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  • Two years ago, Carmen* (23) gave her newborn baby to a random woman in her neighbourhood and didn’t look back.

    In this story, she shares why that was the best decision given her financial circumstances, why she accepts that people wouldn’t understand, and her plans for the future.

    As told to Boluwatife

    Image: Zikoko

    As a teenager, I used to think of my mum as the worst mother in the world. It’s ironic that someday, my child might feel the same about me. 

    Now that I’m older, I understand that my mum was simply a victim of circumstances. She wasn’t married to my dad when she had me, but they lived together as husband and wife. After I turned two, they started having issues, and my dad sent her out of the house. Then, he sent me to live with my grandmother so my mum wouldn’t have access to me. 

    I didn’t know this. All I knew about my mum was what my grandma told me, and that was mostly insults. So, I grew up believing my mum abandoned me and didn’t want anything to do with me. 

    My dad wasn’t any better. He only occasionally sent money for my care to my grandma; he hardly came to visit. Even with the money he sent, grandma was always broke, and she made sure I never forgot that. If I asked for biscuits, she’d go, “With the chicken change your father sends abi?” So, I had to learn to hustle early. 

    At 10 years old, I hawked pure water after school and used whatever I made to buy soup ingredients at the market so grandma could cook. If I didn’t sell enough, we would drink garri. 

    In secondary school, I taught myself how to braid hair and charged my friends ₦50 to plait all-back hairstyles for them. During term holidays, I washed plates for ₦500/day at a nearby restaurant. I also braided hair for neighbours and made between ₦100 and ₦200 per client. Most of the money went into buying foodstuff at home and other things I needed, like sanitary pads.

    I’m not proud to say it, but I also started dating people specifically because they’d give me money. The first guy I dated was a conductor in my area. I was 17 then and looking for money to pay for GCE. My dad had refused to send money because I failed WAEC, but I didn’t want to just sit at home. 

    This conductor guy had been toasting me for a while, saying things like,”I’ll take care of you.” So, one day, I just decided to give him a chance. He gave me ₦5k the first time we slept together, and soon enough, I’d gathered the ₦15k I needed for GCE. 

    I got into the polytechnic in 2019. There, I dated a married man for a few months so I could afford a ₦90k/year room — my school didn’t have a hostel. I still did other hustles like braiding hair and selling hair creams, but my income hardly covered my school fees. At this point, my dad wasn’t concerned about me again, so I provided for myself. 

    Things were going pretty well. I could afford to feed myself and handle most of my needs. If I ever got really broke, I could reach out to any of my guys. But then, I got pregnant just as I was rounding up my OND program in 2021.

    I still don’t understand how it happened because I always use a condom. I didn’t even know I was pregnant till I was almost six months pregnant. My period has never been regular, so I didn’t worry when I missed it for two months and when I only bled for two days in the subsequent months. 

    I only visited the hospital when my stomach looked swollen, and I began to feel slight movement. Alas, I was pregnant. 

    Abortion was my first conclusion. The baby’s father was one of my married boyfriends, and I knew he’d ignore me if I even told him. My friend introduced me to a doctor who could help, but one look at my scan results and the doctor refused to do anything. Apparently, I was too far gone.

    Another friend convinced me to get a ₦27k herbal potion that was supposed to “wash it away”, but the only thing the potion did was purge me for three days.

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    I was still mentally calculating my next steps when I had a strange experience. A woman wearing a church’s white garment stopped me on the road behind my house and plainly told me not to get an abortion, or I’d lose my life. I’d seen the woman a few times in the neighbourhood, but we had never interacted. My pregnancy wasn’t even visibly showing. 

    I told her, “Thank you,” and was about to move on when she said, “If you don’t want the baby, just give me please.” She started explaining how she had been married for years without a child and that the Holy Spirit revealed to her that I was about to lose my life trying to abort a child. She began promising to take care of the child and give me anything I wanted.

    At that point, I was worried about attracting too much attention since we were on the road. So, I got us to exchange contacts and promised to contact her.

    Honestly, I was going to ignore her, but I found myself seriously considering her request. It was too late to get an abortion, and I knew without a doubt I couldn’t afford a baby. I was just finishing school and didn’t even have any close family to help care for a baby while I was trying to hustle. My grandma was completely out of the picture; I knew she’d insult my life and send me away.

    My accommodation was also uncertain because my roommates were leaving. I knew paying the rent — which the landlord increased to ₦120k — alone would be difficult on an occasional hairdresser’s income. I had no job, no money, no support and was soon to be homeless. I couldn’t exactly try my boyfriends because of the pregnancy, and I knew it’d be even worse if I became a single mum. The conclusion was clear: I wasn’t financially or even mentally ready for any child.

    So, I called the white garment woman and agreed to give her the child. She took me to her hometown so people in our neighbourhood wouldn’t see me pregnant and then see her with a child without pregnancy. 

    She registered me with a hospital for antenatal care and really took care of me during pregnancy. I didn’t have pregnancy cravings, but I had to fake some cravings when she wouldn’t stop asking if I wanted anything. I think she was just trying to make sure I wouldn’t change my mind. I didn’t.

    After I gave birth in 2022, the woman even asked if I wanted to stay a few weeks longer to breastfeed the child. But I didn’t want to form any connection. She also wanted to give me money, but that felt like I was selling the child. So, I refused. She said I can come see the child whenever I want, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen.

