The Day I Almost Believed That Abortion Had Been Legalized In Nigeria

The Day I Almost Believed That Abortion Had Been Legalized In Nigeria.

The story I am about to share with you has plenty of lessons in it. I enjoined you to read it from the beginning to the end.

I had a boyfriend whose name was James. She lived at Lawanson in Surulere, while I lived at Ikotun, near Egbe, an outskirt of Lagos metropolis.

I woke up one day and started vomiting. Immediately that happened, I remembered that my mother had told me that early morning vomiting by a woman is a sign of pregnancy.

With that remembrance, I quickly picked my phone and called James. He didn’t pick my call, but a few minutes later, he returned it.

After I had explained to him how I felt, he asked if I was suspecting anything like pregnancy and I said: “Yes.”

“If that is the case,” he suggested, “I would advise that you come over to my house, so that we can talk it over and decide on the next line of action to take.”

As I was in a taxi from my house in Ikotun to Lawanson, via Okota, my mind was busy thinking of the likely consequences should my suspicion be confirmed.

For example, I thought of how to break the bad news to my parents, especially my disciplinarian father. I also thought of the consequences of procuring an abortion should that turn out to be the last resort.

After discussing the matter with my boyfriend, he suggested I should go for a pregnancy test at one of the tested and trusted medical laboratory at Ojuelegba.

While I was praying for the test to be negative, it came out positive. It revealed that I was carrying a three-month pregnancy.

At the end of the day, my boyfriend and I agreed that I should go for an abortion, especially since we were not yet ready to get married.

I was very reluctant with that agreement, but because of our common reason and for the likely war I might face in the hands of my parents, I decided to settle for the abortion.

My boyfriend suggested that I should have the abortion procured on me at Rotunda Hospital at Orile-Iganmu, because he had a doctor-friend who worked there.

I had the rudest shock of my life when I stepped into the reception room of the Orile-Iganmu-based Rotunda Hospital.

Do you know why?

I met more than fifteen other young women like me who had also came to have abortion procured on them. Before the next twenty minutes, more than ten other women also joined us. Those who knew what I am talking about would confirm this to you.

I couldn’t believe my eyes that day, seeing women troop into the hospital to have abortion procured on them. If anybody had told me, that day, that abortion had been legalized in Nigeria, I would have believed him or her.

The question I kept asking my boyfriend that day was: “Is abortion now legalized in Nigeria?”

This story that I am sharing with you here took place in 2008 or 2009. I was reluctant to share it with you then because I was ashamed to tell you my involvement with abortion, something that my parents had always advised me against.

I decided to share it with you now because the abortion did a big damage in my body. Because of the damage, I have not been able to conceive, several years after, let alone having a miscarriage.

The only saving grace I have today is that I’m married to a White man, with whom I live in his country, Canada.

If I had married a black man, including my former boyfriend, James, who caused the pregnancy that forced me to go for an abortion, I would have been sent packing from my marriage by either him or his parents.

My advice to our women, especially those who are still single, is: “Please, try as much as possible to stay away from sex if you’re not ready to have babies. If you cannot hold yourself, which I strongly suggest you should, please, try as much as possible not to go for an abortion. It’s not a good option.

To the menfolk: Please, never you advise your girlfriend, lover or wife to go for an abortion, for whatever reason.

Abortion is murder. It kills our children. Abortion is evil. Let’s stop it now!

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By Nancy Ogah-Simmons