Adam and Eve were two remarkable fellows. I had a great interview session with them. One that left me and probably you too with an actively thinking mind, trying to reflect and comprehend on all the insights you got. But this interview today…
I am interviewing a baby, an aborted baby at that and I don’t know what to expect. I’ve been having this hunch however, that this would be remarkably different from that of Adam and Eve’s.
At least for one I don’t have to bother with what to wearsince I’m only but interviewing a baby, or so I think. Just between me and you, what would a baby even know?
Getting in touch with the aborted baby proved harder than I thought, and I don’t know what to make of this difficulty. Not like I know why it happened this way, but I was compelled to go through lots of soul searching, self-examination, mental purification and I had to consciously place my thoughts under scrutiny before I was eventually able to secure the interview.
For a writer like me who is so close to being mentally derailed due to the habit of always writing the truth, even under mentally aggressive circumstances, it hasn’t been easy embracing normalcy again. But if this state of mind is what it takes to access yet another level of truth and to hear another side of the story yet again, then it is worth it.
Which colour of tie do I wear? I have black, blue and red. Can you help me pick?
Did I hear someone say red? Okay, red it is. It should go well with my white shirt too. Don’t sneer at me if you think this is a fashion blunder though, because all I’ve been interested in most of my life has been the magical workings of ink on paper, and not the patterns of ripped jeans, classic suits, Rolex wristwatches, and other things that you fashionistas like to be bothered about.
I am about to knot my tie when I look in the mirror again, and I freeze at my spot.
Red and white make such a glaring contrast, and for an unknown reason it reminds me of blood on a white cloth.
This gives me chills. There’s something about the bloody redness that agitates me, I can’t just make sense of it.
I pull off the tie hurriedly and put the blue one on instead. Sorry to whoever suggested the red tie, but that can’t work.
I take one last look at the mirror before getting my recorder and slipping it into my pocket, also picking my pen and pad. I forcefully had to upgrade from use of pen and paper after encountering a man like Adam whose verbal swiftness left me chasing after his words while trying to document everything, and also battling the urge not to just drop the pen and wallow in the mental pool of sober reflection that Eve’s words on the other hand created.
I walk out and close the door of my little hut behind me. It’s located right in the middle of truth forest, in case you ever want to pay me a visit.
I begin to transcend to a realm I do not know, and suddenly I wonder why I trust so much, enough to place my life into the palm of the unknown, and to willingly make these mystical journeys that take me to other realms without a guarantee that I would actually get there.
The journey seems unending and endless for a little while, especially as I am unaware of the passing of time without a working wristwatch. Whenever I transcend into these realms, every man made mechanic device I am with automatically stops worki… Oh no! How could I have forgotten? The recorder would be completely useless where I am going to because it just won’t work too! Sigh, seems like I am back to writing with my pen and…
I suddenly land in a brightly lit space with no signs of a wall or an end around. It’s like the room stretches out far beyond the reach of my eyes.
This is a welcoming difference to the depressing realm I interviewed Adam and Eve in. This room however has a feel of nothing to it, and it’s weird. It’s like I can’t access any of my strong emotions and all I feel is numbness, but the numbness is a strong feeling on its own. It’s quite overwhelming.
I sense a feeling of great loss too.
As I process all that goes on with me, trying to properly categorize and put labels on every experience, I sight something that appears like a mirage at the far end of the white room and it’s the only different thing from the white all around. I watch keenly and observe as it gets closer, and soon I can make out the figure of a being, a being in a baby’s body, floating, as I don’t see the legs or any part of its body moving, and as it gets closer, I immediately feel grossed out.
The baby is all bloodied up, with dried blood clothing at strategic locations on its body, and I see gory cuts and bruises around the head and limbs. As the baby comes to a halt in from of me, everything about his looks appears to be babyish, except its eyes and demeanor. Its eyes seem to have a purpose, as if he comprehends all that’s happening around, and soon I answer the question I had earlier asked you.
What would a baby even know?
This baby seems to know everything. At least that’s how I feel gazing down into its eyes from where the baby is below me.
I am drawn out of the gaze of its eyes, and back to how bloodied up and messy it looks, naked, bruised, somewhat deformed, and terribly bloody.
“Why do you appear that way? Is that the form you permanently take?” I ask, unable to hide how unnerving it is to see the baby in such appalling body.
“No, but it’s the only form I can use to come to meet you” it speaks. Its voice sounds beautiful like the sound of running waters. Such contrast to how its body looks.
“Is it not after all, my own body that was only ruined by the doctor, with the consent of the woman who was supposed to house me?”