    Since then, I’ve tried to push the whole thing to the back of my mind and focus on making something of myself. I still offer hairdressing services, and last year, I got a ₦60k/month receptionist job. I also started a degree program at the open university earlier this year to get a better certificate while still working. I’ve spent close to ₦90k in school fees so far. It’s worth it because a degree would increase my earning potential.

    Overall, things have been going well. I no longer have to rely on men for money, and I can see a clear path to success. I’m sure I wouldn’t have recorded all this progress if I had a baby to worry about. I also reconnected with my mum this year—she looked for me on Facebook—and we’re repairing our relationship. I don’t think I’ll ever tell her about my child because I’m not sure she’ll understand. I don’t plan to share this with anyone else, either. 

    People will likely judge me, but I don’t care. I made the best decision for both of us. My child has a mother who wants her and can provide for her, and that’s all that matters.

    *Name has been changed for the sake of anonymity.

    NEXT READ: I’m the Easiest Person to Scam, and It’s Not Funny Anymore

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  • Weird as it may sound, some women would rather do gymnastics after sex or the “pull-out” method to prevent pregnancy than actual contraceptives. Why? Because of the widespread misinformation about contraceptive side effects and failures.

    This is why I’m taking it upon myself to dissect all the female contraceptive options available in Nigeria, to help my girlies make informed decisions. PS: Contraceptives don’t rule out the need for condoms. There are still STIs in these streets, babes.

    Birth control pills

    Image: Healthy Women

    Also known as “the pill”, this contraceptive prevents pregnancy by safely stopping ovulation. Without ovulation, there’s no egg for the sperm to fertilise. Meaning no pregnancy.

    There are different types of birth control pills: Combination pills (which contain estrogen and progestin) are the most common type and are taken daily. The mini pill contains only progestin and is better suited for breastfeeding women. It’s also a daily pill. Then there’s the extended cycle pill which reduces the menstrual period to just four cycles in a year. This type is taken continuously for 12 weeks, followed by a one-week break.

    Pros: When taken properly, the pill is 99.9% effective at preventing pregnancy. They can also help regulate your periods, lessen cramps and even clear your acne. It also doesn’t affect fertility. Most users just need to stop the pills to get pregnant.

    Cons: Some pills, especially the mini pills, need to be taken at a certain time daily to be effective. Missing a dosage will make it less effective. You might also experience side effects like spotting between periods, mood changes or blood pressure changes. 

    Where to find it: Most combination and mini pills can be gotten over the counter at pharmacies. But you should always see a doctor before going on the pill to make sure you don’t have pre-existing medical conditions that may make the pill harmful to you.

    Emergency contraceptives, AKA “Plan B”

    Image: Facebook

    Most people know this as “Postinor 2” because it’s the most popular emergency contraceptive brand in Nigeria. Emergency contraceptives contain either levonorgestrel or ulipristal; hormones that prevent fertilisation. 

    As the name implies, it shouldn’t be used as a regular form of birth control. It should only be used in cases like random condom tears, when the “pull out” method disgraces you and your partner or when you miss some doses of your regular birth control pill.

    Pros: It comes in handy in emergency situations, and when taken within 48 – 72 hours of unprotected sex, can be up to 90% effective in preventing pregnancy.

    Cons: Whether you take it immediately or not, if ovulation has already happened, that baby will come into the world. Side effects can include heavier or lighter menstrual periods, nausea and headaches. 

    Where to find it: Levonorgestrel-based emergency contraceptives can be gotten over the counter at any pharmacy.

    Intrauterine Device (IUD)

    Image: Planned Parenthood

    It’s a T-shaped plastic device that’s placed in the womb to make it impossible for the sperm to get to the egg. IUDs can be hormonal (levonorgestrel) or covered with copper. Sperm doesn’t like copper and won’t go near it; levonorgestrel will prevent the eggs from coming out in the first place. IUDs can stay in the body for three to ten years.

    Pros: Inserting the IUD is a pretty quick, painless procedure, and they begin the work immediately — they’re up to 99% effective in pregnancy prevention. Hormonal IUDs can also reduce heavy menstrual bleeding and relieve the pain of endometriosis with long-term use.  

    Cons: Your periods may be more painful and irregular in the first few months of insertion. There’s also the risk of the IUD slipping out of the womb during your period after it’s first inserted. Other risks include infections from the IUD and, if a careless health provider does the insertion, injuries to the uterine wall.

    Where to find it: You should only get an IUD with a doctor or health care provider after proper consultation.

    RELATED: 7 Tips for Having Sex with Endometriosis, According to Yeside

    Contraceptive implant

    Image: Planned Parenthood

    Also called a birth control implant, it’s a small flexible rod-like device implanted into the upper arm. It prevents pregnancy by releasing a slow, steady dose of the progestin hormone to stop ovulation or make it hard for the sperm to reach the egg. Implants usually last three to five years before they become ineffective and need to be replaced.

    Pros: You don’t have to do anything else, so forget about the stress of remembering to take some pill every day. It’s great for breastfeeding women, and it doesn’t have any long-term effects on fertility.

    Cons: Your periods may be irregular, and you have to visit the doctor to remove the implant after it expires. That’s not always a pretty sight.

    Where to find it: You should only get an implant with a doctor or health care provider after proper consultation, as the implant may interfere with other medications.

    Birth control patch

    Image: My Health Alberta

    This works similarly to the implant. It delivers pregnancy-preventing hormones through the skin to the body but has to be changed every week for three weeks to be effective. The week without the patch is usually when you get your period. The patch can be placed on your lower abdominal area, back or upper arm.

