Forced sterilisation, sexual assault: Stories of abuse faced by women with disabilities in Nigeria

Women with disabilities face a 'double jeopardy' of discrimination, one expert said. Alamy Stock Photo

Women's Rights

Freelance journalist Niamh Ní Hoireabhaird shines a light on how advocates in Nigeria are fighting to empower women with disabilities.

Niamh Ní Hoireabhaird

WHEN PATIENCE OGOLO Dickson started working with disabled women and girls over a decade ago, it came as news to her that some disabled women and girls were forced by their families to have abortions or be sterilised, but now, hearing stories about this are standard for her.

Fuelled by her own experience as a disabled woman, Dickson founded Advocacy for Women with Disabilities Initiative, an organisation championing inclusion for women and girls with disabilities across Nigeria.

"There's a gross abuse of the sexual and reproductive rights of women and girls with disabilities," says Dickson, reflecting on the stories she has heard throughout her career.

The case of a woman called Beatrice* has endured in her mind.

After years of trying for a baby with her husband with no result, Beatrice went to see a gynaecologist. The doctor performed a brief examination before telling her there was nothing they could do to help; she had been sterilised.

Beatrice had no idea.

This had been done to her when she was much younger, without her knowledge, without her consent.

Forced sterilisation is the involuntary or coerced removal of a person's ability to reproduce. For women and girls, this is commonly done through tubal ligation, a procedure in which the fallopian tubes are cut or removed. The process is more commonly referred to as 'having your tubes tied'.

A story like this is, unfortunately, not an unusual occurrence.

The perpetrators of violence against women and girls with disabilities, says Dickson, are almost always caregivers - family members and intimate partners.

Parents who choose to sterilise their children often believe they are doing the right thing, says Dickson. They may, for example, be concerned with sparing their daughters pregnancies that may result from future sexual abuse.

Ekaete Judith Umoh, a prominent social justice advocate, has been working in this area for over 25 years. "In Nigeria, family planning is welcome. So they may go under the cover of family planning to commit this kind of crime."

In the years she has spent collecting research on this topic, Umoh has interacted with a number of disabled women who have been victims of forced sterilisation. "I've come to observe that those who are most hit are women who may have intellectual disabilities, psychosocial disabilities" she explains - autistic women and women with Down Syndrome, for example.

Done in secret

Forced sterilisation is illegal under Nigerian law, but it not being a government sanctioned practice does not stop it from happening.

"It is highly, highly privately arranged," says Umoh, explaining how the discretion and secrecy that surrounds the issue makes it so difficult to prevent entirely.

And of course, the disabled woman girl would not know what the family is planning, says Umoh: "They are not discussing that with her."

The secrecy surrounding this issue means data impossible to find.

"There are already gender biases that exist, not just for women with disabilities, but for women generally… Disability is another component that will add to the vulnerability of a woman," says Mercy Ngunan, program and advocacy officer at Hope Alive for Possibilities Initiative, an organisation that works to promote the rights and inclusion of women with disabilities.

Mercy Ngunan Afolabi Solatunde Afolabi Solatunde

Ngunan is currently working with disabled women in a number of Nigeria's Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps.

These camps shelter people who were forced to flee their homes elsewhere in Nigeria. At one of these camps, she met Adeola*, a blind woman who lives in the camp with her partner.

During their time together, Adeola has fallen pregnant three times. Adeola wanted to keep all three of her pregnancies, but her partner insisted on termination.

Abortion in Nigeria is strictly illegal under federal law, except for cases in which the mother's life is at risk. Because of this, abortions are unregulated and highly dangerous.

Adeola's partner sourced herbal remedies to terminate the pregnancies. The first two abortions were completed without complications.

The third pregnancy was discovered much later into the gestational process, and when she was given the same herbal remedy, it did not work properly. She experienced very heavy bleeding and unbearable abdominal pain.

Adeola wished her first child, who would be eight by now, would have been able to guide or assist her around the camp. Instead, she remains dependent on her partner for support and care.

Forced pregnancies

While forced sterilisation usually happens to disabled women and girls from upper class families, Umoh says it is more common for disabled women and girls from lower class families in rural areas to be forcibly impregnated, with the intention of their child growing up and becoming their carer - like in Adeola's case.

This is not viewed as a bad thing by the families. As is often the case with forced abortions and sterilisations, families think they are doing what is best for the disabled woman.

Some disabled women and girls are forcibly impregnated as part of Nigeria's 'baby factories'. These are facilities where young women and girls are held, impregnated and forced to give birth to children who are then placed for sale on the illegal adoption market.

Afterwards, the women are given just a small amount of money before being sent on their way. Many women with disabilities who have no other form of income are reliant on this financial incentive.

"Persons with disabilities are fantastic material for a baby factory," says Dorothy Njemenze, executive director and founder of the Dorothy Njamene Foundation, an organisation working to end sexual and gender-based violence.

Dorothy Njemenze Afolabi Solatunde Afolabi Solatunde

"Because when it's time to run, many persons, women with disabilities cannot run. You know, cannot think about creative ways to escape the way other persons without disability may be able to think. They may not have as many options."

Exposure to such trauma and violence, she points out, can also be disabling. Njemenze, who is a survivor of sexual violence and intimate partner abuse, is open about her mental health struggles.

Njemenze describes having encountered many cases of women with disabilities whose husbands rape their young children, and the women have little power to intervene in fear of the consequences that could arise.

Women with disabilities are expected by society to be thankful for whatever attention they get, notes Njemenze. She added:

Vulnerability is very attractive to predators.

Violence against women, with UNICEF reporting that one in three women experience physical, sexual, intimate-partner violence, trafficking, or are subject to violent social norms.

"We are in a society where patriarchy plays a very big role."

Gender-based violence is a problem for both disabled and non-disabled women in Nigeria, acknowledges Dickson, "but for women with disabilities, it's a double jeopardy".

"This is a community facing discrimination, facing stigma, facing isolation, and all of the challenges that is going on around their lives, coupled with gender-based violence that they just had to also experience."

Despite this, Dickson thinks things are changing: "We are talking about it. We are engaging. We are advocating," she says, "and people are beginning to understand and to know that, yes, these are human beings. They also have rights."

The collective efforts of women like Dickson, Umoh, Mgunan and Njemenze hope to educate women and girls with disabilities about their rights but also to educate Nigerian society about disability.

Starting this conversation is the first step.

"I know that within Nigeria as a country, Africa as a continent, and the global space, there's a lot of hope," concludes Dickson, "and I believe that the hope actually translates into a better future for each and every one of us, including women and girls with disabilities."

At their request, the real names of Beatrice and Adeola were not used here.

This reporting was supported by the Simon Cumbers Media Fund.