“And where is this place?” I ask again
“A common ground for this meeting. I can never come to where you dwell, as I was rejected from your world, and you cannot come to where I dwell either, so this place was fixed. Can we get on with the interview? I hate the feel and the memories that comes with being in this body”
I nod and the baby signals for me to sit, I turn to look around and I find a hospital bed behind me.
I turn to find the baby seated on a hospital bed too, opposite from where I am still standing.
“A hospital bed?”
“What do you want? A throne?” it asks me sarcastically, and I take one final look before sitting down
“Let’s begin already” I whisper and pull out my pen and pad
Truth Zombie: so tell us about yourself
Aborted baby: I am the aborted baby
Truth Zombie: yes we know that, but we would love to know more about your personality, something else about you that we don’t know.
Aborted baby: I don’t know much about myself either. I was killed before I got to know anything tangible. I just know I’m the aborted baby that wasn’t given a chance to life. Possibly I could have been the next big thing, the next mega star, world’s next billionaire, philanthropist, revolutionary politician, motivational speaker, the person with the large heart spreading positivity all around, and a lot more, but we would never find out would we?
Truth Zombie: probably not
Aborted baby: yes.
Truth Zombie: from your words exactly, talking about being killed, it means you believe that you were once a living being…
Aborted baby: it’s really not subject to personal beliefs you know, whether I or anybody believes or not. It’s as simple as this; I was a living being. I was completely alive, with all the elements of a living being found in me, only at its most tender stage.
Truth zombie: okay. But then a lot of people argue that a fetus is only but a fetus and not a being and is not alive. Some argue that you can’t be classified as a human being until the point of delivery when you take in your first breath. What do you have to say about this?
Aborted baby: (stays silent for half a minute staring at nothing)
Truth Zombie: hello?
Aborted baby: if what you were carrying in your womb was at any point in time not a human being, then you were never pregnant. Find a name and an explanation for what made your stomach swell, and what caused your monthly flow of blood to cease, but it was definitely not pregnancy. I was a living being, alive and sensitive to everything around me, comprehending it all with my developing senses, and eagerly waiting for my time of delivery, for I knew that something else waited beyond the walls of the womb that I was in. It is just absurd to try to convince yourself about the absence of life in a being that breathes feeds, responds to stimuli, moves and grows, just so you can feel less guilty about having to commit murder. Running away from the truth or allowing yourself to be deceived doesn’t change what the truth is. It only soothes your conscience and emboldens you to do something as wrong as abortion. Summary is, I was a living being and nobody should take away my ultimate characteristics of life from me and liken me to a lifeless substance, just to pursue an evil course. Every baby in the womb is a living being, completely alive and sensitive.
Truth Zombie: okay. Thanks for that one. So let me ask; in general, what’s your take on abortion?
Aborted baby: (seems to be getting emotional) abortion is an unjustifiable act of violence rendered to a human being at its most defenseless state. Abortion is murder, murder of a being whose security was supposed to be yours to ensure. Abortion is the height of cruelty and wickedness, no matter what the reason for it is. Abortion was simply robbing me of my right to pick life over death, because someone believed she had a right to do what she wanted to do with her body. You have the right to do what you want with your body, I can’t argue that but don’t deceive yourself, I was not and never was your body. I was a being only temporarily fused with your body, a product of the miraculous encounter between an egg and a sperm, a combination of parts of two bodies, given a soul to perfect its being.
Abortion is trying to undo a mistake by making an even more consequential mistake. Abortion is an act of wickedness in a costume of philosophy and stupid explanations, and simply put, abortion is wrong. If for no reason it’s wrong, the pain and the stigma of rejection that I went through is enough to make it wrong. The constant and violent waste of lives of the unborn all over the world on a daily basis, with the back and the support of the law should make it wrong already.
Abortion doesn’t undo pregnancy. It just makes you the mother of a dead baby. A baby that you murdered.
Truth Zombie: wow, such deep words you have spoken. You seem to have so much passion talking about the issue. It’s obvious that you are talking about this issue from an up-close personal level, so permit to ask a question I sense would be sensitive to you. What was your abortion process like? Did you feel any pain? Were you conscious of what was happening?
Aborted baby: that single process has dauntingly traumatised all of my being, and left me thinking over and over, how short sighted my supposed mother could have been to dispose of a priceless jewel like me, just because she convinced herself that it was not the right time to have me. Perhaps she should have considered that before she took the step would lead to my inception.
The pain of the process has sadly imprinted permanently in my mind, and every time I unconsciously relish that moment in my mind, I feel all over, insane levels of distress and agony, coupled with a sense of anger at my mother who instigated the whole thing, just to spare her the choice of facing the responsibilities of her earlier choice.
Because she chose the easier way over the hard way
The pain I felt during the process of the abortion was particularly doubled and intensified than any pain an adult would feel, because of the vulnerability and sensitivity of the phase I was in.
