‘Baby factories’ versus the objectification of surrogacy cum child adoption in Nigeria

Introduction

Nigeria is a pro-natalist society. It lays much emphasis on child-bearing and child-rearing. In this context, bearing a child is seen as a definition of womanhood and a confirmation of manhood. In effect, having a child is not merely one of the ends of marriage; it is, in fact, the very essence of it (Nwaka & Odoemene, 2019). In addition to marking the basis, and of course the purpose, of marriage, child-bearing is also seen as a prerequisite for the fulfilment of certain cultural needs: it is seen as a means of preserving a family or lineage name, but also as a criterion for the assumption of some communal roles. Consequently, childless couples or adults are not only stigmatized; they are often marginalized in a manner that makes them feel incomplete and estranged in their local cultures. In a bid to overcome this existential situation, some of these couples and individuals have resorted to various patterns of surrogacy-enabled child-bearing practices, be they acceptable or not.

This paper examines the phenomenon of ‘baby factories’ as a pattern of objectification of surrogacy and child adoption practices in Nigeria. This is against the backdrop of the prevalence and proliferation of the ‘baby factories’ business in the country over the years. The paper builds upon the extant studies which have focused on the various aspects of the phenomenon (Ojedokun & Atoi, 2016; Makinde, Makinde, Olaleye, Brown, & Odimegwu, 2016; Mustapha, 2018; Sanni, 2018; Nwaka & Odoemene, 2019). Although these studies have competently addressed the salient socio-cultural, socio-economic and legal dimensions of the ‘baby factories’ phenomenon, none of the extant works has approached the phenomenon from the analytical lens of objectification. In addition, existing studies in that regard tend to have been generally inadequate in terms of engaging the contemporary patterns and trajectories of the phenomenon, which is fast gravitating towards a bourgeoning organized reproductive criminality.

The paper posits that the economic, socio-cultural and psycho-emotional value of bearing and having a child, as well as the tacit disapproval of adoptive parenting by some cultures in Nigeria, have driven childless couples and adults into seeking child adoption through illicit and unconventional paths such as ‘baby factories’. The paper adds that the commercialization and non-regulation of surrogacy in Nigeria have created pretexts for the proliferation of ‘baby factories’ where babies are bought and sold, with pregnant girls and infants objectified as ‘stocks-in-trade’. The remainder of the paper is broadly structured around three thematic sections. Coming next is the epistemological background that considers the frame of reference, theoretical framework and literature review. This is followed by a section that interrogates the nexus between commercial surrogacy, illicit adoption and ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria. The last section dwells essentially on remedial reflections, recommendations and the conclusion.

Situating the key concepts

Three key terms constitute the conceptual frame of reference of this paper, namely child adoption, surrogacy, ‘baby factories’. Table 1 highlights the contextual meanings of these concepts in relation to their operational usage in the present discourse. It suffices to note that what is rendered here is merely denotative and operational. Elaborated and more nuanced explorations of these concepts are subsumed under subsequent sub-themes.

Theoretical framework: Objectification theory

This paper adopts objectification theory as the framework for its analysis. The theory was originated by Fredrickson and Roberts (1970) in an effort to “to understand and explain the experiences of girls and women” in situations where their autonomy and humanity are negated through objectification (Calogero, 2012, p. 579). The epistemological foundation of the theory is traceable to modern studies in social psychology and feminism, with themes on self-objectification, gender violence and victimization as well as sexual objectification as cardinal influences (Balraj, 2015).

In order to meaningfully situate its theoretical application, the concept of objectification requires a proper contextual clarification. For Calogero (2012, p. 574), to objectify simply means “to make as an object, which can be used, manipulated, controlled, and known through its physical properties”. With reference to human beings, the essence of objectification is to deny a person his/her autonomy, agency and subjectivity (Nussbaum, 1995). Based on Nussbam’s (1995) conceptual frame, seven dimensions of objectification are possible: instrumentality, denial of autonomy, inertness, fungibility, violability, ownership, and denial of subjectivity (see Table 2 for their contextual applications).

