Sometimes, life puts you in messy situations where you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing or not. That’s what Na Me F— Up? is about — real Nigerians sharing the choices they’ve made, while you decide if they fucked up or not.
Charity* (30) and Patience*(30) met at university and quickly became best friends.
However, after a traumatic experience accompanying Patience to an abortion clinic years ago, Charity refused to go with her a second time, and now her best friend has completely iced her out. When you’re done reading, you’ll get to decide: Did Charity fuck up or not?
This is Charity’s dilemma as told to Betty:
Patience and I met at university in 2013. We were bunkmates in our first year, and it was as if something magnetic drew us together. We became friends almost immediately.
We shared the same hobbies and interests, so it didn’t take long before we became friends. Even our families grew close, too. It felt like I suddenly had four parents instead of two. Everywhere in school, people knew us as a pair. We were like sisters.
Because of how close we were, we told each other everything. So in our final year, in 2017, when Patience told me she’d accidentally gotten pregnant, I knew we had to do something. I couldn’t imagine the kind of trouble we’d both face if our parents found out.
Unfortunately for us, we were sheltered kids who didn’t even know where to get an abortion, let alone a safe one. It took a while, but after almost two months of anxiety, Patience came bearing good news. Someone had given her a doctor’s number for the procedure. He was expensive, but we pooled our allowances together and managed to raise the money.
A few days before the procedure, Patience visited me. She tearfully begged me to follow her to the clinic, even though the doctor had told her to come alone. She feared things would go wrong, like the stories we’d seen on television. I was scared too, but I wanted to stand by my friend, so I agreed.
It was one of the worst experiences of my life.
The “clinic” was a family house in a run-down neighbourhood. The “doctor” looked like a complete quack. He led us into a dark, smelly room and carried out the procedure there. Patience was in so much pain. She squeezed my hand while lying on a wooden bench, and even though I tried to stay strong, I couldn’t handle her screams.
The moment the doctor finished, I ran outside and threw up. I was sweating and hyperventilating. When I tried to stand up, I got dizzy and fainted.
When I woke up, the doctor laughed at me and said I was behaving like an “Omo butter”. We both left that place shaken. Patience stayed with me for a few days while she recovered, and thankfully, she didn’t have any complications.
But that experience stayed with me for a long time. I couldn’t eat or sleep well for weeks. I also had difficulties studying, my grades suffered, and I became scared of hospitals. I never blamed Patience for any of this. I was just glad that we found a solution that didn’t scatter our lives. Still, the trauma of that experience stayed with me for a long time.
Over the years, Patience and I have maintained our close friendship, even as we embraced adulthood. However, something else is threatening to undo decades of friendship and sisterhood.
In late April, told me she was pregnant again, and she didn’t want to keep it. I was worried, but I supported her decision. Then she asked me to accompany her to an abortion clinic again.
I immediately declined. Even while we discussed it, I could feel myself getting dizzy and sweating, despite sitting in an air-conditioned room. Patience begged me profusely, but I explained that I genuinely couldn’t handle being in that kind of situation again.
I thought once I explained how badly the first experience affected me emotionally and mentally, she’d understand. Instead, she got upset and said she always knew I’d secretly judged her for the first abortion, and that I wasn’t as supportive as I liked to think I was. I tried to reason with her, but we couldn’t get on the same page.
Since then , she hasn’t spoken to me, responded to messages or taken my calls. Whenever our parents ask after her, I lie and say she’s fine. But honestly, apart from what she posts on her stories, I don’t know how she’s doing.
I have no one to talk to about this because I don’t want her business turning into gossip.
Still, a part of me wonders if I was wrong for refusing to heed her request. Did I fuck up?
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