If there is one thing nobody talks about in a Nigerian office, it is neurodivergence. There is gossip about salaries, fights over promotions, complaints about NEPA and the internet, but they rarely stop to notice that not everyone’s brain works the same.

Yet, almost every office has that one colleague who does not quite fit the script. The quiet colleague who avoids eye contact and is quickly labelled “proud.” The restless one who cannot sit through a two-hour meeting without fidgeting and gets tagged “unserious,” the genius who can solve problems in half the time but struggles with writing long reports, is dismissed as “lazy” or “careless.”

Globally, studies say one in five people is neurodivergent. Put that against Nigeria’s massive workforce and you realise we are not talking about a rare thing, we are talking about millions of Nigerians. The difference is, here, most never get diagnosed.

The Association of Psychiatrists in Nigeria (APN) estimates there are fewer than 200 psychiatrists serving over 200 million people, a staggering gap. Meanwhile, the World Health Organisation (WHO) reports that about 20 million Nigerians live with mental health conditions, yet only around 10 percent ever access treatment.

With numbers like these, it is no surprise that conditions like ADHD, autism, and dyslexia fly under the radar. People are left to “mask”, forcing themselves to laugh at jokes they do not understand, staying late to redo work that takes them longer, pretending to cope while burning out silently.

Also Read: One billion minds at risk: Where does Nigeria stand in WHO’s mental health warning?

And because awareness is missing, HR is not thinking about it, managers do not see it, and colleagues do not understand it. Neurodivergence does not make it into employee handbooks or training manuals. Instead, it is quietly punished, in appraisals, in promotions, in daily office gist. The silence does not just hurt individuals; it costs companies talent, creativity, and productivity.

Brain works differently, and that is okay

Neurodivergence is a broad term covering conditions like autism, ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia, and others. The concept, popularised by sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s, challenges the idea that there is one “normal” brain. Instead, it argues that neurological differences are natural variations of the human experience, not flaws to be “fixed.”

Experts note that these differences often come with strengths. For example, people with ADHD may struggle with focus in long meetings but excel in fast-paced problem-solving. Dyslexic individuals might find reading or spelling difficult, but often show advanced skills in spatial reasoning and creativity.

Autism, too, can bring challenges in social settings but also incredible strengths in pattern recognition, detail orientation, and innovative thinking. But in Nigeria, where mental health awareness is already low, the conversation is still in its infancy. Without expert input, offices continue to confuse difference with deficiency.

What inclusion could really look like

If Nigerian workplaces want to keep a neurodivergence talent, the script has to change. Inclusion is not about pity or “special treatment”, it is about designing work so different brains can deliver at their best.

That might mean cutting down pointless two-hour meetings, giving staff flexible ways to submit work, or even just HRs learning not to misjudge silence as arrogance. A little awareness goes a long way.

Imagine an office where performance is measured by results, not how well you “fit” into the environment. A workplace where managers know that one person might thrive in open brainstorming while another needs quiet to deliver genius. That kind of shift will not just help neurodivergent Nigerians, it will make offices fairer and more productive for everyone.

If our workplaces can embrace that, we may find that some of the solutions we are chasing are already sitting right next to us, waiting to be noticed.

Cynthia Nwanonyiri