This word is almost an abomination in African countries because we are more religion-driven than facts — even if it hurts to admit it. I grew up here, and all I can say is that I’m doing a lot of relearning.
A friend of mine who was preparing for a debate asked me- What’s your take on this topic? “Should abortion be legalized and why?”
My reflex response in my head was “YES” — with block letters — but I couldn’t say it out with confidence, and when I thought about why I couldn’t come up with something “logical” immediately, I got nothing. For someone so vocal on controversial topics, you would ask why.
When I wanted to speak, it was as though the science and religious parts of me were conflicted. I’m Nigerian after all, what would you expect?
I replied with an- “I’m all for it to be legalized, but at the same time my Christianity holds me back a little.” I think my immediate reply will always be “subjectified” at every instance asked because of my identity — a Nigerian Catholic. I told her I would give her my “take” much later which she was okay with — I decided to write about it.
I sat down, opened a blank word sheet, went on YouTube, searched “Yanni” and started with the nightingale. I typed the word “abortion” on my blank page and just stared at it.
I asked myself what do you believe in objectively?
For minutes, I couldn’t come up with something that reflected me completely but let me tell you this…a conversation with Ashley, a young girl Hannah, and a writer.
I was 18, naïve, free, and in love …
All I knew was, if you had unprotected sex, take the morning-after pill, and you’ll be safe — nobody talked to us about these things.
I was in love with Michael, it was simple, rosy, fun, and pleasurable…until I got pregnant.
I had missed my period which was normal for me because it wasn’t yet regular as at then. I didn’t think much about it because we were writing exams but deep down, I was scared.
I wanted to check but, at the same time, I didn’t. I took the morning-after pill so I couldn’t be pregnant, I convinced myself — they said, pill equals no pregnancy, no pill equals pregnancy. So, I didn’t check.
When my discharges started becoming heavier, I started to panic. I wasn’t having any morning sickness, maybe it was just delayed, as usual, I thought.
One afternoon, my friends and I were arguing, they had come over for group reading. One of them was lying on my bed and at some point, she tried to cuddle me playfully but quickly sat up. Are you feeling well Ashley? She asked. Your temperature is high. I said yes, I noticed it too and I woke up feeling cold. My 2nd-year roommate almost immediately said, I told you to cover up last night when it rained but you wouldn’t listen.
I was so scared that they knew but I composed myself. Later that day, I went to a pharmacy to get test strips. The lady at the counter even made me feel worse, I just had to tell her out of shame that my Aunty sent me to get them — which lessened her judgmental countenance.
I hurried home so I wouldn’t meet anyone in the room and peed on the stick. I closed my eyes tight, hoping and praying I would see one line and I’d never have sex again. I started thinking of all the times I heard sex is a sin and how I would have avoided this stress if only I had abstained like a good Christian — but I was in love.
I waited for my 3-minute alarm to ring and god, my heart pounded. I don’t want this, please, don’t be positive, I said, almost in tears. I looked down and it was two lines. Tears started rolling down my eyes.
I tested with another strip and it was the same thing. There had to be a problem I said. I searched on Google and I got to find out that there was something as false positive, a glimpse of hope, I thought. The next day after class, I went to a laboratory outside school. I used my alien name to register, my blood sample was taken, and I waited for my results.
After a few minutes, she said she wanted to talk to me, and I told her I had a test in 15 minutes so I had to go, and she let me. She gave me my results and I left. Part of me already knew why. I didn’t open the envelope until I got home, then I cried.
-So how and when did you decide you were going to do it?
Well, I had exams to write, so I focused on them. I would occasionally drift and think of my baby. I named her. Anytime I had the chance to be alone, we would talk. Chimamanda recently said motherhood was something men would never experience, she was right — she was gravely misunderstood.