    Pros: You don’t have to worry about tablets and needles for this option. It’s also easy to apply and remove.

    Cons: It’s less effective with thicker women. The patch may also cause the body to produce more estrogen than other birth control options and increase the risk of developing blood clots.

    Where to find it: The patch should only be used with a doctor’s prescription.

    Sterilisation

    Image: Aston safety signs

    You can also go the permanent route. Sterilisation options include surgical removal of the womb or tying the fallopian tubes.

    Pros: It’s 100% effective at preventing pregnancy. In other words, no pregnancy scares in your future.

    Cons: You can’t change your mind after the procedure has been done. You’ll also still need to practice safe sex to prevent STIs.

    Where to find it: These procedures should only be done by a licensed doctor or surgeon after extensive consultation.

    NEXT READ: I Want To Help Prevent Women From Dying During Childbirth

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  • Talk True is a Zikoko limited series for medical myth-busting. With each episode, we’ll talk to medical professionals about commonly misunderstood health issues to get the actual facts.

    When it comes to pregnancy in Nigeria, there are multiple myths that just don’t make sense. What do you mean if you walk over a pregnant woman, her child will look like you? Is it spiritual DNA or what?

    But when this conversation trended on X a few days ago, about how the local drink called “zobo” causes miscarriages, we just had to ask: Is this a myth, or is this claim backed by science? We’ve got answers.

    First off, what’s zobo?

    Zobo is a popular Nigerian drink made from dried roselle leaves (Hibiscus sabdariffa). It is also referred to as Sobolo (Ghana) and Bissap Juice (Senegal) and is usually infused with pineapple, ginger and cloves. It’s well-known for some medicinal qualities — antioxidant, anti-hypertensive and anti-obesity.

    ALSO READ: 10+ Benefits of Cloves Sexually for Men & Women

    Does it really cause miscarriages?

    According to Dr Ojo, a gynaecologist in Lagos who’s been practising for over a decade, it is a possibility.

    “The research is sparse, but a number of studies on rats show that hibiscus sabdariffa — the zobo leaves — might stimulate uterine contraction and contribute to maternal malnutrition. You might think, “But we aren’t rats”. However, it’s an indicator that it may be unsafe for pregnant women. 

    Ironically, it can also be bad for you if you’re trying to avoid pregnancy as it contains phytoestrogen, which can disrupt the effectiveness of oestrogen-based birth control pills.”

    Other medical sources also note that zobo can stimulate a menstrual cycle, which isn’t what you want while pregnant. 

    What about the women who didn’t miscarry after taking zobo?

    Dr Ojo confirms that this happens too.

    “Like I said, it is a possibility. What might cause a specific reaction in Person A might not do anything in Person B. 

    There are minimal studies on human subjects to confirm or deny that zobo causes miscarriages, but I’ve personally seen at least one related case. I usually suggest that it’s a risk you’re better off not taking. You have the rest of your life to drink it; nine months won’t do anything.”

    Could pineapples be the problem?

    Pineapple, an important ingredient in most zobo drinks, contains an enzyme called bromelain, which is believed to cause uterine contractions — the “cramps” during menstrual periods and labour. 

    However, a 2015 study found that pineapple juice only caused significant uterine contractions when applied directly to the isolated uterus (womb) of pregnant rats. No contractions were recorded when live pregnant rats ingested pineapple juice. Also, the amount of bromelain found in pineapples doesn’t supply a large enough dose to trigger a uterine reaction.

    So, unless you find a way to bring out your womb and pour pineapple juice on it, or your doctor prescribes avoiding it, it’s safe to take pineapples while pregnant.

    The takeaway

    Zobo may not be the culprit in most miscarriages, but research shows it’s a possibility. The drink may also interfere with oestrogen-based birth control pills to actually lead to pregnancy. 

    But while zobo has numerous other health benefits, pregnant women should avoid it unless their medical providers give the go-ahead. Remember what they say about prevention being better than cure? Exactly.

    NEXT READ: Talk True: Does Facial Hair in Women Mean Hormonal Imbalance?

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  • We’ve heard the terrifying pregnancy and childbirth stories and seen the funniest things pregnancy hormones have made women do, but what about those who got the better end of the stick in the reproduction lottery? They’re people too.

    So, we asked seven of such Nigerian women to share how their pregnancy and childbirth experiences differed from what they expected.

    “I was horny all the time” — Lade, 35

    I have two kids, and my first pregnancy was the standard “preggy mama” starter pack. Nausea in the first trimester, crazy food cravings in the second, and a three-times-larger nose in the third trimester.

    But you see the second pregnancy? I was cruising all through. No nausea or strange cravings, and I was horny all the time. In fact, my husband was running away from me because he was convinced all the sex we were having could harm the baby. The horniness stopped after childbirth, and even after eight weeks I didn’t want. He became the one begging for sex up and down.

    “I had my baby within an hour” — Yemi, 29

    People used to tell me first-timers have it difficult in childbirth. Even my doctor told me we couldn’t take chances, and that we needed to be prepared for an extended delivery process. So, I expected the worst.

    But the day came, and I had my baby within an hour. I was far gone before I realised I was in active labour. I thought it was Braxton Hicks contractions — I’d had them some weeks before — so I delayed going to the hospital. When I got there with my mum, the nurses discovered I was close to 8 cm dilated. I was immediately wheeled into delivery, and an hour later, I was out with my baby.

