Na Me Mess Up? I Said No When My Friend Asked for Money for an Abortion

[Shekinah Brama]

I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Life has a way of throwing you into situations where right and wrong aren’t so clear-cut. That’s the whole point of Na Me Mess Up? — real Nigerians opening up about the decisions that haunt them, while you get to decide whether they truly messed up or not.

Ibrahim* (28) and Tunde* (28) started out as those familiar faces you greet in class but never really hang with. Over time, that casual relationship transformed into a post-uni brotherhood. But when Tunde got laid off and later asked Ibrahim for ₦100k to pay for an abortion, Ibrahim found himself torn between his convictions and his loyalty. Now, he’s questioning whether he stood firm… or failed a friend.

Here’s Ibrahim’s story, as told to Adeyinka.

I first got to know Tunde in our second year. Same faculty, same lecture halls — nothing deep. It was just the occasional “How far?” and maybe hanging out when a group outing happened. After graduation, like many people do, we drifted apart. I assumed that was the end.

But social media had other plans. We followed each other, started replying to random posts, slid into each other’s DMs, traded jokes, and eventually exchanged numbers. Before long, we moved from “former classmates” to actual friends.

Early this year, Tunde lost his job. When he told me, I felt the frustration in his voice. I tried to keep him encouraged, but it was clear he was struggling emotionally. After that, I checked on him more often, called in the evenings, invited him over so he wouldn’t sit home brooding. He kept applying everywhere but nothing worked out. That was the situation when, one afternoon in August, he texted asking for ₦100k urgently.

I was at work when I saw the message. My first reaction was to mentally open my banking app — because I definitely didn’t have that kind of money lying around. Things were tight for me too. But it was Tunde, so I told him that if he could wait till month-end, I’d try to put something together or at least send a sizable portion.

He told me it couldn’t wait.

He kept stressing how desperate and time-sensitive the situation was. At that point, I asked what exactly was going on. He hesitated, said it was personal, said he felt weird sharing it. But after some back-and-forth, he finally said it: a girl was pregnant, they wanted to terminate it, and the ₦100k was for the abortion.

My heart dropped. Hearing that made everything complicated.

I tried to dance around it at first. I told him I could only raise a very small amount, hoping he’d say, “Never mind.” But he pressed on. He said I should send whatever I had, that it would help.

Part of me wanted to just give him the money and avoid drama. But another part of me knew I would never forgive myself if I supported something I didn’t believe in. I could already imagine the guilt — knowing I funded a decision that conflicted with my values.

Eventually, I knew I had to be honest. I told him plainly that I wasn’t comfortable providing money for an abortion. I explained it wasn’t about judging him — it was about my conscience and what I could live with.

He replied, “okay.”

That was it. Nothing more. The message seemed harmless, so I assumed he understood, even if he didn’t like my stance. I felt relieved that I had remained respectful while staying true to my beliefs.

I didn’t realise that “okay” was the beginning of the end.

The silence started immediately. Normally, we’d talk several times a week, react to each other’s statuses, send memes. Suddenly… nothing. A full week passed without a single message.

I reached out first. I called — no answer. Sent a voice note — he listened, didn’t reply. Another week passed. By the third week, I sent a long message asking if we were good because the distance felt strange.

That’s when he finally responded.

He told me outright that I wasn’t a real friend. He said he had come to me at one of the lowest moments of his life, and instead of helping, I hid behind my “values.” He insisted that if roles were reversed, he would have helped me without hesitation. In his words: “If na me, I no go even think am twice.”

It hurt. I tried explaining again — that I wasn’t abandoning him, I just couldn’t fund that specific thing. I even offered to support him in other ways: food, transport, whatever. But he didn’t want to hear it.

He said real friendship requires doing difficult things sometimes. We went back and forth until the conversation just fizzled. And that was it. Since then, we’ve barely spoken. It’s like the entire friendship collapsed over that one moment.

I think about it often.

Some days, I feel I did the right thing. Boundaries matter. Being someone’s friend shouldn’t mean compromising your deepest convictions.

Other days, I wonder if I should have looked at it differently. Maybe my job wasn’t to approve or disapprove — just to help. Maybe he wasn’t looking for moral commentary, just support.

I also don’t know what happened afterward. He never told me what they ended up doing. I miss him. But I also know I didn’t say no out of wickedness. I said no because I couldn’t reconcile the request with my beliefs.

Now I’m stuck between two truths: loyalty to someone I care about, and loyalty to my own conscience.

Did I protect myself… or did I fail a friend?

Names have been changed to protect identity.

[Author]

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