I was yanked out of my mother’s womb through D and E, where I was torn apart limb from limb and then pulled out of my mother’s and disposed like waste, and the scrutinizing pain I felt when my bones were torn apart from each other, and my skull was crushed. I would have probably screamed all the way through if I could express pain at that moment, but I couldn’t. I just laid there feeling the worst of it as a doctor without a soul, who knew for sure that I was a living being, completely mutilated me. Some of my mates probably had it worse. One narrated to me that he was brought out of his mother’s womb still alive with a heart beating. A nurse who was probably stuck in the wrong job because of the way she cried when she saw a bloodied, mutilated, but still living premature baby, still had to go and dispose of him. Now tell me, isn’t that murder?
(There is a silence that stretches out for a long period)
…tell me, Truth Zombie. Wasn’t I supposed to worth more than what somebody could do away with simply because I was inconveniencing to deal with? Even when the person made the choice to have me by doing what anybody desiring to have a baby did, by having sex.
And even those who were forced to have sex without consent, why couldn’t just see beyond their pain and agony and realize that they were now making a decision for two people and the little one in the picture desperately wanted to live?
(Another silence, there is little sounds of sulking, and the baby becomes quit shaken)
There is no abortion process that is easy, maybe some might be easy for the mother to deal with, but it’s never easy on us the aborted child, but this is never taken into consideration, because after all we are some irrelevant gift of God, that some people believe they have a choice to either accept or reject. Some of my mates were aborted through salt poisoning, hysterotomy abortion and suction aspiration, and many others. For all of the process, one thing is mutual; pain. Agonizing pain, both physically, and emotional. The feel of rejection that we entertain can never be justified by any excuse that is given for why aborting us was the best decision at the moment. Abortion is never the best decision. Abortion is never the only way out, and abortion is not a corrective remedy to an already made mistake.
One moment I was swimming in expectation as what the world held for me, I was enjoying just fantasizing about the beauty and the chance to live outside the walls of the womb, not for any particular reason, but because I realized that life on its own is a gift. I never got that chance to enjoy this gift because the next thing my course was forcefully turned, and out of nowhere I was headed to a place where there was no purpose to achieve, where my vast potentials and abilities would never be harnessed, and where for the rest of my infinite existence, I would only be called the aborted baby, living only with the terrible memories of the decision of other people, and the thoughts of what I would have become.
Truth Zombie: (after a brief period of trying to recompose myself) wow… I sincerely don’t know what I feel at the moment…I don’t just know how to categorize this…okay…what do you think about the current abortion debate going on in the society. There are the people campaigning for pro-choice, that is the choice of the woman to choose whatever happens to her body, and whether she wants to keep the baby or not, and there is pro-life, those who battle that the baby should be entitled to life, and the life of the baby should not be dependent on the choice of the mother.
Aborted baby: for the mere fact that our country and the world seems to be growingly paying much attention to this debate is a terrible sign that our society is becoming more and more deranged. This debate shouldn’t even exist if everybody was still in touch with their humanistic side, and not allowing deranged philosophy, arguments and disillusioned logic to overly ride their sense of reasoning, and becloud their ability to make good and righteous judgment. If a woman should have the right to kill her baby because it’s her body and so her choice, then a parent should have the choice to kill their child because the child lives in their house and so it should be their choice, and a landlord should have the right to kill his tenant because the tenant lives in his house, and the owner of a car can kill all his passengers because they are in his car, and so it goes on and on. How do you justify murder using the same logic that you use to condemn it in another situation? Isn’t that just absurd? Then I feel sadly bemused when this debate gets personal and heated, and someone pro-life challenges a pro-choice individual and the individual defends, arguing that nobody should question or attack his or her personality, but rather should only scrutinize her view and not her as a person.
(The baby seems to get angry)
What?! Do you all ever stop to see how stupid that sounds? Oh! I would question your personality to the core! I would question how ridiculously out of touch with your morals and righteousness that you could have become, for you to campaign that a defenseless being can be murdered! I would question your very soul! I would ask you to tell me how black it is, that you entertain the thought of such activity. I would question your conscience! how badly you deadened and deactivated it that you don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse, knowing that because of your agitations, thousands and millions of babies are killed, and the statistics constantly grows! If I had my way I would go to my mother in the night just when she is asleep and I can access her through her dreams, and I would ask the simple question I desperately need an answer to; why did you abort me?!
Truth Zombie: thanks for that one. Let me quickly ask, though you have rubbed across this question from time to time since we began this interview. How do you feel knowing you were deprived a chance to live?
Aborted baby: sad, disappointed, and pained to the core. I am baffled by human’s logic that justifies them disposing of something so priceless. I fantasize about what beautiful life had awaited me if only I had been born.