Objectification theory offers interesting insights into the extent of victimization associated with ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria. This includes the (mis)treatment of the surrogate’s womb and the child as commodities; the enslavement and exploitation of the surrogate mother; and the instrumentalization of young girls/women as reproductive machines as well as objects of trafficking (Onuoha, 2014b; Guevara & Albaran, 2017). Under these circumstances, the victims are not only commoditized; they are also dehumanized and victimized (Okoli & Azom, 2019). As expendable objects, women in this context are stripped of their humanity: their autonomy, agency, and subjectivity (Calogero, 2012; Gervais et al., 2015). Even where their participation in the process is voluntary, they are ultimately cheated or exploited. In most instances, the baby bearer gets a reward of twenty thousand naira (equivalent to about USD 50) for giving away her child (Street Journal, 2012; see also Obaji, 2020^[1]). This amount translates roughly to the monthly gross earnings of an average Nigerian under-class artisan. So, even where they are being compensated for their role, what they actually get is usually not a fair and dignifying reward for the double labour: the dual reproductive and productive burden of commercial child-bearing.

Perspectives on surrogacy and child adoption: A literature review

The foremost pattern of surrogacy in the world entails the husband donating his sperm through organic insemination (direct sexual intercourse) to a surrogate who will bear him the child instead of his infertile wife (Omeire, 2015; Nwaka & Odoemene, 2019). This is referred to as traditional surrogacy, in which the resulting child has some genetic ties with the surrogate mother (WHO, 2003; Oyekan & Ani, 2017; Sanni, 2018; Mustapha, 2018). Advances in modern reproductive medicine and technology have brought about radical transformations in the practice of surrogacy. According to Choudhury (2015, p. 4):

With innovations in reproductive medicine, traditional surrogacy involving the donation of eggs from the gestational mother (making her both the genetic and gestational mother) is no longer necessary. Due to advances in vitro fertilization (IVF), the production of genetic children has been decoupled from gestation and can now occur outside the marital family.

Different surrogacy regimes exist in various jurisdictions of the contemporary world. While countries like Cyprus, India, South Africa, Ukraine, Belarus, Georgia, Armenia, and the United States of America (in the States of Arkansas, California, Florida, Illinois, Texas, Massachusetts and Vermont) allow both commercial and altruistic surrogacy, others such as Australia, Canada (except Quebec), the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, Denmark, Hungary, Israel and some States of the United States (New York, New Jersey, New Mexico, Nebaska, Virginia, Oregon and Washington) allow altruistic surrogacy only (Aderibigbe, n.d, p. 7). In some other jurisdictions, however, all forms of surrogacy are proscribed. Cases in point include Germany, France, Belgium, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, Australia, Norway, Sweden, Iceland, Estonia, Moldova, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, China, Japan, Canada (Quebec Province only) and the United States’ provinces of Arizona, Michigan, Indiana and North Dakota (Aderibugbe, n.d, p. 8).

In spite of the apparent controversy surrounding the practice, surrogacy has become a thriving international business (Schurr, 2018). The international enterprise of surrogacy constitutes a significant aspect of the rising global reproductive tourism sector, with countries like India and Ukraine as veritable destinations (Dowedoff, 2018). This sector is an integral part of the booming international baby production industry and market that provide legal and illicit surrogacy services. On this, Spar (2005, p. 287) notes that “There is already an active international trade in the components of baby production—wombs, sperm and eggs”.

Scholarship on the phenomenon of surrogacy has been ebullient and perennial, yielding contending perspectives. In the main, extant standpoints have differed significantly on the question of ethical-cum-moral justification of commercial surrogacy, beyond its legality or otherwise (Scott, 2008; Wallero, 2014; Mustapha, 2018). A fundamental concern in this regard is the issue as to whether commercial surrogacy amounts to selling a baby or selling reproductive/childbearing services (Jokornegay, 1990). For Jokornegay (1990, p. 45), commercial surrogacy is tantamount to baby selling in that

The surrogate receives the bulk of the payment only if and when she hands a live baby over [to] the couple. She receives comparatively little money in the case of a miscarriage or stillbirth. Consequently, she is primarily or exclusively selling a baby, not child-bearing services.