It wasn’t an immediate decision but I already knew I wanted to do it because I wasn’t ready. I mean, how was I going to take care of this baby alone? I had no reason, I just knew I couldn’t keep her. So, I decided to do it after my exams. It would be a month and two weeks which was still safe. I spent this time bonding and apologizing. Please, don’t judge me, I’m a Nigerian Catholic.
How did you know it was a girl?
I didn’t know. It just felt like it was and I wanted it to be a girl. So, I chose. It was magical. Everyone around me said I was always happy and shiny. I knew I was happy, I had so much joy. My GPA that semester was one of my best throughout Uni.
I would wake up and we would pray together, eat for us, revise together and that was how it continued. As my exam period neared its end, the more scared I was. Scared not only about the termination complications but also about losing my baby, my friend. We did have a bond.
I started thinking of ways to keep her. I thought of carrying her to term and dropping her off at a priest’s residence but which priest was I going to drop her off with? Where was I going to stay until I was due? My only option was my aunty but even that was a gamble. There was every possibility she would flip — when my parents question her. Everything I thought about just had a loop somewhere and my baby’s father, was nowhere to be found literally.
He was there but he wasn’t. When I informed him, he immediately asked if I wanted to keep the baby but I didn’t have an answer. He did try to convince me not to keep her. Did I understand the fact that being a parent at that age was scary, yes, but wasn’t I scared too? We never had that conversation and he left. I had to deal with the confusion and fear all by myself.
I was the one who had to deal with the guilt, who had to go through with the termination, deliberately telling my child I don’t want you right now, and the one who would experience the pain and trauma that followed. I paid for everything myself although we were two when we made this baby, but what can I say?
When I was done with my exams, I booked a date. I had three days more with her. So, I spent it talking and apologizing still.
The night it happened; I took the final pill around midnight when everyone was still asleep, I just didn’t want to have to explain. The cramping was on another level, I thought I was going to die and I bled so much.
I remember thinking of these Nigerian movies where people bled to death after having an abortion. I just kept crying and saying, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, till I slept off. I did take enough painkillers at intervals to subside the pain.
The father asked me the following week if I was still pregnant. The day we had that conversation, was the day whatever I felt for him died — the last day I spoke to him.
Do you regret it?
Yes and No.
I made a choice.
I had to decide to live with any decision I made.
Yes because I loved her, I still wonder what she would have been like, the relationship we could have had and I could have watched her grow.
No, because I would have neglected her needs and she would have suffered. Bringing a child into this cruel world with no means of survival or plan is also like death itself.
Would you encourage Hannah here to have an abortion?
I can’t tell you what to do, I turned to her, shaking my head.
Bu- But you had an abortion and you’re doing well too. I mean, you’re 35, a mother of three, and a renowned surgeon. Wouldn’t you say having that abortion allowed you to fulfill your dreams?
Certainly, it did, but I made that choice. I would have you know that having a baby or not, is not sequential to being successful my dear, I said. Success comes from your putting in the required effort, consistency, discipline, hard work, and smart work.
I have a friend who took in and kept her baby, now she’s a very accomplished and wealthy nurse. I would even admit that at that time, I was a bit jealous that she dared to keep her child. Well, her baby’s daddy didn’t leave her to be by herself.
Some women didn’t have anyone and yet they kept their babies. Life is about choices my dear. You do have to make this decision on your own if you want to or not— when you choose what’s more important to you — because you have the right to make it and you’d live with whatever choice you made. I can only support you in whatever decision you choose.
Fast forward to today, Hannah just completed medical school, she also has a son, please don’t ask me about the choice she made because it doesn’t matter.
I don’t think abortion is good or bad, I think it’s left to be decided between you and your conscience, your God, or yourself.
I recently saw a post that said, “How do we explain the fact that some countries have the death penalty as the judicial consequence of having an abortion.”
And I kept asking myself- how do men get to make the decisions on what we do with our bodies??
Wouldn’t that be like wanting to die and forcing someone else to drink your intended poison?