I miss my mother too.
We might have shared an intimate level of affectionate love if only she was not so short sighted to see this.
Truth Zombie: thank you. We are slowly getting to the end of this interview, and it has been one quite short but insightful one. So allow me to ask, in your opinion, what do you think is the cause of the high rate of abortion in the society?
Aborted baby: (silent for a while, then speaks) callousness, the inability of human beings to put things in the right perspective and prioritize their life properly. Human beings want to have all pleasure without consequences. They are trying to look for the way to break the principle of life that states that you face the consequences of their actions and deal with it too. The good and sad news, depending on who is receiving it is this; just the way that the law of gravity is inevitable as long as you live on planet earth, the law of dealing with the consequences of your actions is inevitable too. Human beings have gotten so short sighted and have corrupted their ways so much that they begin to lose grasp of what is right and wrong. Some others are so selfish that they want to privatize the moral compass, and make it theirs to decide what wrong and right is, talking about right and wrong exists only in the mind of an individual, and should be subject to an individual’s decision only. Such arrant nonsense! Humans want to break down things that were supposed to be a group package, and pick the one that they want out of the basket, and drop the ones they do not want at the moment with ease. Then who suffers this? Us
Truth Zombie: thank you so much, for your time. Before we conclude, since you obviously oppose the idea of abortion, what do you have to say to those practicing, supporting and campaigning for the advancement of this practice?
Aborted baby: let’s stop confusing issues; pro-choice should be a person being able to deal with his earlier inappropriate choices by now making right choices. If you want to campaign for people’s ability to make choices, you should campaign for their ability to make right choices. Saying anybody has a right to choice, no matter how the choice affects the people around them, and inside them negatively, is just the height of insensitivity. You’re not making the world a better place by promoting abortion. You’re only promoting mass murder, degenerating our species to the point of complete inhumanity…and blood is the most sacred and priceless symbol of life, and just so you know, every spilled blood would be ultimately accounted for, including mine. I hope you have your defense ready as to why your abortion was necessary, because just so you know, when the real time to prove your point comes, you would lose the debate. If you want to make a choice about raising a baby or not at any time, then make the choice to not get pregnant. And to any lady out there who has gotten pregnant, and for whatever reason, doesn’t want to keep the baby…(the baby begins to sob almost silently) please, I beg of you…keep.that.child.
Spare your unborn baby the agony of going through that horrible process of abortion. Please, I beg of you. (Sobs some more) don’t cut the life of that child before he or she begins to live. Don’t just dispose of such vast pool of potential and blessings because of how inconveniencing it is for you at the moment to raise a child. Look at that child for what he is; a blessing in disguise, a child to love and to care for. I don’t want to see another child join us here. You are alive because you weren’t aborted, so give another person a shot at life. Don’t justify the wrong you are about to do on any terms, and don’t look at abortion as an option. Shut your ears to the voices finding reason in something as wrong as abortion, and simply put, just choose to do the right thing. I beg you.
END OF INTERVIEW
Still trying to sound professional despite the burden that I feel within me, I thank the aborted baby, feigning a smile that would barely pass as convincing, and is about to leave when the baby calls me back.
“I know this is probably breaking a lot of rules, but I need you to do something for me. please.” the baby desperately pleads.
When I transcend back into planet earth, feeling terribly numb and partially hypnotized, I take a flight to Lagos, and then a cab to somewhere at Victoria Island. It’s not hard to spot the house, and so I knock. After a while a gateman opens the gate and I am led to the sitting room where a girl looking to be in her twenties shortly joins me.
“I have a message for you ma” I struggle to say, feeling the weight of my message weigh down on my soul
“Yes? From whom?” she asks nonchalantly
“From your aborted baby. the one you aborted in 2012, at … hospital, done by doctor …” I don’t look up to see the reaction on her face, but picking the sound of labored breathing and the prolonged silence after my statement, it is safe that she is not taking it well.
“She says to tell you that she would have been a girl and that in two months’ time you should remember that she would have been five years old. She wanted me to tell you that she still doesn’t understand why you aborted her, and would never do, but that she loves you, and misses you. She said you should say hi to her younger brother whom you just delivered. She wishes that she had the chance to be a senior sister, even if it was a half-sister to her brother, and that she has this feeling she would have looked much like you. She says that you should tell her father also, that he hurt her, by supporting the abortion, even if the two of you were only university students who made a foolish mistake”
I stand and begin to head to the door even when I hear the woman amiss sobs trying to call me back. I don’t answer because I don’t know what I would tell her, or how I can explain how I know all this, and as I step out of the gate and hear her screams, I feel a part of the sane me sink deep into the rivers of my insanity.