When Elizabeth Iyabo Moromoke was growing up as a young girl at No. 3 Jinadu Street, Mushin, Lagos in the early 1970s, she had the ambition of becoming a medical doctor someday. Like toddlers of her age, she also dreamt of enjoying marital bliss with numerous children surrounding her.Suddenly, the dreams evaporated and the road to accomplishing such lifetime goals became herculean and tortuous. Elizabeth, now 32, laboured effortlessly for 15 tearful years before she could cuddle a baby of her own.
She narrates her ordeals to a source..
“My name is Elizabeth Moromoke. I am 32 years old. I was born at Mushin, Lagos. My parents were originally from Mokoloke, Abeokuta, Ogun State before settling in Lagos where I was born. Life is simple; if you have patience you can get whatever you want. Trust in God that you are worshipping,” she counselled. “While growing up as a young girl, I aspired to be a medical doctor but today I ended up as a businesswoman. It was my grandma that brought me up and I still give God the glory for what He is doing in my life generally. Little did I know that the harsh realities of life would dawn on me so soon when I got married to my late husband, Barrister Omotoso, in 1996. Until his death in the early 2000s, I had no single child for him despite all the efforts we put into it so as to remove the ignominy hovering over us.
“Everything went on perfectly in my relationship with him. He took proper care of me till death separated us. I encountered a lot of difficulties and humiliation in the process.
“The situation became so unbearable to the extent that I was deserted by friends who thought the end had come for me. Though my family supported me wholeheartedly as a result of my childlessness at that time, they were sympathetic to my cause. But my friends, neighbours and even church members did not help matters. They made life miserable for me during my effortless search for the fruits of the womb. One day a neighbour told me, ‘So you want to kill my own child and have yours’. That day it was as if the ground should open and swallow me but I summoned enough courage to absorb the shock. While hoping against hope, one day I made up my mind to go and see a herbalist (Babalawo) at Ajah Lagos, thinking that he could provide solution to my problem. On getting there, the Babalawo told me that I should go back home and have intercourse with my husband. He said after having carnal knowledge of ourselves, I should clean my vagina with handkerchief and bring everything in my body to him. The herbalist told me he would “do that thing for me”. She asked him, Baba, ‘what is that thing you want to do for me?’
“He said just do as I said. In desperation I ran home filled with delight and excitement because the Baba wanted to do ‘that thing for me’. You know when someone is badly in need of something, especially a child, and there is a ray of hope, every available option is acceptable. When I got home I explained my encounter with the miracle worker to my husband. Instantly as if my husband had anticipated such, shouted that the man was planning to use me for money ritual. He was able to know the Baba’s clandestine motive because of his experience in a situation like that and being a professional lawyer, he was more advanced in age than me. With the pronouncement from my husband, I became jittery and dejected at the same time excited for escaping a sudden death in my search for a child.”
After that Moromoke went to Agbowa at Ikorodu, Lagos to expand the frontiers of her search for pregnancy. She still thought she could easily pick up and deposit it into her belly without hindrance.
She recalled: “I met a woman whom I do not want to mention her name because she is well known over there. She collected so much money from me with deception. Nothing came out of it. I intensified my search in several churches both in Lagos and outside it. I ate several concoctions (Aseje) in the process, all to no avail. I did not lose hope, there was money to spend. They collected a lot of money from me. I was hoping for a miracle baby that refused to come. When it dawned on me that Lagos was not submitting and delivering with the experimentation, I decided to try Ondo State and Ilesha in Osun State, just to have my own child. Every attempt hit a brickwall.
“It amazes me each time I hear news of abandoned children or child factories where teenagers are delivered of babies and sold them off without stress. Am always moved with pity that what some people with enormous wealth, resources and tears in their eyes are looking for, others are misusing the opportunity by dumping them wherever they chose only for government to carry them as orphans or worse still, end up inside ritualists’ homes.
“During those period of agony, my husband did not lose hope of my having children before he died; he kept assuring me to wait for my time,” Moromoke added.
Having considered all options, she joined a spiritual church where it was prophesied that she would have a child but that she should look on to God for succour.
“The death of my husband shocked me to my bone marrow, I became despondent. In 2007, I met my present husband by name Aderemi who God used to open my womb and to shame my detractors. I am grateful to God for sending him to me. Some months into our relationship, the long-awaited pregnancy came when least expected. When I became pregnant I did not know because I was still menstruating. It was my new husband that told me I was pregnant, but I told him it was a lie. I disbelieved him because as a woman who never got pregnant before I did not know the processes of detecting it unless the stomach became enlarged or one missed her period. For me, I was seeing my menses; that further heightened my earlier stand and worries.”
She conducted pregnancy and blood tests to ascertain it. It was negative. Afterwards, her doctor advised that she do a scan test.
“When I did it, it was positive to prove my husband right. My doctor told me I was four months pregnant. I was exceedingly happy,” she said.
Even at that, many people did not believe the good news. They said she was not pregnant, that she was always pretending.
“I even told one of my friends that I would have gone to deliver the baby in United States of America. She countered saying, thank God that you delivered here in Nigeria because if it were to be in the US, people would say you have gone to adopt a baby from there. You can see how difficult and wicked human beings are. They will say it was calabash I wrapped round my stomach for that period of conception,” she retorted.
Her critics did not stop at that. It got to a point that doubting Thomases hatched another plot to validate the authenticity of her claim of a new baby. “When the naming ceremony was on, you know I cannot enter the church as it is forbidden in the white garment church until 41 days after delivery. I sat outside the church auditorium. They brought the seven-day-old baby to me where I was, saying that he was crying and wanted to eat. They said I should breastfeed him in their presence. In the process, I sensed that they truly wanted to know whether my breast was succulent and big enough to produce milk or not, which was a sign of knowing a nursing mother. In the presence of everyone looking, both men and women, young and old, I happily and gladly brought out my succulent breast, flaunted it happily and dipped it into my baby’s mouth. He sucked the flowing milk to my delight and admiration of others.
“I also saw some people at the ceremony that called me and said ‘it was because we heard about your delivery that we came’. You could see the extent of ridicule that I suffered,” Moromoke told Sunday Mirror.
“That was why I called my son Oluwajowonloju (God proved a point to them); Ayokunumi because they said this one cannot have a child in her life. Before the baby came, I was running from pillar to post but today I am happier for it. God has done it for me. My advice to those looking up to God for the fruit of the womb or passing through difficulties, is never to lose hope; be steadfast, have faith in God.
