A Life Unheard

NOVEMBER, 2024 I jolted awake to the sound of raised voices piercing through my eardrums. Groggily, I struggled to sit up, disoriented and confused. That's when I heard my name being shouted - "Nana!!" - my mother's voice, laced with urgency and desperation. Without thinking, I sprang out of bed and rushed to her room, my heart racing with anticipation. As I entered, I saw my mother standing, her eyes blazing with anger and disappointment. "Na'am, mummy," I replied as an arewa girl would do, still trying to shake off the sleep, my voice barely above a whisper. But before I could even process what was happening, a stinging slap landed across my face, sending shockwaves through my entire body. I stumbled backward, reeling from the pain and the unexpectedness of it all. As I looked around, I saw my brothers sitting on the rug beside my mother's bed, their faces emotionless, their eyes avoiding mine. My sisters stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock and fear. And then, my mother's words cut through the air, like a knife to my soul: "So, you had an abortion." The room began to spin, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of shame and guilt. How did she know? Who told her? And what would happen next?