. When she finally saw my message and we connected. Contrary to everything I saw online, in person she was warm, introverted and soft-spoken. Highly perceptive and intelligent, when we discussed, I understood how and why she was a misfit, saw how much holy anger was buried in her tweets and realised that it wasn’t mindless fury – it was activism. Our dialogue was transformative so much so that I made it a point of duty to do further research on the realities faced by sex workers and her other experiences as a non-conformist, and subsequently give her thoughts and works a platform whenever I get the opportunity. Here is Tes’ story:
So, I started working as a dominatrix because many of the people I’ve met in my life always asked why I’m bossy, and when someone said I behave like a dominatrix, I looked it up and I thought it suited me. At first, I was doing it to get the idea of how it works, then later I started charging and created a brand. Being a dominatrix is very different because you control the situation more than if you were just selling sex in other ways. You control what you give, you help people bring their fantasies to life, and you decide how it goes. It’s also a better way to express yourself sexually, discover what you enjoy without necessarily having sex. You can even do it fully clothed, or in any other way, and it’s a preferable part of sex work for me.
The challenges are mostly external, especially with clients wasting time or not being serious. Because it’s a niche service, it’s hard to get clients. When people waste your time, it hurts more because opportunities even come rarely. There’s also safety issues. But fortunately, since I started, I haven’t faced anything physically violent. Just mostly people refusing to pay. I always make sure not to drag situations out; I leave before it gets too messy.
As for police interference in this line of work, especially online, it’s very low. If it were street solicitation, yes, there would be more police involvement. But meeting clients through your phone lowers that risk. The bigger interference is corporate banks and payment processors because, in my opinion, they hate sex workers. And that hatred is ingrained into every facet of society. Sex workers can’t get paid. That’s a real, practical form of discrimination.
Image Caption: Watermarked Collage Of Artworks from Tessy’s Portfolio
Let’s touch on being Gothic. How do you become Goth in Nigeria? What do you enjoy about it? And are there challenges?
I’d say I’ve been Goth all my life without knowing it. I always loved black, weird stuff, horror movies. Anything people said “don’t do”, I wanted to do. Challenging authority, supporting underdogs—that’s Goth to me. I entered fully around 2019–2020. I was already dressing in black, already loving horror, but I didn’t have the accessories or heavy music. But eventually, I started presenting more outwardly with spikes in my fashion and music preferences. Now, with TikTok and social media, Goth culture is more visible in Nigeria. There are even rock and metal events now. Being Gothic is now trendy.
I love that. So how would you describe finding Gothic communities in Nigeria? Easy? Hard?
I only recently started interacting with other Gothic people. Like most things in Nigeria, the challenge is elitism and classism. Some can afford the full Gothic lifestyle; others can’t. And those who can get more recognition. So, you have to be Goth for yourself. Express it for yourself, not to impress the community. That’s what I’ve learnt.
When I found your profile, you were doing activism online by fighting for women, for sex workers, and for minorities. Do you see your activism as survival or something else?
Both. If everybody is free, then you’re free. Liberation benefits everyone. Activism is survival, but it’s also making things better for others. People fought for us to be where we are today, so we should fight for those coming tomorrow. Fifty years ago, people couldn’t imagine gay marriage being legal anywhere. Now it is, even though in Nigeria, it’s still criminalised.
So, my activism is about supporting others’ right to exist. Once freedom becomes normal, everyone benefits. That’s the future.
Love it! Do you feel like you carry deep-seated anger? Or do you just live freely without holding onto much?
I think almost everybody has some anger in them. I do have anger towards the way the world is. Things keep getting worse every day, and it feels like nothing changes. But I don’t let it consume me. I just find my own enjoyment, live my life, and wait for the day I’m gone and the world keeps moving. Online, people rant and vent but then go back to their lives. Nothing really changes. So I wouldn’t say my anger fuels me. Survival does. What keeps me going is just what I’ll eat tomorrow, not anger.
When life feels chaotic, what anchors you?
Food, music, and entertainment. Sometimes reading fairy tales and fictional stories where the bad people get what’s coming to them and everything ends happily. Escaping into those worlds distracts me from the chaos.
I resonated deeply with most of what she said. When I asked her if there was a version of Tessy that only her closest friends knew, her response was straightforward:
I feel like I’m an open book. If anybody is close to me, they definitely know a lot, because I basically never shut up about it. At first, people may think I’m mysterious, but when they get closer, they realise there’s nothing mysterious. I share my status, class, politics, everything with people I bring close. So there isn’t really a side of me my close friends don’t know. Anyone close to me knows the basics.