Such a perspective resonates with Choudhury (2015, p. 14) who points out that

Because the ultimate purpose is the production of a child through the commodified services of surrogate’s reproductive ability and because there is an exchange of payment for the child, the argument is that commercial surrogacy is, in fact, the sale of children.

Essentially, the transaction underlying commercial surrogacy is geared towards exchange. More importantly, the surrogate’s services are essentially commodified within an exchange framework that produces a reward in the form of payment. And in the course of the transaction, a commoditized transfer is made to somebody who pays. Ultimately, therefore, “the outcome of the transaction is the same: a child is transferred from one person to another in the presence or absence of the existing genetic ties” (Choudhury, 2015, p.16).

Analysts who view commercial surrogacy in terms of reproductive service provisioning are inclined to arguing from an indifferent attitude to the morality and ethical rectitude or soundness of the commerce of surrogacy. For them, the transaction underlying the process of surrogacy arrangement is a paid service in the context of open market relations (Spar, 2005; Holzberg, 2018; Dowedoff, 2018). Such a position is curiously indifferent to the plight of the surrogate mother as well as the child being transferred. In effect, the position holds in denial of the mistreatment of the surrogate mother and the child in the degrading and exploitative structures underpinning commercial surrogacy in some instances (Scott, 2008; Wallero, 2014; Cheney, n.d).

‘Baby factories’ vs. the objectification of surrogacy cum child adoption in Nigeria

The context and workings of the abusive, commercialized surrogacy being discussed in this paper need to be situated. To begin with, while the commercial demand for babies in the West may have been driven by the fancy of sentimental adoption (Choudhury, 2015), such a demand in Nigeria has been largely dictated by some fundamental socio-existential and material imperatives (Onuoha, 2014a & b). The general belief (mind-set) that the ultimate purpose of marriage is childbearing in addition to the social stigmatization of infertility and/ or childlessness in Nigeria provides an abiding socio-cultural impetus for the desperation to have a child via third-party reproductive paths. The situation is complicated by the deep-seated cultural antipathies against legal adoption and surrogacy as modes of alternative parenting. In effect, most Nigerian child-seeking couples would rather seek to have a child through clandestine and illicit avenues such as ‘baby factories’ (Markinde et al., 2017).

Besides, people’s resort to ‘baby factories’ as a means of having a baby is equally informed by the longsuffering associated with the process of legal adoption in Nigeria. As Nwaka and Odoemene (2019, pp. 6–7) elaborately elucidate:

The legal adoption process has a lot of encumbrances that make it less accessible to adoptive parents. Stringent demands and requirements for adopting a child keep away some adoptive parents who may not meet those requirements. For example, prospective single adopters face more challenges than couples in the process of adoption in Nigeria. In the same way, a low-income earner may not be able to meet all the needed requirements for adopting a baby through an orphanage. Arguably, formal adoption in Nigeria is not for the poor. In addition to these procedural challenges is the long period of waiting for babies. Since most of these formally established institutions depend on abandoned babies and orphans, couples wanting babies for adoption often spend months and years waiting. To avoid such long waiting and other encumbrances associated with adoption, childless couples look out for alternatives, which ‘baby factories’ provide.

Evidently, most orphanages are starved of babies owing to the rising dearth of abandoned (or unwanted) babies. This development has been made possible by the advent of commoditized surrogate relations as well as the emergence of ‘baby factories’. So nowadays, some young girls and women who conceive outside marriage would rather sell off their babies instead of giving them up to orphanages for care.

Having a baby through ‘baby factories’ has become a money-making business, driven by crass material opportunism and profiteering (Okoli, 2014). This material imperative has organically reinforced the social value placed on childbearing towards engendering desperation for child-seeking among childless couples. Added to this is the growing desire of some single persons (including queer persons: homosexuals and lesbians) to have children through third-party arrangements. Also relevant is the preference for male children in some patriarchal cultural settings where women are not entitled to ancestral inheritance. These factors have intersected to bring about heightened demand for babies, and by extension, the blossoming of the illicit baby market, with the consequence being the proliferation of ‘baby factories’ in the country.