    “I was a ball of energy” — Mimi*, 25

    It seems fitting that pregnant women should feel tired, right? I mean, we’re literally growing another human being inside of us. But me, I was a ball of energy all through. I never had the pregnancy waddle, and it’s not like I was this fit person before pregnancy. I even rearranged the whole house once because I was bursting with energy. My friends were always telling me to calm down. 

    My son is two now, and I’m beginning to understand why I was so energetic. The boy doesn’t know how to sit down in one place.

    Can you handle the hotness of Zikoko’s HERtitude? Click here to buy your ticket and find out

    “I didn’t know I was pregnant for the first six months” — Joke*, 29

    I always thought these “unaware pregnancies” was a scam until it happened to me. I was six months pregnant before I knew. And how did I know? I started to feel strange movements in my stomach at night, which I initially attributed to gas, but I decided to see the doctor when it became consistent. Voila! They saw a baby in my uterus.

    Nothing could’ve prepared me for it. I still had my periods consistently, and no nausea, sickness or any typical pregnancy symptom. I also didn’t have a bump till two weeks before I put to bed. I’m sure my neighbours lowkey think I stole a baby. 

    “Post-birth recovery was really smooth” — Debby*, 28

    A church member told me that the first poop after giving birth would be painful, so I dreaded it even slightly more than childbirth. I’d also heard many stories about post-birth difficulties.

    Thankfully, my post-birth recovery was really smooth. The poop was still painful, but it was more constipation-ish than the crazy pain I expected. I also had an easy breastfeeding experience, and holding my baby in my arms for the first time wiped away any pain I thought I had. Now, I know why many of our mothers went through this five or six times.

    “I didn’t have stretch marks” — Moyin, 27

    This probably sounds shallow, but stretch marks were one of my biggest concerns with pregnancy and childbirth. I know many people who developed stretch marks and even called it a “badge of honour”. I appreciate the sentiment, but I didn’t want them. For context, I do a bit of modelling, and I didn’t want lasting scars.

    I must’ve used everything in this world during pregnancy. Shea butter, coconut oil and every anti-stretch mark ointment I know. I also didn’t scratch my belly at all. It worked. I’m four months post-partum now, and zero stretch marks.

    “There was no weight gain or huge nose syndrome” — Hannah*, 30

    Weight gain and “huge nose syndrome” is like the hallmark of pregnancy, based on what I’ve seen and heard. But I was pleasantly surprised I didn’t experience either. I practically maintained the same shape throughout my pregnancy, minus the belly, of course, and you couldn’t tell I was pregnant by merely looking at my face. 

    It wasn’t a one-time thing; it was the same experience for my two pregnancies, and I’m grateful for that.

    *Some names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

    NEXT READ: “It’s a Personal Hell” — 7 Nigerian Women on Trying and Failing to Conceive

    Don’t leave without getting your ticket to HERtitude 2023!

  • Yes, babies are cute. But do you know what pregnant people really go through to bring them into this world? From swollen ankles to a broken tailbone, we’ll be ranking all the terrifying reasons why you should simply stay celibate.

    Everyone would know you have sex

    You can’t lie and call yourself a virgin just for the fun of it anymore. There’s now physical proof.

    24/7 morning sickness

    Everything about pregnancy is false advertisement because if it’s called “morning sickness”, why does it happen 24/7? 

    Can’t eat what you want because the foetus might be a picky eater and reject it 

    This is just the child telling you your life no longer belongs to you.

    Huge belly

    Apart from perpetually looking like you’re hauling around two footballs in your belly, people always want to rub said belly. And if you drop something, sorry for you.

    You have to deliver the placenta too

    Giving birth to the actual baby isn’t enough. You also have to push out the organ that grew inside you with your baby.

    Hormone changes may make your sweat blue

    Yes, there’s a possibility of you sweating like a smurf. Take heart, dear.

    Acne breakouts all over your body

    Skincare, where? If you thought your skin didn’t care before, you’re about to be extra surprised.

    You may still get your period and painful muscle cramps

    You thought pregnancy was going to stop aunty Flo? You thought wrong

    Your face swells up

    Do you like puff puff? That could be your face during pregnancy.

    You could get weird cravings like semo and ogbono soup.

    At this point, you just know your child is against you.

    Amniotic fluid embolism

    Cells from the fetal matter can enter the bloodstream and lead to a stroke.

    The baby could paralyse you while napping on your spine

    Now, it’s just a possibility, but God abeg. Why is your child your greatest opp while they are still inside you?

    Their tiny foot might get stuck in your ribs and crack them

    First off, any foot that can crack ribs is not tiny. That baby has the strength of a thousand men.

    Your retina could pop out during labour

    It’s nice to know that your retina could act like a Jack in the Box and just pop out, leaving you blind as a bat.

    Your clitoris might rip too, and you’d probably shit yourself

    It’s giving self-sabotage and public disgrace.

    24hrs+ labour and you can’t eat the whole time 

    Anything more than an hour is too much, so this? Unacceptable.

    You can get multiple surprise babies

    Imagine expecting one baby and getting extras. Who invited them?

    Your uterus could rupture during labour

    There are a lot of things rupturing, and it isn’t inspiring any confidence.

    Finally, you now have a permanent shadow

    After somehow surviving pregnancy and labour, you’d think you’re free, but now you have another human being following you everywhere like a shadow.

    RECOMMENDED: 7 Effective Birth Control Methods For Women

  • A friend of mine shared a pregnancy scare story and the thanksgiving that came with finally getting her period. Babies in this economy? Heck no.