And I found this to be true. Like I mentioned earlier, Tes gave me a lot of insights into the often adventurous but tumultuous realities faced by sex workers who are often demonised, criminalised and discriminated against. She does a deep dive by first sharing some of the misconceptions around sex work and sex workers:
One misconception most people have is that sex workers cannot do other jobs. We are often pushed away from existing normally in society and punished for working sex. People assume sex workers are lazy or don’t want to do anything else. That if given alternative jobs, they’ll still return to sex work. People say they’re bad and morally compromised. But most sex workers work two or three jobs, and some run businesses. Unless they tell you, you wouldn’t know. Now with the internet, it’s more common than ever. But transitioning into conventional work is designed to be hard. If a sex worker applies for a job and background checks reveal their past, they’ll struggle. If they want to start a business, they need to save up because no bank will give them a loan as someone who’s been in that line of work.
People often say sex workers don’t want to do other things, which isn’t true. I’ve done other things, but I prefer sex work because you do it at your own pace, the reward is instant, and life just goes the way work is supposed to. That’s why many prefer it; even when they’re forced to do other things, they often return to sex work. Being able to set your own rates at your own time is why freelance work is popular now.
Then there’s the myth that sex workers spread diseases. People think sex workers are reckless. But in reality, sex workers are often more careful than civilians, because this is their livelihood. You need to be healthy to work, so you take care of yourself even more than civilians. Sex workers aren’t disease incubators. STDs don’t target one group. Anybody can get them. We always try to avoid it, because if you’re sick, you can’t make money. It’s self-preservation.
Other myths include: sex workers can’t have husbands, can’t have happy lives, they’re drug addicts, etc. I’ve also mentioned dangers we face like rape and robbery. Some of these things have happened to me personally. Purity culture and misogyny are at the root of most of these misconceptions and ill treatments.
For people who don’t know what purity culture and misogyny are, can you explain what they mean and how the hatred for sex work ties to them?
From my understanding, misogyny is the degrading and debasement of women or feminine people. Looking down on them as weaker. Patriarchy enforces this system. Purity culture is built around controlling women’s sexuality, building narratives around their sexual activities and their womanhood.
For example, in rape cases, purity culture decides who deserves justice. In fashion, it decides how women should dress and how they should speak. Even in language, women are told not to use swear words like “shit” or “fuck”. It also shows in how married women are respected more than unmarried ones. Women who have sex are disrespected compared to virgins. That’s all purity culture.
Misogyny enforces toxic ideas, such as that women are stupid and can’t think for themselves. Also, notice how nobody talks about male sex workers? Nobody says, ‘men having too much sex is ruining society.’ But for women, everything is policed. If a sex worker marries, people say her husband is a fool. Meanwhile, rapists can marry and nobody cares. That’s misogyny and purity culture combined. When it comes to sex work, these systems are what fuel demonisation and criminalisation. It makes no sense that consensual sex for money is criminalised, but through purity culture, society justifies it. Women having casual sex for free are judged less harshly than women charging money. And they are typically attacked because the latter benefits women, not men.
Like you said, it’s rooted in misogyny. It almost seems like everything must benefit the men. For example, if a man has sex with many women, he’s praised, but if a woman does the same, she’s condemned. If she even does it for free, she’s pardoned more than if she commercialises it or charges money for it. It’s only when it stops benefiting men that it becomes “bad”.
Also, how do you feel about women who support misogyny? We often call them “pick-mes” or “patriarchy princesses”. As a woman yourself, how do you feel about them? Do you think we should try to understand their perspectives or empathise with them?
No, I don’t think we should. Most of them do know better. But it’s easier to follow the grain and not rock the boat. It takes bravery to say to the men, “I support other women; leave them alone.” Most of these women want to fit in. Patriarchy rewards them with respect. They’re the “good women”, unlike the “feminists causing trouble”. They thrive on that approval.
We all grew up in the same system. I had a pick-me phase too. I once said, “I’m not a feminist; I believe in equity, not equality, men and women are not equal.” We’ve all been there. But if someone chooses to stay in that place, it’s because they want to keep men’s approval. They’re not ready to sacrifice comfort.
Once they start going against the oppressive nature of the patriarchal system, they know they’ll be ostracised by the men as well. When you see how feminists are often talked about online, they may not want to be spoken to or thought of that way—like an angry, bitter person. Most people don’t want to be seen like that, so these women stick with what they know, find comfort in it, and just accept it.
