Teenage pregnancy has become increasingly common in some communities in Plateau State, raising difficult questions for families, communities and policymakers. The teenage years are often marked by identity struggles, curiosity and intense peer pressure, making adolescents particularly vulnerable to risky decisions.
While parents are often overwhelmed by the shame associated with out-of-wedlock pregnancies, should pregnancy automatically condemn a teenage girl to a forced marriage or cohabitation?
Teenagers are in a transitional stage between childhood and adulthood. They are easily influenced, with peer pressure ranking among their greatest vulnerabilities. Their curiosity and spontaneity often drive them to explore new experiences, but in the process, many make decisions that alter the course of their lives.
When shame dictates family decisions
Over the years, it has become common for teenage girls who become pregnant out of wedlock to be hurriedly sent to the home of the boy responsible for the pregnancy. At that point, many parents view their daughters as having brought disgrace upon the family. To them, removing the girl from the family home before the pregnancy becomes visible appears to be the quickest solution.
A mother whose daughter became pregnant while in JSS 3 by a schoolmate in his final year recalled the painful experience.
“I was taken unawares by my daughter, who used to be a saint,” she said.
She described the day her daughter’s school principal informed her of the pregnancy as “the worst day of my life. I felt as if the floor should open and swallow me up. All I could think of was how I would face my prayer group and explain my 13-year-old daughter’s situation.”
Following a heated argument with her husband, who began referring to the girl as “your daughter,” she decided to send the teenager to the boy’s family home.
According to her, while the boy would remain in school and her daughter would be expelled, the least his family could do was assume responsibility by accommodating the pregnant teenager until she gave birth.
Looking back, she admitted it was the worst decision they ever made.
Instead of finding support, the young girl encountered rejection. The boy gradually developed resentment towards her, as her presence reminded him daily of responsibilities he was too immature to shoulder.
His parents, subsistence farmers already struggling to provide for their own family, regarded her as an extra burden. She was made to feel unwanted and unwelcome.
Reflecting on that painful period, the young mother, who has since returned to school after giving birth, said: “I was only 13, but I allowed myself to fall into temptation that tore my family apart. I was treated like a househelp at my son’s father’s house because they knew I had nowhere to go. It was as if I was serving a prison sentence. Many days, I cried myself to sleep because I missed my mother and my siblings. I missed my home, even my strict father, but there was nothing I could do.”
She said there eventually came a point when the tears stopped. Rather than dwell on her misery, she began setting short-term and long-term goals for herself, determined to rebuild her future regardless of whether her parents supported her.
Her breakthrough came when her maternal aunt visited alongside her mother. It was the first time her mother had seen her since sending her away. Although both women wept, the teenager did not.
Her mother repeatedly apologised, while her aunt openly condemned the decision to abandon the girl. Seeing her heavily pregnant and still expected to perform all the household chores, the aunt immediately took her home, where she has remained ever since.
Different stories, similar painful outcomes
A similar experience befell Lady Zee, not her real name.
She became pregnant shortly after graduation by her boyfriend, who was two years older and lived with his sister in Jos. Having lost her mother years earlier and with her retired father living in the village, the pregnancy left her feeling she had nowhere else to turn.
By her sixth month of pregnancy, she relocated to Jos. Together with her boyfriend, they informed his sister and her husband, who agreed she would move in after the traditional marriage rites and payment of dowry.
However, what started as a loving relationship soon deteriorated.
“My boyfriend just developed a dislike for me. It was as if he felt I had robbed him of something or that I was tying him down. Everything I did was wrong. It was only his sister and her husband who made things easy for me. My boyfriend was not sympathetic at all. In fact, he blamed me for everything,” she recalled, painfully.
Although she delivered safely, the birth of their child failed to mend the fractured relationship. Once she was strong enough to travel, she returned to her father’s home, reconciled with him and eventually separated from the child’s father. Today, her son has become the apple of his grandfather’s eye.
Similar experiences abound.
Sissy Dee, also a fictitious name, endured numerous sacrifices after moving into her boyfriend’s parents’ home following childbirth. A Yoruba woman whose boyfriend is Gamai, she struggled with cultural differences that extended beyond language barriers with his illiterate mother.
“There were many dishes I was not familiar with. For example, amora, corn flour swallow with dry okra. But for the sake of my daughter, I learned to eat them,” she said.
Like Lady Zee, she found herself isolated and unsupported, while her boyfriend failed to defend her. Once she regained her strength, she packed her belongings, left the house and resolved never to return to the relationship.
The experiences of these young women illustrate that forcing pregnant teenagers into the homes of the fathers of their unborn children rarely solves the problem. Instead, it often compounds an already traumatic situation with emotional neglect, abuse, rejection and long-lasting psychological scars.
While parents may fear public ridicule and seek to distance themselves from what they perceive as family shame, such actions can leave lasting wounds on vulnerable teenagers who need guidance, counselling and support rather than punishment.
Perhaps the question families should ask is not, “What will people say?” but rather, “What, in God’s eyes, is the best thing to do in this situation?”