    But then, the conversation shifted to the irony of it all. Some women want to have babies, economy be damned, but it’s just not happening. I spoke to seven ladies, and they told me about not being able to conceive in a society that attaches a woman’s value to marriage and kids.

    “It’s a personal hell”

    — Cara*, 28

    I’ve been married for two and a half years without a child. I had pregnancy scares with my boyfriend (now husband) before we got married, but now that I actually need it, nothing.

    My husband is the only child of his mother, and though she hasn’t said anything, I can interpret the worried looks she gives me any time we visit. We’ve done medical tests, and the results say we’re fine. My husband keeps telling me to ignore it, but isn’t he a man? He can just wake up tomorrow and decide to mess around with someone outside to “test” his fertility. 

    Then there are the womb watchers whose stares linger when I’m slightly bloated from my period or overeating. I can’t let my worries show because people would pounce on it and start giving me stupid advice. It’s a personal hell. I’m tired, please. 

    “I feel very alone”

    — Ijeoma*, 26

    I’ve been trying to conceive since my wedding night three years ago, but so far, it hasn’t worked.

    It’s even more painful because I married young, and everyone thought I’d just start popping out babies. Even now, most people think we just aren’t ready for kids. The few people I told about our struggles made me regret saying anything. Why would you tell someone, “But you still have time now”? I feel very alone because most people my age can’t relate to my struggles. People are just starting to be more vocal about Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), but even that is still shrouded in secrecy and fear of judgement. I desperately want to form an online community, but I’m scared of my friends and family members finding out about this side of me.

    “It feels like a test, and I’m failing”

    — Fadeke*, 33

    I’ve been trying to conceive for four years, and it’s starting to feel like I’m failing at a test. The pressure from our parents isn’t helping. Every time they call, they end with prayers for a baby. My partner and I have tried almost everything from drug supplements, to an IUI and even “womb massages” (traditional women basically pound your lower stomach like yam, all in the name of rearranging your womb). I couldn’t walk for three days after getting the massage, and my period came five days earlier than expected. At this point, I’m just looking at God. If we raise money for an IVF, we’ll try that. If not, I give up.

    RELATED: What She Said: I Am No Longer Pursuing Conception

    “Nigeria isn’t helping matters”

    — Christine*, 39

    I have a blocked fallopian tube, and my husband has low sperm motility. In other words, we have almost zero chance of conceiving naturally.

    I’m fine with it now, but I was a mess when we first got the diagnosis ten years ago. When I saw a pregnant woman on the street, I’d go back home to cry. I once cried when our dog got pregnant and gave birth to five puppies. It was like; even dogs can get pregnant.

    I’m better at managing my emotions now, and we’ve been trying to adopt, but Nigeria isn’t helping matters. We’re hoping to adopt a baby, but it’s next to impossible here because orphanages tend to have older children. We’re still trying, though.

    “I’m focusing on the positives”

    — Dana*, 31

    My partner and I have been trying to conceive for two years with no luck. We decided not to get medical intervention because we didn’t want to focus on negative reports. We just keep our faith strong and trust that God will do it at the right time. At least, I can sleep and wake up anytime I like, cook when I want and just spend time with my partner without interruptions. I’m focusing on the positives. Babies will come when God says so.

    “I’m just tired”

    — Oretha*, 37

    I’ve been married for six years, and I’ve not gotten pregnant once. I’m in my 30s, so I know that’s already a risk factor even though my doctor says I’m medically clear.

    The problem is my husband. He refuses to get tested because he has a son from his baby mama. According to him, if anything was wrong with him, he wouldn’t have his son.

    It’s painful because the societal pressure is on me. People would message with unsolicited advice and invites to prayer sessions. Nobody stops him on the street to say, “I’m praying for you”. It’s just me. I’m honestly considering leaving this marriage.

    “It’s a lot”

    — Ada*, 29

    It’s my fifth year of trying, and frankly, it’s a lot. There are days when you’re happy and filled with hope. Other days, you just cry and cry. My husband tries his best to console me, but he doesn’t fully understand my deep yearning. Without my online infertility support group, I don’t know where I’d be. I tell ladies in similar situations to always look for a community. You can’t walk this road alone.

    *Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

    NEXT READ: What She Said: I Didn’t Know I Was Almost Six Months Pregnant

  • I don’t know if it’s the beat, the “ah” and “ooooh” sounds he likes to make or the relaxed no-stress nature of his voice, but there’s something about CKay’s music that just screams fornication and pregnancy.

    After taking over TikTok and the world with 2019’s Love Nwantiti (ah aha ah), CKay’s debut album, Sad Romance is set to continue his baby-making music legacy. If you don’t believe me, listen to these songs.  

    1. Mmadu 

    If you don’t get pregnant after listening to this song three times in a row, then maybe it’s time to pack your bags and go to Shiloh. This man drops lines like, “I go make you pass out,” and, “Girl, na you go first tap out.” Because of knacks? 

    CKay, relax. Relaaaaax. It’s enough. 

    2. Soja 

    “Punani wet like tsunami. E dey sweet.” Why is anything as wet as a tsunami for God’s sake? Just like Mmadu, Soja is about intense fornication. The type of fornication this song ministers about is the type that’ll have you vibrating like a Nokia 3310. If you want to get pregnant, listen to this song three times a day for three days straight. Three-by-three is the right formula. 