They justify the sufferings of other women. Some even tell you, “They gave women education and now they’re using it to sleep around and challenge men online.” They prefer to throw their fellow women under the bus so they can be treated better than them and get praise for “doing what women are supposed to do”.
None of us grew up feminist. We HAD to learn. You see something online, you educate yourself, and you adjust. Even if you don’t care too much, you don’t have to invalidate others. Take trans people for example. I’m not trans, but I understand they want to be free and have the right to exist. I don’t have to make it my whole problem, but I won’t go outside saying, “they’re not who they say they are”. It’s not my business what others are doing. But some people enjoy invalidating others and when it comes back to them, they expect empathy. If you’re telling me it’s good for me to struggle because it serves you, why should I feel anything when it comes back to bite you?
It’s like sex work. Before I started, I didn’t know much about it. I didn’t even know certain microaggressions were bad until I saw others naming them. Like when people used to say “beauty and brains”. You’d think it’s a compliment until you read online: what do you mean beauty and brains? Why can’t it just be brains? Are you saying beautiful women are stupid? That’s how it works. You learn when you see different viewpoints. So, all these “Pick Me” and “Patriarchy Princess” women? They know what they’re doing.
I have another question, maybe more controversial. Would you say that sex work is harmful or not to society? And would you say that sex work is necessary? Why or why not?
Is anything necessary? Sex is natural. Our bodies are created to have sex and enjoy sex. So, is sex work necessary? It’s necessary for the workers who need it to survive. For society? I don’t know. What’s “necessary” anyway? Is it necessary to watch Big Brother and give them millions just for living in one space for some weeks as part of a social experiment? No. But people do it.
Is sex work harmful? No, not inherently. But people exploit it to do harmful things, just like anything else. Society has always coexisted with sex workers. It’s only harmful when outsiders decide to weaponise it. What I do in private with my body doesn’t harm anyone. CEOs exploit workers, billionaires exploit the poor, and landlords exploit tenants but nobody says their professions are harmful. But with sex, suddenly it’s a big problem. That’s bias. So, no—it’s not harmful, and it’s not “necessary” either. It’s survival work, and like everything else in this system, people just found ways to commercialise it.
Also, take suicide for example: if a regular person dies by suicide, people ask why; they look for tangible reasons. But when a sex worker dies, they immediately say, “It’s because she was a sex worker.” They won’t consider mental health or life issues. That bias makes sex work look harmful, but it inherently isn’t.
Someone having sex for money for a few minutes and collecting payment—how does that harm society? It doesn’t.
Can you speak to why sex work needs to be decriminalised?
The question is, why am I a criminal for asking to be paid for sex but not a criminal for having it free? It doesn’t make sense. It plays a part in the discrimination faced even when it comes to financial transactions. Payment processors and banks won’t give loans to sex workers. They’ll even seize your money if they find out it came from sex work.
I’ve experienced this with my Nigerian payment processors. It works fine for my civilian accounts but when I use it for my work, suddenly I have to start writing and explaining myself just to get my money back. Others try to circumvent this by disguising transfers, like typing “shoe” or “donation”. But if you write “dominatrix one-hour session”, that money won’t reach you.
Some organisations even claim that sex workers are victims being exploited. But they don’t fight exploitation in other industries, like Congo’s mineral mining, or agriculture, or domestic labour abroad. Those trafficked workers are ignored. But sex trafficking? That’s where everyone suddenly wants to “save the victims”. It’s hypocrisy. People are trafficked to do hair, nails, or drive cabs, but no one’s fighting to save them. But once it’s sex, suddenly it’s the biggest evil. Why? Misogyny and purity culture.
I was almost trafficked once. I refused because I love my freedom and independence, but many girls go. These so-called rescue organisations? They don’t help. They just deport girls back to their home countries to suffer the same poverty they initially ran away from. So when those girls come back, they return to sex work anyway. Because the root cause wasn’t solved. That’s why criminalisation makes things worse. It leaves sex workers unable to seek help. If I’m trafficked into sex, I can’t go to the police because they’ll arrest me first. Decriminalisation is the only way. Sex work is still just work.
So, what would creating a society that protects sex workers look like?
It’s already working in countries that have decriminalised it. Sex workers there have labour rights, just like everyone else. Nothing collapsed. The issue isn’t the work—it’s the idea that sex is taboo. People just need to get over that.
