• I am not a writer but I have something important I would like to share.
  
  I’ll start by telling you about my Grandfather. Orphaned at a very young age, my grandfather, who we called Babu, converted to Catholicism after he was taken in by the Seminary. Although he had initially hoped to join the Priesthood, God had other plans and after leaving the seminary, he prayed for his bride. Overcoming numerous obstacles, and after much prayer, Babu met and married my grandmother. God blessed them with a loving marriage and 14 children, one of whom they adopted.
  
  A teacher by profession, Babu played an important role in his community. Respected by his peers, village elders and religious leaders, Christian and Muslim alike, it was clear to everyone that his priorities were his faith and his family. Babu started each day with Mass and ended it with a family Rosary. It is difficult to cram his life’s achievements in less than one million words so I will focus on that which I feel relevant for the point I am hoping to make.
  
  Guided by his faith in all that he did, and never one to compromise on his principles, I know what he would do if he were alive to read about the push by foreign organisations to legalise abortion throughout Africa. My grandfather would be shocked, outraged, appalled, saddened, and then I believe he would do something. Just like he did when he faced the social issues of his time, with courage and faith, he would speak out against the intrinsic evil of abortion. He would remind us that Africans love their children and cherish their families, and he would speak loudly and clearly against an ideology that suggests that in order to break the cycle of poverty one has to sacrifice the vulnerable life in the womb.
  
  There is much irony in this suggestion, for I am yet to meet a single person whose decision to have an abortion set them towards the path of material prosperity. On the contrary, in more ways than one, a family is often richer for their decision to be open to life and God’s will. As anyone would expect, my grandparents did make sacrifices for their children, but none that they wouldn’t make again, and again, and again. When Babu died in 2004, our family changed completely, we lost our patriarch, the one who for decades had been the spiritual head of the family and I personally lost the only man who had never given me a reason to cry.
  
  It is undeniable that my grandfather left behind a different world from the one in which he was born, and there are certainly more challenges and obstacles on our individual paths to sanctity. However, what remains unchanged is that we still have free will and even when, maybe especially when we are faced with difficult decisions, we must endeavour to make the right one. My grandfather could have made different decisions, there were those around him who were not faithful to their wives, who chose to spend their time and money outside their household and who selfishly fathered children whom they did not intend to care for. However, we must not believe the lie that we now live in such a different time where faith, marriage, and children, are no longer relevant.
  
  In the years since my grandfather passed away, my grandmother has not spent a single day or night without one of her children by her side. We know that this brings her much comfort and we are aware that this would have been impossible if my grandparents had given in to the pressure facing many African families today; to use artificial contraceptives to minimise their family size. There are many problems and challenges that Africa faces, but abortion, sterilization programs and a massive push for artificial contraception will not fix our problems. Our children are our wealth, we celebrate marriage and we value our families.
  
  Economists will agree that today, one of the biggest problems facing many Western countries is their low birth rate. Most of these countries have legalised abortion and free and easy access to artificial contraceptives. If it is not working for them, why are we being led to believe that it would work for us? I am not an economist, and I am not a writer. I am a Catholic, I am an African, and I am the granddaughter of a man who would expect me, us, to be outraged at the idea that the killing of the child in the womb is now a ‘right’ to which African women are entitled.