    3. Come Close (feat. Ayra Starr)

    If CKay’s classic R&B-esque “I’m better than the man you’re with” verse on Come Close doesn’t get you pregnant, then listening to Ayra Starr sing right after will definitely do the trick. This babe sang, “I got murder on my mind” and I was literally ready to offer myself as a living sacrifice. 

    4. You

    Imagine telling a doctor you got pregnant listening to a slow amapiano track? Wonders shall never end. CKay opens up the song singing, “Take it, it’s yours,” and while he might not have been talking about babies, a part of me feels that’s what you’ll get when the song finishes its less-than-three-minute runtime. Hope you have Pampers money? 

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    5. Samson and Delilah (feat. Mayra Andrade) 

    We all know Cape Verde is a great tourist destination, but why didn’t anybody care to share that the Cape Verdean native language of Crioulo is this sexy? While CKay’s baby-making vibe are still on full show on Samson and Delilah, it’s Mayra Andrade’s voice that does the magic here. You may not understand what she’s saying, but best believe you’ll feel it deep down. 

    6. By Now

    Someone needs to ask CKay why he likes to fornicate in secret? By Now sounds like the sluttier younger brother of Mmadu and I’m totally here for it. He wants to turn you upside down and make your neighbours know his name. Goodluck with your pregnancy test after listening to this song. 

    7. Emiliana

    The truth is Emiliana probably won’t get you pregnant, but I’m so obsessed with it that there was no way it wouldn’t make my list. 

    ALSO READ: How to Make a Badass Nollywood Action Film, According to “Brotherhood” Scriptwriter, Abdul Tijani-Ahmed

  • There isn’t just one way to experience pregnancy. And I’ve encountered so many different types of pregnant women in this life, I’ve now listed nine of them below.

    The pregnant women who don’t know they’re pregnant

    Some people don’t find out that they’re pregnant until the day they’re in labour. This happens more often than you think. Imagine seeing your period and thinking everything is normal, only for you to “fall sick” and the doctors tell you that you’ve been pregnant for nine months. God abeg.

    The ones who eat the weirdest things 

    My friend once told me that her mom was eating chalk while pregnant, and I haven’t been able to wrap my head around that. There are plenty pregnant women like this: they like things like avocado ice cream, bitter leaf, raw meat, etc. There are also the ones who eat the worst food combinations. I once saw a woman mix egusi soup and porridge beans, and then eat that already ridiculous combo with eba. 

    The pregnant women who don’t like to eat certain things

    There are also the ones who suddenly hate food they loved before they got pregnant. Suddenly, the smell of their favourite soup makes them want to throw up. If my baby makes me hate banga soup, I’ll be very upset.  

    ALSO READ: Why Nigerian Men Should Get Pregnant Instead

    The overly emotional pregnant women 

    Almost every pregnant woman is emotional. But have you met the one who can go through five emotions in less than one minute? It’s interesting to see. 

    The pregnant women who don’t know how to rest 

    Doctors said to take a break and rest, but they’ll start climbing high stools and changing bulbs. It’s after doctor’s advice they’ll realise decide they want to rearrange all the rooms in the house and go to the gym. Aunty, please rest. 

    The pregnant women who are always tired 

    These pregnant women don’t want to do anything but stay in bed and sleep. Left to them, their maternity leave would start from their first trimester. Can you blame them? E easy to carry pikin? 

    The social media afficionados 

    The ones who give you updates on the entire pregnancy journey. From the moment they get pregnant, to their gender reveal, to when they give birth. Very few Nigerian women do this sha — not when their village people exist. 

    The pregnant women who hide their pregnancies 

    You’re casually scrolling through social media one lucky day, and you see that your friend has posted a picture of a newborn baby with the caption “Grateful”. These types of pregnant women are the ones you can trust with any secret. You can kill someone and have them swear not to tell anyone, and they wouldn’t flinch. 

    The well-prepared pregnant women 

    These pregnant women have watched every single video about what to expect when you’re expecting. They’ve read every parenting book and bought everything that has the name baby before it. These expecting mothers are more than prepared. Nothing can catch them unaware… they think. 

    ALSO READ: “How Do I Tell My Parents I’ve Fallen Pregnant Out of Wedlock?”

  • Sex Life is an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.

    The subject of today’s Sex Life is a 35-year-old woman. She talks about learning something new about her sex life with every partner, the “whoremone” that came with her pregnancy and how sex in her 30s is the best thing ever.

    Tell me about your first sexual experience.  

    I was 16 years old when I had sex for the first time. My boyfriend and I had tried multiple times, but we’d stop because it was painful. That day, we decided to just go for it. It ended up being a pleasurable experience. 

    We dated for three years and had sex almost every day. Even when I relocated to Benin Republic for school, I’d go see him once a month. It’s not like Benin Republic is far, plus orgasms are very important. The trips were worth it. 

    RELATED: 5 Nigerians Share the Ups and Downs of Being in a Long-Distance Relationship 

    Was the sex that great? 

    It was very explorative. He was my first physically and emotionally, and he made me feel secure and safe. It was a different kind of special. 

    Too bad we had to end the relationship because we both wanted different things out of life. Plus, he was also cheating. I had to say bye to that. 

    Oops. What then did you say hello to? 

    I got into another relationship when I was 19, and this time, the sex was terrible. At least in the beginning. 

    We both tried to hide just how much we enjoyed sex from the other person. Where we’re from — because we come from the same place — sexual purity is very important. It’s ingrained into our heads from a young age that sex is not allowed till you’re married. So when we did start having sex, we pretended that we both were new to it. 

