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Self-Help Session with APBS – Dakar, August 23, 2025

My father was always very involved in my stuttering – not always with the best advice or reactions, but at least he was there. He used to take me every Tuesday to the speech therapist, and send me videos about stuttering or of beautiful speeches given by perfectly fluent people. One day, he sent me a video about an association in Senegal for people who stutter. I can’t remember what they were saying, but somehow that video always stayed quietly in my memory.

So when I booked my ticket for Senegal this summer, I had an idea: reach out to these people. Over the past year, thanks to Stamily, I’ve learned so much about stuttering, and I just wanted to connect more and more with people who stutter.

Oh, and as you may have guessed, my father is Senegalese.


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Rose with some members of APBS


On August 23, I had the chance to attend a Self-Help session organized by APBS (Association for the Support of People Who Stutter in Senegal). I reached out to the APBS president on WhatsApp and he responded immediately, with great enthusiasm.

The meeting took place in the suburbs of Dakar. As often happens in Senegal, the session started a bit late, which gave us time to relax and connect. I had planned quite a few activities for us, but once again, the spontaneity and love of chatting of Senegalese culture led us to talk through most of the session. We were with about ten young participants. I introduced myself, my role with Stamily, my podcast, and of course, my own journey with stuttering.


At first, some participants thought I had come with external solutions – financial support or ways to solve the therapeutic desert that exists in Senegal. But that is not my role. I am simply a person who stutters, engaged in different projects around stuttering. Luckily, one participant quickly explained that these local challenges need to be addressed from within.


We talked a lot about speech therapy in Senegal. Sessions are often very expensive for the average family, and some people feel disappointed when results aren’t immediate. This gave me the chance to share that therapy is not necessarily about becoming 100% fluent, but often about feeling more comfortable and free in daily communication.

The conversation then shifted to the social reality of stuttering in Senegal. Many shared how difficult it is to stutter in the workplace, where perfect speech is highly valued and stuttering is rarely accepted. A person may succeed academically, but then face real barriers when looking for a job. In Senegal, finding work is already difficult — sometimes almost impossible — and stuttering adds another layer of fear and uncertainty.

As many of us were still students, some participants also talked about how teachers in primary school often reacted to stuttering — assuming the child was doing it on purpose, or even thinking that beating them could suddenly make them fluent.


What struck me most is that stuttering is very visible in Senegalese society – it’s not rare to hear people stutter in the street. And yet, it is widely mocked: in small groups, in public, and even in stand-up comedy shows, where it is often a recurring joke. This creates a painful paradox: something so common, yet so stigmatized. For many people who stutter, this results in withdrawal and a desire to simply keep their voice hidden.


We ended on a more hopeful note, talking about the importance of self-confidence: not feeling inferior to the norm, daring to speak even where we’re not expected, and also accepting that we won’t always feel great about our stuttering — or even about ourselves. That’s why we have these self-help groups, which give us strength and faith in the future.

What really struck me during our exchange is how universal our pain can be. One participant shared how fearful he felt every Sunday evening, dreading Monday morning and all the work meetings. It immediately reminded me of my own Sunday evenings before school, when I knew I had to present something in front of the class. These sensations — that almost every person who stutters knows so well — made me feel deeply connected to him, and to all of us in that room.


To close the session, the association generously offered us a delicious lunch: ceebu nebé (rice with beans).

In the end, we all left with more hope and a shared desire to collaborate. Personally, I would love to begin this collaboration with a Zoom meeting, where one of the APBS members could share their experience with the Stamily community. I think this would be a beautiful first step to build bridges and make voices from Senegal heard internationally. And above all, I’m really excited to go back to Senegal to meet them again.


short video of the meeting




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