Tonye*, 23, from Lagos, got pregnant at 17 and chose abortion. She thought she was making a practical choice to protect her future. Years later, she’s still living with the aftermath in ways she never expected. This is her story.
Can you tell me a bit about your life around age 17?
I worked as a secretary at a print hub in Ojuelegba. My dad had just passed away, and my mom was on a work transfer, so it was just me and my two sisters. That same year, I gained admission into university and quit my job to go to school. It was a lot of change happening all at once.
How did you meet the person you got pregnant with?
We met briefly when I was 16. James* was my mom’s best friend’s son. He was 28 at the time. We were friends at first, then the relationship progressed slowly. He was older, but I didn’t think much about the age difference because people always said I was very mature for my age. I could hold intellectual conversations and chip in on adult discussions. We started dating after I turned 17.
What was that relationship like?
We did not spend a lot of time together because I was busy juggling work and then school but we did our best to make time. I thought we loved each other, though now that I’m older, I realise it wasn’t love. It was just me wanting someone in my corner.
I was always misunderstood as a child, and he was the first person to really get me. I was called ugly, tiny, lepa. My father also didn’t like me. We fought a lot, and he refused to acknowledge my existence until his passing. So I desperately wanted someone to prove him wrong.
When James came into my life, it felt different. I felt safe. He would always tell me how proud of me he was. For the first time, I felt like I mattered.
Did you know much about sex, pregnancy, or contraception at the time?
I knew about sex only because they taught it in school. My parents never talked to me about it. My sisters and I didn’t have a good relationship then, so there was nobody to talk to. When he suggested sex, I just gave in. As for pregnancy, it never occurred to me that I could get pregnant. I left contraception to him because we rarely had sex. I could count the number of times we did it.
What She Said: I Was the Other Woman for Two Years
How did you realise you were pregnant?
My period was late. I usually had an irregular cycle, but this felt different. My breasts doubled in size, and I felt nauseous every morning. I just knew.
One day I went to the pharmacy, got eight pregnancy test strips, and tested myself throughout the day. They were all positive. I sat in my room all day. Then at night, I went to see him. When I entered the room crying, I think he just knew. He was there to catch me.
What went through your mind?
Before seeing him, I’d already made up my mind. I was ambitious, so I wasn’t going to let a foetus take away my life. I never thought about having kids. With him? Definitely not. I wanted more out of life. I wanted to go to school, travel the world, and enjoy my youth. I wanted to prove the world wrong. I was an angry child, but I wanted them to know I could still make a difference.
When I told him, he tried to convince me to keep it, but my stance was clear. I wanted it gone. On the second of October, he got the pills and I took them that night.
Can you walk me through what that process was like?
I checked online for the steps and post-abortion care. I got enough pads and a flask of warm water. I didn’t eat dinner because I was scared. I stayed under the shower for over an hour, convincing myself I was making the right decision.
I used the pills and headed to my room. He left because I didn’t want it to be obvious we had something going on. The world felt quiet. My stomach felt strangled. By midnight, I could feel something leaving my body.
By morning, I’d started bleeding, heavier than usual. I tried to keep it hidden from my sisters. By the third day, the clots started coming out. I don’t remember the experience vividly because I convinced my brain not to. It was too painful.
I’m sorry you went through that alone. How did you manage physically and emotionally?
Emotionally, I was a mess, but I’m strong. I didn’t wish I’d done things differently. I was grounded in my decision.
Physically, I was weak, but I still had to do everything I usually did at home so no one would notice. I cried a lot. My boobs hurt, my body hurt. I couldn’t stand for long, and I wasn’t eating well. But I had to keep up appearances.
So no one else knew?
Aside from me and James, I didn’t tell anyone. He wanted to tell my sister when I almost passed out, but I told him not to. After it ended, I told one friend. Years later, we’re still best friends.
What happened immediately after?