    Getting comfortable around each other was also difficult because we lived in different states and saw each other for a stretch of time once in three months. 

    How did you eventually overcome it?

    The longer the relationship went on, we talked a lot more and as we spent more time together, we got more comfortable around each other.  That’s when we started having the kind of sex we liked. 

    He was the one that introduced me to period sex. We’d have sex while on my period, and he’d even give me head. At first I was uncomfortable with the idea, but I warmed up to it. It was very sexy. During your period, all the sensations you feel are heightened, so it felt extra great. 

    But all good things must come to an end. Our relationship ended because although the sex was great, he wasn’t a particularly great boyfriend. At this point in my life, although I liked sex, it wasn’t enough to excuse bad behaviour. 

    RELATED: 11 Nigerians Talk About Their Period Sex Experiences

    Love that for you honestly.

    I didn’t start having consistent, close-by sex again until a few months after I broken up with my then-boyfriend. 

    The new man and I worked in different zones of the same office. There was an event that required members from different zones to attend, and that’s how I met him. He was 31. Where I come from, this is a normal age range between couples, so I didn’t feel a kind of way about it. 

    We lived a street apart, so we had sex whenever we wanted, as many times as we wanted. I think I learnt the most about myself sexually during this time. 

    What did you learn? 

    That I enjoy exhibitionism and role play. We’d have sex outside, in cars, elevators, restrooms, pretty much anywhere we had a chance of getting caught. I could never predict where we were going to have sex, but one thing I knew was that as long as our eyes met? Sex was going to happen. Since we worked together and lived so close by, it was bound to happen a lot. It kept me on edge and ready. 

    As regards to role play? It was different. Setting the scene and acting out as anyone really let our minds roam free. I could be a naughty wife that needs punishment, or a sub that has annoyed her dom. I enjoyed it so thoroughly. 

    But?

    He ghosted me after we had been together for almost two years. He asked me to spend Christmas in his place. After about two days, he travelled and didn’t tell me. His numbers were switched off and he wasn’t replying my messages. This went on for almost a week. By the time he came back, I had moved on. He told me he went to get a ring to propose, but that was his business. I couldn’t tolerate a man that felt comfortable ghosting me for days. My 22-year-old self was done with his ass. 

    After him, I started dating another man. We dated for about five months and for the first three months of the relationship, he never made any attempts to get physical with me. I was a bit worried and even asked him if his penis had issues. He said it didn’t, but he just didn’t believe in sex before marriage. Me on the other hand, I believed in it, so we had sex. It wasn’t particularly exciting, and we broke up shortly after. 

    Dating him made me realise that sex isn’t a priority for me in a relationship. He was a very sweet person and I had a lot of fun just being with him.  As much as I enjoy it and liked having it, I’d never leave a good relationship built on the foundation of friendship because of sex. This one ended because his parents didn’t like me. I was distraught and sad, but not for long. In the midst of my sadness, I met someone else and we eventually got married when I was 23. 

    How was married woman sex like? 

    I won’t say I know exactly how all married women have sex, but my sex life became very mid. Not because of the marriage but because of who it was with. 

    While we were dating, we had sex a few times, but after the wedding, he came up with a bunch of rules. He said my kissing was too sloppy and he didn’t like it, that he wasn’t going to give and receive head either and that my moaning was “sluttish.”

    Ah. 

    When he gave all these instructions, sex no longer became fun for me, but rather, something I partook in. I wasn’t able to express myself the way I wanted because sex with him had to be done a certain way. 

    The thing is that some men have a very specific conditioning when it comes to sex. They had this puritanical upbringing, and so sex with women they marry should be conducted in a certain way.

    Even when I got pregnant, the sex was still just something I just participated in. 

    How was sex while pregnant? 

    I was 23 years old when I had my first child, and I call pregnancy the “whoremone” because I got a huge libido increase. My body was constantly ready to have sex. 

    If he was available, we’d have sex. If he wasn’t, I’d use my sex toys. If I didn’t feel like using my sex toys, I’d just rest and try to get along with my day. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: Getting Pregnant Made Me Hate Sex

    Did it stay that way after the baby was born? 

    No, my libido dropped. For the first six weeks, doctors advised for there to be no penetration because my body was trying to heal, and I followed that religiously. 

    Even after the six weeks were up, I still had to deal with body images. Pregnancy changes your body, and you have to learn to like the new body you have. Then with the stress of taking care of a newborn? Sex was the last thing on my mind. My sex drive eventually picked back up when the child was about four to six months old. 

    We had another child together, but the relationship ended after ten years. We got divorced the year I turned 32, and I decided to start enjoying sex once more. It’s been delicious. 

    Why’s 30+ sex so great? 

    One day, the sex drive just hits you. You go to bed like a normal person, then you wake up with a puddle in between your legs. You’re energised, and you feel your best and the orgasms you have are way more intense. 

    Since I’m older now, my body looks absolutely amazing and I feel good as well. I also have more money that I can use to take care of myself. Everywhere I turn, there’s someone that wants me. There’s constantly someone in my life catering to my sexual needs, and I’m having a whole lot of sex. It’s great. 

    I’ve had a bit of experience, so I know what I want and what I don’t. I’m very clear on those things when I meet a new partner, and it takes away the awkwardness that comes with having sex. I’m much more comfortable in my sexuality. 

    Interesting! How then will you rate your sex life on a scale of 1-10? 

