On a Thursday morning in Lagos, a roomful of journalists and social media influencers gathered for something far more consequential than chasing headlines or boosting engagement. They had come together for a training session on Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis, better known as PrEP, organised by the National Agency for the Control of AIDS (NACA) and the World Health Organisation (WHO). The atmosphere was part classroom, part public health mission. The people in the room were being asked to become bridges between medical science and real life, to translate clinical facts into stories that Nigerians can understand and act on. The officials leading the session made no secret of why this mattered. HIV prevention in Nigeria has made real progress, but the next phase of the fight depends on whether the right messages reach the right people, especially young people and others who are most at risk. Temitope Ilori, the Director-General of NACA, set the tone with a simple but powerful point: the fight against HIV is not only about providing medicines and services; it is also about ensuring that people have the right information to make informed decisions about their health. Her words captured a truth that public health workers know all too well. A prevention option can only save lives if people know it exists, understand how it works, feel that it is accessible, and can choose it without fear of shame or condemnation. The gathering was also a response to a disturbing trend: misinformation and stigma still keep too many Nigerians away from HIV prevention services. The training was therefore designed not just to update attendees on the science of PrEP, but to turn them into trusted voices in their communities. For journalists, that means reporting with accuracy and compassion. For influencers, it means using the language and platforms of daily life to normalise conversations about sexual health. Both groups left with a shared responsibility: to close the information gap and help Nigerians make choices based on facts, not fear.
For those unfamiliar with PrEP, it is an HIV prevention method for people who do not have HIV but may be at risk of getting the virus. In plain terms, PrEP involves taking antiretroviral medicines that stop HIV from establishing itself in the body, effectively creating a protective wall before exposure ever happens. Think of it as a safety net worn before the risk, not a cure or a treatment. Ilori described PrEP as a highly effective prevention option, but she was careful to stress that effectiveness is not automatic. The impact of PrEP in Nigeria depends on four things: availability, awareness, correct understanding and willingness to use it. A medicine sitting on a shelf does nothing. A person who has never heard of PrEP cannot ask for it. A person who has heard confusing or false things about it may be too afraid to try it. And a person who wants it but cannot reach a clinic or afford a test may give up entirely. That is why the training focused so heavily on communication. Journalists and influencers were not told to simply spread the word in a vague way. They were told to help answer the questions people may be afraid to ask: Who can use PrEP? How does it work? Where can it be accessed? What are the different options available? These are not technical questions for experts. They are deeply personal questions for people trying to protect themselves and the people they love. By answering them honestly and without judgement, the media can make PrEP feel less like a clinical topic and more like a practical choice. Eligibility depends on individual circumstances, and healthcare providers should guide decisions. This nuance matters because it prevents both overconfidence and confusion. PrEP is not a magic shield or a license to ignore other precautions; it is one of several tools, and its use should be tailored to a person’s life. The training aimed to place that kind of nuance into the hands of communicators so they could share it without oversimplifying or sensationalising.
One of the most encouraging messages from the Lagos training was that Nigeria now has more than one way to take PrEP. Oluwafunke Odunlade, the WHO Technical Officer for HIV, Viral Hepatitis and Sexually Transmitted Infections in Nigeria, explained that currently available options include oral PrEP, a long-acting injectable called cabotegravir, and a newer option known as lenacapavir PrEP. For many people, that may sound like a list of scientific names, but the meaning behind it is deeply human. It means choice. It means a person can work with a healthcare provider to find a method that fits their daily routine, their comfort level and their concerns about privacy. An oral pill taken as prescribed may work well for someone who is organised and consistent. An injectable that provides protection for months at a time may be better for someone who struggles to remember to take a pill every day or who prefers fewer clinic visits. The existence of options is a reminder that HIV prevention should never be one-size-fits-all. Odunlade stressed that the choice of a PrEP option should be based on an individual’s needs and made with appropriate guidance from a healthcare provider. That last point is crucial. Having options does not mean making decisions alone in the dark. It means walking into a clinic, asking questions, and leaving with a plan that makes sense for your body and your life. For journalists and influencers, the challenge is to present these options without confusing people or making them feel overwhelmed. The goal is not to push everyone toward the newest or most advanced method, but to help people understand what exists and what might work for them. Just as a person’s life circumstances change, so can their prevention needs. A student may choose a discreet oral option while in university; years later, the same person might prefer the convenience of an injectable. By telling these stories, the media can shift the conversation from abstract biomedical terms to real choices that ordinary Nigerians face every day.
