Nigerian Women and Contraception.
By: Fikayo Akeredolu
Tags: Women, Contraception, Nigeria, Choices, Sex

Welcome to the series about Nigerian Women and their Sexual and Reproductive health.

The goal of this series is to start a conversation about how Nigerian women own their bodies and create a safe space for women to talk about their sexual and reproductive choices.

Nigerian society has not always given women permission to own their bodies and use them as they please, I hope that by telling these stories Nigerian women realise that they do not need this permission and they are allowed to firmly make and own their choices.

For all the women reading this, the most important thing is that you know that you have options. Birth control is readily and somewhat affordably available to you from places like Marie Stopes and Planned Parenthood. For those who have been sexually abused, organisations like Stand to End Rape can support you.

This series will cover the stories of different women who have sought contraception for different reasons, the side effects they have faced, the decisions they have made and the outcomes and consequences they live with. All of these women have bravely chosen to share their stories so I hope that you will read and empathise without judgement or derision.

Before we delve into these stories, some facts about female sexual reproductive health in Nigeria for you. You must understand these facts because they are the backdrop against which the women in the series have lived their lives and made their choices.

Out of approximately 45 million women in Nigeria of reproductive age (15–49), 15.7 million would like to avoid a pregnancy.

Only 14% of this group have access and can use safe, effective and modern methods of contraception.

The side effect of this is seen in the proportion of unintended pregnancies to total pregnancies in the country; out of 10.3 million pregnancies in Nigeria, 24% were unintended.

Women unable to access modern contraception methods accounted for 90% of all unintended consequences.

Of the women who do not want to be pregnant, the proportion of women who cannot access contraceptive services is highest among women living in households in the poorest wealth quintile (92%) than among women living in households in the richest quintile (45%).

More than half of these unintended pregnancies end in abortion.

Abortion is illegal in Nigeria, this means women who go through the procedure are often at risk of infection, complication and death. Each year in Nigeria, 61,000 women die from complications of birth, abortion or miscarriage.

These numbers are scary and it is not hard to see why they are so high.

According to the World Health Organisation, the average age of first sexual intercourse in Nigeria is 15. Despite this young age, sex before marriage is still seen as taboo meaning that there are women unable to freely speak about what is happening to their bodies simply because they are not married.

Sexual education in Nigeria is sparse, often non-existent. In 2017, Nigerians were divided as the comprehensive sex education (CSE) curriculum was introduced in schools to give students an understanding of sex and their sexuality. A Junior Secondary School (JSS 1) Social Studies textbook written by S. O. Omotuyole came under fire after being accused of encouraging masturbation and sexual promiscuity. The Association of Concerned Mothers (ASCOM) went as far as petitioning the Ministry of Education to withdraw the textbook for its “unwholesome and dangerous ideology” and change the curriculum.

Also, some in Nigerian society believe that contraception will promote promiscuity. As a deeply religious country, some citizens believe that contraception goes against the will of God. In 2012, when then-President Goodluck Jonathan advised citizens to take precautions that ensured they only had the number of children they could afford, he was criticized by Christians and Muslims a like for trying to prevent the will of God.

A 2014 Pew research study found that 54% of Nigerians see contraception as immoral with some going as far as claiming that the use of contraception for any reason including family planning is a western imposition meant to allow for the continuation of colonisation and African population control.

There is also a general fear and mistrust of contraceptives even among those willing to use them. Rumours persist about contraceptives not working, having gory side effects and sometimes causing infertility.

So, you see, a toxic mix of religious beliefs, misinformation and cultural ideology has created a world where Nigerian women are often unable to make their own choices at the risk of social stigma. Nigerian women are often victims of a society that does not let them own their bodies in a way that lets them decide if and when to have children.

In 2017, the Nigerian government committed to attaining a modern contraceptive prevalence rate of 27% among all women aged 15­–49, irrespective of marital status, by 2020. I have no updated data sets to confirm if this goal has been met. What the data I have does show is that if all unmet need for modern contraception in Nigeria were satisfied, unplanned pregnancies would fall to 555,000 from 2.5million per year resulting in a decline in abortions from 1.3million a year to 287,000 a decline in the annual number of unplanned births would from 885,000 to 200,000.

Nigerian women deserve these solutions, they deserve openness and honesty as they discuss the choices they are making with their bodies. I want this series to open a conversation about the choices available, I want to remove the stigma and ensure that the women coming after me know that they have options and can make better choices.

I started this series because while trying to figure out what form of contraception was best for me; I didn’t see the stories of Nigerian women. I couldn’t find women in the same social, political and economic situation as me, telling their stories and being honest about their experiences.

As we delve into this series, my only ask is that everyone reading this be respectful and kind to the women who shared their stories. In the cases where you do not agree with their choices and you have nothing kind to say, please say nothing.