    I’d give my sex life an 8. The only reason it’s an 8 is because the person I’m currently seeing is just as busy as I am, so we don’t have sex as frequently as I’d like. If the frequency increases, it’ll probably be a 10. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: I Went From Having Trash Sex to Having 28 Orgasms in a Day

  • As told to Conrad

    Are women the only ones who struggle with infertility? This is a question that has stuck with me for a while now. Maybe it’s the Nollywood films about looking for the fruit of the womb or the hundreds of religious activities that centre women looking to “complete” their family, either way, it seems like men are excluded from this narrative. To answer this question, I started asking questions of my own and that’s how I met Kolapo*. 

    Looking to start a family of his own, the 38 year-old was shocked when he realised he was the cause of his family’s infertility struggles. I asked him to tell me a little bit about his story, and this is what he said. 

    For as long as I can remember, the idea of having children had always been a core part of who I was as a person. I remember being asked as a child what I’d like to be when I grew up, and my answer — to my mother’s greatest embarrassment — was something along the lines of, “I want to be a daddy.” But after all the struggles my wife and I have been through in trying to have a child, given the choice, I doubt I’d still choose to be a dad. I’m exhausted. 

    I met my wife Tolu* in my second year of university. Even though we’d been in the same year and attended the same classes, we didn’t really notice each other until she became the assistant course representative. These days, I fondly remind her of her terrorist behaviour back then; she was the class’” I Too Know” asking extra questions in class and making sure everyone submitted their assignments on time. But I’ll never forget the day she randomly helped me prepare for a test throughout the night when she didn’t have to. Since then, we’ve been inseparable. By the time we got to final year, we were in love and we  could weather any storm together. 

    We graduated, got decent jobs and got married. We could provide the necessities and still travel to Western countries every once in a while. By Nigerian standards, we were balling. For the first two years, we didn’t want kids because we wanted to have a good time and figure out our dynamic without the pressure of someone crying or wanting to suck breasts or something. We had a good time. However, it was when we eventually decided to start having kids that life just started to turn into a pot of spoiled beans. 

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    We took out pregnancy pills from the equation and started going at it. We both enjoy having sex, so no one needed to tell us to off pant and get busy. We did this for about a year, but crickets. Nothing happened. My wife and I didn’t read much into it, after all, we were still having fun. But when our families started adding their question marks to the equation, we decided it was time to find out what was going on. 

    I never got tested because I just assumed we were fine. Tolu, on the other hand, was poked and prodded with needles like some guinea pig for months on end. She desperately wanted answers, and while all the doctors said nothing was wrong with her, she still couldn’t get pregnant. Our families piled on the questions because we were both first children in our respective homes and they just wanted to see their grandkids. More questions and jokes about pregnancy made Tolu stressed and insecure. Even though I reminded her that she was enough and maybe we just needed to chill for a bit, she was already invested in this baby thing and there was no stopping her. 

    Following the advice of a friend at the end of last year, Tolu eventually asked me to get tested too. I didn’t think it was a big deal, after all, as a virile Nigerian man, I couldn’t be the reason for our childlessness. But everything changed when the doctor called to tell me that I had no viable sperm left in my body. I sat there, losing my shit in silence as I prayed and waited desperately for someone to wake me up. 

    After I got off the phone with my doctor, I left work immediately and headed back home to talk to my wife. It was the most difficult discussion I had ever been involved in. She had a straight face throughout as I gave her a detailed account of what the doctor had told me over the phone. For a second, I thought she was going to leave me. Instead, she held my hands and told me we’d be alright. Since then, every time I start to panic about something, I think back to this conversation and what she told me and it helps me power through h. 

    CONTINUE READING: 5 Nigerian Fathers on How They Fell in Love with Their Babies

    Telling my wife was one thing, but telling our families? Omo, it was crazy. To this day, my mum doesn’t believe my condition is medical — to her, all of this could be solved if only we prayed more often and “moved in faith”. There was a lot of crying, casting and binding on my parents’ side, but that didn’t change anything .

    I wish the questions and shady comments came from only our families. But, as with typical Nigerian settings, neighbours, church members and work colleagues also poked their noses in my family’s business. asking about kids and when we were going to have some of our own. It was harder on Tolu because just like I assumed at the start of our pregnancy journey, a lot of people immediately assume she’s the problem, and I can’t go around trying to correct that impression. If I could, I would, but most of them wouldn’t even believe me anyway; they’d just assume I was trying to protect her. 

    I feel guilty because not only did a part of me feel it was her fault initially, I actually hoped it was her fault. How many times have you heard that a man was the one behind a couple’s infertility issue? It’s always women, so I don’t know why my case is different. I’ve spent the past few months depressed and feeling like shit. Knowing I can’t father my own kids makes me feel like a failure as a man. 

    I’m still grieving this loss and trying to make sense of it.

    My wife has asked that we look into adoption, but honestly, I’m over it — not the adoption, just kids in general. The failure of not being able to father my own children has become too much of a burden to bear, and it has thrown me off having children in general. I don’t know how to tell her I don’t care for kids anymore, especially after all she went through with tests and looking for answers. I’ll go with it, but I don’t know If I’d be able to fully love the child as I should. I’m willing to work through this and I’m seeing a therapist now, but it’s going to be a long journey. I feel like I’ve ruined everything, so building it back is going to take some time. 

    ALSO READ: 5 Men Share What They Wish They Knew Before They Became Fathers