Once the bleeding ended, my body adjusted. But I was angry at James and even more so at myself. Days after my abortion, he came to me and said he was horny, that we should have sex. Stupidly, I allowed him. That’s the only thing I wish I’d said no to.
I felt useless afterwards. That experience shaped my sex life till today. It rewired my brain to think I was just a tool for sexual satisfaction. Years later, I still haven’t had an orgasm or enjoyed sex. It feels like a chore, and it’s still painful.
I also fell into depression when I went back to school. I was sad, drank more, and everything felt pointless. I missed my baby. All through the first year, I had bad grades, which was very unlike me.
You’ll Also Enjoy: “He blamed my miscarriages on my job” — 6 Women on Leaving Their Careers for Love
How have your feelings about sex affected your relationships since?
After that experience, things between me and James. I couldn’t stand the sight of him but the moment left its mark. Every sexual experience since then has been to satisfy my partner and avoid getting pregnant. I’m constantly checking my calendar and doing pregnancy tests every time I have sex. The anxiety is so bad I can’t enjoy it. I stayed celibate a lot after.
Ten months later, I tried dating. I met a guy on a dating app. He loved me, but I didn’t like him enough. I was insecure. We broke up after 10 months when he went through my phone and read my notes from the abortion. He told me the sex had been awful because it was a “me problem.”
Three months later, he texted saying he missed me and didn’t care about the abortion. I went back even though I didn’t want to. Our relationship became more strained. I walked on eggshells around him. Six months later, we had a huge fallout. He also had an issue with me being a feminist and made weird remarks about me acting like I was his equal. So we ended things.
How do you feel about men and relationships now?
I’m genuinely not interested in men. I haven’t dated since. I get into talking stages and when it gets serious, I bail. I can’t deal with commitment right now.
Looking back, what do you wish someone had told or done for you?
I wish someone had educated me about sex and how to process my emotions after the abortion. It affected me greatly. Even now, I run away from difficult situations and shut down when everything comes back.
It affected how I view men, dating, and pregnancy. It has me doubting if I’d ever be a good mother or if I’ll ever get pregnant again. I’ve convinced myself I’m infertile.
I really wish someone had told me what to expect, or given me an adult I could confide in. But now I’m an adult that kids can come to. My nephew can confidently tell me things. A girl in the street came to me when she got her first period. I helped a friend get through an abortion, held her hand all through. It healed something in me. I never had someone do that for me.
How do you feel now about that younger version of yourself?
I’m still so proud of myself. I graduated with a CGPA of 3.28. As for my younger self, I wish I’d given her more grace. It was her first time living and she handled it so well.
As for the baby, I still think about her. When I see a baby that would have been her age, I wonder what she’d look like. It makes me sad. I still grieve her. I even gave her a name.
Is there any part of the story you’ve never told anyone before?
The guilt was excruciating. I self-isolated, resorted to drinking, and felt awful for years.
It made me hate him. I still hate him, and I’ll never forgive him. We don’t talk anymore. The things he did, I didn’t deserve. Even though he loved me, love doesn’t excuse it. I was just a baby, and I wish he’d treated me as such.
I still wonder how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t lost years to the pain and depression.. It makes me evasive. I only know people on surface levels. I’m scared that if I let someone in, they might find nothing in me worth staying for.
What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?
Some decisions change you in ways you can’t predict. I thought I was making a practical choice, but I didn’t realise how deeply it would affect my ability to trust, to be intimate, to feel safe.
I’ve also learned that age gaps matter more than I thought. At 17, I thought I was mature enough for a relationship with a 28-year-old. But now I see he should have known better.
And healing isn’t linear. Some days I’m proud of my decision and strength. Other days, I grieve what I lost, not just the baby, but parts of myself. Both can be true at the same time.
Names* have been changed for anonymity.
Single? Married? Divorced? Dating? In a situationship? We’re surveying Nigerians about love, relationships, marriage, and everything in between, and we want to hear from YOU.
You only need to give us a few minutes of your time and participate in this quick survey. It’s 100% anonymous too!
