Wednesday, February 24, 2010


The first time I saw my little feet was when I visited Afara Leadership Centre recently. I had gone there for the first alumni meeting of the Leadership Development Programme (LDP), where I had a one- year leadership training. It was small yet so beautiful, I wondered at the sight of the little feet, carefully impaled on my friends shirt. What could this mean? I thought, it does not look like an accessory but was beautiful and had this mysterious thing about it that keeps drawing you back to it. I tapped my friend and asked her what the little feet broche is all about. Yes. I thought it was just a broche at first, but I became curious because I kept turning back to look at it. Toke explained to me later that the little feet is an awareness broche for the campaign against abortion. Oh! I gaped, trying to cover my already O shaped mouth, I had already thought a ten week old unborn baby’s feet as a broche (that is how it seems to me though). A thought crept inside me, as I held the tiny feet in my right hand; this is how my feet actually look like when I was ten weeks old. These feet could be anybody, at least I passed that stage. Immediately I was endeared to these feet, I felt like I was carrying a tiny soul in my hand (call me omomomo; a child) this is my first close encounter with it. I was eloped with a sudden kind of responsibility to protect this child in my own little way, I decided to tell anyone and everyone, especially girls about my little feet, and how I want them to protect it.
Eager to have mine, I went to Peju, a friend at the center who was giving it to out to other girls as long as you were willing and confident to talk to people about abortion (and also pray for these little feet). She gave me mine and I hugged it; don’t ask me how. (I am going to be a mother soon, and if I do not feel any pity, I don’t know what else to feel) These feet just kept making me ask questions, What if these little feet were Barack Obama’s; at least that could have been possible considering the fact that his father was a Kenyan and his mum an American native, the marriage was not totally accepted, and to add his father left him at a tender age. You know what this means? That Americans would not have been boasting of a black president (it is just a thought) and many, many more thoughts came. More like what anybody would have logically thought of, you know. Just a thought.
Alas! Few days after I collected it, I lost my little feet at the crowded Yaba market on my way from work, did you say ah? I spent close to ten minutes looking for my little feet, my friend Tayo joined me after I told her what it means. She felt the same way, too, it was not just me after all, we searched the whole place but didn’t find my little feet. Abortion as I know is battling with morality; some countries must have legalized it (I am not sure), so that it becomes right at the expense of innocent sweet tiny souls who never asked for it. Abortion is never the answer (I know so). Personally, I think these cuties should be sent to orphanage homes after birth (if their mothers cannot cope with them)at least the issue will be to cater for these kids either through adoption or other means of support. And for the married women, family planning is the option but if it mistakenly comes, don’t you think that the child is meant to stay? I read recently in a Sunday punch that a 35—year old woman (married) died during abortion, and to think that this woman had only one child (not four or five), I find this amazing and I am still trying to find out why? Whatever reason it is, this child should not bear the consequence, he wants to live too, like me , you and every other person.
Please, if you see my little feet, can I have it back? And while it is with you protect it. An abortion could mean, the murder of an important personality, it does not even have to be, at least he is a human—he should live!

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