When was the last time you saw someone who looked like your Uncle Kweku or Auntie Ada in a health research study? I’ll wait. The truth is, Black African diaspora communities are sorely under-represented in health and care research in the UK. It’s not that we don’t have health concerns — quite the opposite. From diabetes to hypertension, these conditions disproportionately affect our community. So why aren’t we showing up in the data that’s meant to help us?
Grab a cup of tea (or plantain chips if you’ve got some handy), and let’s unpack the real reasons behind this issue.
1. “Sign This Consent Form” – Wait, Ehn! What’s the Catch?
Let’s be honest: if someone in a lab coat approaches your typical African parent with a clipboard, their first thought isn’t “science.” It’s probably, “Is this a scam?” Centuries of colonial exploitation and unethical experiments (looking at you, Tuskegee Study) have created a deep mistrust in medical institutions.
Culturally, many African communities lean on religion and traditional beliefs when dealing with health concerns. Auntie Beatrice isn’t thinking about joining a research study; she’s more likely to tell you, “Just pray and drink your ginger tea.” While faith and herbal remedies are important, this mistrust means many people miss out on treatments and breakthroughs that could save lives.
2. “What Do You Mean, Take My Blood?”
Now, let’s talk about the fear of the unknown. Health research often involves samples — blood, saliva, you name it. This is where things get culturally tricky. In many African traditions, bodily fluids aren’t just a matter of science; they’re sacred.
Some worry that their samples might be misused (“What if they use my blood for juju?”). Combine that with poorly explained consent processes, and you’ve got a recipe for, “No thanks, I’ll pass.”