Right. Earlier you compared sex work to freelancing. Can you break that down for a layman?
It’s basically the same: one-off work, on your own time, at your own pace. Freelancers sell intellectual property. Sex workers commercialise their labour. Same model.
Also notice how no one talks about male sex workers? In Nigeria, most male sex workers are patronised by homosexuals, since women rarely pay men for sex. Women aren’t conditioned to see sex as conquest. So it’s easier for them to book other women than book men.
This is interesting because, even though women have the same urges, purity culture makes it impossible for them to openly patronise sex workers. Do you think the decision to hold back from patronising men is around shame, or around safety, or both? And what other factors are playing out?
It can be both, depending on the person or the individual. But I think mostly it’s about shame. A married man can go to hotels as often as he wants. Nobody cares. But if a single woman enters a hotel and calls somebody to meet her there, it’s shameful. Meanwhile, a man goes into a hotel, calls a girl, they have sex, and people think, “Yeah, that’s normal.”
So, I think that’s one of the things affecting male sex workers who are mostly into heterosexual services. But it’s not like this in more progressive countries. Male sex workers make a lot of money there. In fact, in Japan it’s even part of the entertainment culture. They have “hosts”, the way they have “hostesses”. There are clubs where young men sit around and women who can afford it come and “cut” them. They call it “cutting”—basically having fun, talking, and paying them for conversation. Of course, we know it’s not just conversations. But it’s accepted as culture.
Now, imagine in Nigeria, a bar where men sit and women come in, chat with them, and shine teeth. That would be seen as weird. Meanwhile, we already have strip clubs where women work and men enter to watch. That double standard is clear.
I think male sex workers actually make more money than women because they’re harder to procure and people don’t pay as much attention to them. They charge more since women sex workers are everywhere. If a female sex worker charges too much, you can easily find another one. But if a male sex worker sets a price, you’ll have a harder time finding a replacement, so it benefits them. It’s not as saturated as women’s work. Though, I don’t know too much about it because there isn’t a lot of buzz around them except as porn actors. That’s where you see male sex workers the most, in porn. And even then, male porn actors aren’t hated the way women are. They’re celebrated. Like Johnny Sins, a popular porn actor, who turned into a meme and is respected and adored. Even if only men were doing sex work, I think it would have been decriminalised by now. If men were the majority, they would justify it for themselves.
In my observation of her work, I found that art for Tes is instinctual, unfiltered, and unapologetically personal. It isn’t about storytelling in the traditional sense or drawing from cultural heritage. It’s about channeling the immediate, visceral truths of identity and feeling. Gothic imagery, skulls, vampires, spikes and the like appear not as metaphors but as extensions of Tes’s internal landscape.
In her latest visual series, she explores migration to a new city and attempts to capture her emotions and encounters through the use of bold imagery, sharp contrasts in her monochromatic colour palette and repetitive use of lines as the basis of her motif.
You’ve mentioned living through trauma, violence, and displacement. Do you feel that your art and services heal, document, or just coexist with your experiences?
My art is just art. I don’t infuse my experiences. It’s more of a hobby, a distraction from problems. It doesn’t solve anything, but it helps.
When you think about your younger self and your current self, what does a happy and successful life look like to you?
I try not to think too much about the future because it only makes me miserable. Success, for me, would mean still being introverted but having more access to the things I like. A better quality of life, more comfort, less struggle. For my younger self, I’d say she should have found herself earlier. She was braver than I am now, but she let the world dim her light. If she had accepted herself earlier, things could have been different. But maybe those experiences also shaped who I am now.
I love that you’re able to acknowledge how things could have been different but still see even painful experiences as blessings in disguise. Do you have any final advice for women reading this post?
Regarding sexuality, I hope more women can express themselves sexually, experiment, discover what they enjoy, and stop centering men’s pleasure. There are kink communities online, like on Twitter, where women can learn, share, and normalise their desires. People often think something is “too kinky” when it’s not even close. Joining these spaces helps you know yourself better and command your own pleasure.
Women are often told to just lie down and let the man get his pleasure. Some men even think if a woman directs them sexually, she must be “spoilt”. This silences women. So I encourage women to be selfish about their pleasure. Demand what you want, with consent, of course. Straight women especially need this, because queer women are already having fun.
Tes is an artist who draws because they must, moves because they need to, and lives because there is no other choice. Through her voice and work, life’s chaos finds shape, but only on her terms.
