I was eighteen.
Fresh out of school.
I had just started my first proper job working in a residential home that supported people with mental health difficulties. It was supposed to be a simple summer job. A chance to earn some money. A chance to get some work experience.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
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Hiding the Pregnancy
At first, I hid it. I hid the symptoms. I hid the fear of my aunt finding out. Deep down I already knew I wanted this baby, even though I was young and scared. I accepted the pregnancy quietly in my own heart long before anyone else knew. In my own way I was already choosing motherhood before I even said it out loud.
I was carrying a life.
I kept the pregnancy a secret until one day a letter from the doctor arrived through the post. My aunt saw it. She opened it. She read the words I had been trying hard to avoid. Suddenly the secret was out.
Family Pressure and Isolation
Everything happened fast after that.
The atmosphere changed.
Family members in England and in Sierra Leone were informed.
I was told to stay with my gran. I remember that night clearly. She picked me up, took me to her workplace because she worked late hours, and I sat in the quiet while she finished her shift. We travelled home in the early morning and I felt small, scared and powerless. It felt like everyone was making decisions about my life except me.
Once I settled at her house, the pressure began. There were family gatherings, phone calls being made to my mum in Sierra Leone, and conversations happening behind my back. Everything they told my mum, she agreed with. She also told me an abortion was the only option for me.
I was told I needed an abortion.
I was told it was the only option.
I was told my life would be ruined if I continued the pregnancy.
I was told they would only accept me having a boyfriend if I ended the pregnancy.
I was told I could not leave the house until I agreed.
I was told I could not return to my summer job until it was done.
My phone was taken away.
My independence was gone.
I felt trapped.
And the most painful part is that they put me through all of this, forcing me toward an abortion, yet my gran had my aunt when she was just fourteen. Knowing that now, it feels even more cruel. They knew what it meant to be young and pregnant, but instead of supporting me and giving me the option, they chose control and punishment.
Trying to Escape
One day I messaged my boyfriend telling him I planned to run away. The message was seen. The situation became even stricter.
Eventually I gave in.
Not because I wanted to.
But because I saw no way out. I had no choice. It was just me and a team of adults telling me what I must do.
I verbally agreed to the abortion.
An appointment was booked.
My aunt and her sister took me to the abortion clinic for examination.
The date was set.
The decision was made for me.
Once the appointment was confirmed, they relaxed a little and allowed me to return to work.
The Moment Everything Changed
I was now able to leave the house for work. I had to take the train because of the distance. That morning I felt weak and nauseous from morning sickness and the heat of a packed train, but I held onto the rail and kept going.
I reached my workplace. I had to explain why I had not been coming to work. I felt relieved that I was no longer stuck in that environment.
And somewhere in that moment, the truth settled inside me.
I knew I could not go back.
I knew I would not return to that house.
I knew I could not go through with the abortion.
I knew that choosing motherhood was more important to me than anything they threatened me with.
So I left with nothing except the clothes on my body.
No bag.
No money.
No passport.
No ID.
No plan.
Just me and my unborn baby.
Walking away with nothing was terrifying, but choosing motherhood gave me a strength I did not even know I had.