Throughout the training, one message returned again and again: misinformation and stigma are as dangerous as the virus itself, perhaps more so in the long run. Ilori warned that inaccurate information about HIV prevention can create fear, reinforce stigma and discourage people from seeking the very services that could protect them. This happens in real and painful ways. A misleading post on social media may convince a young woman that PrEP is dangerous, so she avoids it. A careless headline may suggest that PrEP is only for certain groups, so a man decides it does not apply to him. A person who walks into a clinic may be met with judgemental looks from a health worker or gossiped about by neighbours, and so they never return. Stigma thrives in silence, and silence is the climate in which HIV continues to spread. Journalists and content creators, Ilori said, have a responsibility to ensure that the information they share is accurate, evidence-based, respectful and free from stigma and discrimination. This is not a matter of political correctness. It is a public health necessity. When people are afraid to be seen seeking HIV prevention, they are less likely to use services. When they encounter shaming language, they may internalise it and believe that their health needs are something to hide. But when media messages are humane and dignified, they create an environment in which prevention becomes possible. The training encouraged participants to think about the people behind the statistics: a university student, a trader, a young couple planning their future. Behind every HIV statistic is a person with hopes, fears and relationships. Odunlade echoed this, reminding journalists that one of their core duties is to help propagate correct information, bring awareness and dispel myths. It sounds simple, but in a digital ecosystem where falsehood travels faster than facts, it requires intention and courage.
The training also highlighted a changing media landscape. Traditional media remain a vital partner in public health communication, particularly in Nigeria, where radio, television and newspapers still reach millions of households. But social media has opened new doors. It allows public health information to travel into private spaces, mobile phones, WhatsApp groups, Instagram feeds and TikTok timelines, where young people negotiate questions of health and sexuality every day. Ilori acknowledged this reality and challenged journalists and influencers to think about how they can use their different platforms creatively. Traditional media can provide depth and credibility. Social media can provide reach and relevance. Together, they can create a conversation that is both informed and accessible. The vocabulary, however, has to change. A government statement may say Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis; a young content creator may say the pill that protects you from HIV. Both are working toward the same goal, but the human connection comes from the message that feels close to life. Ilori gave the participants a clear editorial direction: your stories should humanise HIV prevention, your content should encourage conversations rather than judgement, and your platforms should become trusted sources of credible health information. Odunlade reinforced this by describing media practitioners as important advocates who can influence public understanding of HIV/AIDS and other diseases associated with stigma. She also reminded them of their power to shape the agenda. Journalists do not just report on issues; they decide what gets discussed, what gets questioned and what gets prioritised. That power carries an obligation to use it responsibly. For journalists, this means going beyond press releases and event coverage. It means interviewing people who have used PrEP, asking about their struggles, and telling their stories with dignity. For influencers, it means being willing to speak about topics that might be awkward or taboo, and doing so with confidence and empathy. Both groups were reminded that their audiences are not passive consumers of information. They are people making decisions.
The engagement in Lagos comes at a strategic moment for Nigeria’s HIV response. Ilori explained that the country is strengthening its prevention efforts under the National Strategic Plan 2026–2030, a framework built on sustainability, innovation, stronger partnerships and increased community engagement. This plan is not simply a government document. It is a promise that HIV prevention cannot rest on old approaches. New tools, new voices and new collaborations are needed. The training of journalists and influencers is part of that vision. NACA, she said, does not see the day in Lagos as a one-off event, but as the beginning of a partnership between the agency, the media and the digital community. That is a meaningful distinction. A one-off training may produce a few articles and a flurry of social media posts, but it quickly fades. A partnership endures. It means NACA and WHO will keep supporting journalists with accurate information and experts to interview. It means journalists and influencers will keep asking the questions that their audiences need answered. It means the relationship between public health institutions and the media becomes something closer to a team, working together to protect Nigerians from HIV. The goal, Ilori said, is to increase demand for HIV prevention services, reduce misinformation, address stigma and ensure that more Nigerians have the knowledge and tools they need to protect themselves. That is a vision worth committing to. It acknowledges that HIV prevention is not a one-time campaign with posters and hashtags, but a long-term, evolving conversation. And it places ordinary people at the centre of the response, not as passive recipients of health messages, but as decision-makers with the right to know, understand and choose. For the journalists and influencers in the room, the final message was simple but profound: they are not just messengers; they are guardians of trust. In a world where health misinformation spreads with a single share, their commitment to accuracy and empathy can tip the balance. The training may have ended, but the work is just beginning. If every participant carried even a few of the day’s lessons into their work, the ripple effects could be felt for years in homes, clinics and communities across Nigeria.