Nigeria’s national health law does not have any explicit provision surrogacy (Sanni, 2018). It neither prescribes nor proscribes it! ‘Baby factories’ have capitalized on this legal lacuna to proliferate as both surrogacy agencies and sources of legal adoption. Besides, ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria have festered within the context of extreme pro-natalist and pro-materialist cultures. In such contexts, much emphasis is laid on having children as much as having material wealth. Those who have material wealth but lack children are inclined to explore all means possible to make up for their social inadequacy, including patronizing ‘baby factories’ (Umeora, Umeora, Emma-Echigu, & Chukwuneke, 2014). The vulnerable young woman who is bearing an unwanted pregnancy amidst threats of social stigmatization and rejection finds a pyrrhic solace in one of the ‘baby factories’. Upon delivery, she may get a token of compensation for giving up her child in an obnoxious transaction made according to the whims and caprices of the ‘factory’ operator(s) and/ or the baby seller(s). For this transaction, the reward of the buyer is a child; and the seller appropriates of the proceeds of which he parts with a token to compensate the surrogate mother. This way, the business of commercialized industrial surrogacy is sustained.

The objectification of surrogacy and child adoption through ‘baby factories’ has been prevalent in Nigeria. A police raid in 2018 in Lagos led to the rescue of 162 abandoned babies from a number of such ‘factories’ within the state (Olowoopejo, 2018). These were babies born to teenage girls who were lured into baby factory nets by syndicates. The ‘factories’ operate as outlets of human trafficking where children are obtained through illicit adoption and surrogacy. In effect, “Traffickers operate ‘baby factories’—often disguised as orphanages, maternity homes, or religious centers—where traffickers hold women against their will, rape them, and force them to carry and deliver a child” (Koigi, 2020, para.4^[2]).

Upon delivery, the operators of such facilities sell the resultant child, usually through a commissioned agent that serves as a merchant-facilitator in the illicit business (Okoli, 2014; Nwaka, 2019). The young women and girls held in such facilities are, by and large, victims of human trafficking and reproductive bondage. Although there have been rare cases where girls who bear a premature pregnancy voluntarily seek solace in such places in an effort to escape both family victimization and social stigmatization (Okoli, 2014), the girls are, more often than not, cajoled or forced into the illicit activity. Indeed, they are, more appropriately, victims rather than actors in the practice.

To be sure, most of the girls are recruited through deceit or false promises. There have been cases where vulnerable girls from poor neighbourhoods were deceived into such an activity by friends or neighbours who would pretend to be helping them (Nwaka, 2019). For instance, in 2018, there was a report of two girls who were recruited from an Internally Displaced Persons’ (IDPs) camp in Maiduguri under the guise of going for a domestic service job in southeastern Nigeria (Obaji, 2020). The two girls ended up in a ‘baby factory’ in Enugu where they were detained, raped, and impregnated, with their babies sold to stand-by buyers upon delivery. Also, there have been instances where victims were simply abducted and taken to similar facilities for the purposes of bearing a child for sale.

A typical ‘baby factory’ is a restricted harbour. It is guarded by hefty men who also take part in impregnating their girl-victims (Okoli, 2014). Corroborated anecdotes in southeastern Nigeria suggest that the victims are often hoodwinked through the use of charms and psychological intimidation. Revelations from victims indicate that they were subjected to aggravated sexual violence in the harbour. In addition to being forcibly impregnated, the victims have also been used as sex slaves or objects. They would have to sleep with different men, even during pregnancy (Obaji, 2020). In this regard, the operators of ‘baby factories’ also utilize their facilities as centres of sex slavery and forced prostitution. Essentially, the victims are used as expendable factors in abusively commercialized and illicit surrogacy relations where their will, feelings, autonomy, agency, subjectivity, and active engagement do not come into play. Besides, the babies born in such facilities have also been objectified. They have been treated as mere ‘articles of trade’. Worse still, they have also been objectified, not only for adoptive purposes, but also, arguably, for ritual and allied ends (Koigi, 2020).

‘Baby factories’ in Nigeria has been a booming business. Associated with it is a ‘value-chain’, involving a number of illicit actors and collaborators. The first in the value chain is a baby factory proprietor who provides an enabling platform and capital for the business. The second is the commissioned middleman whose responsibility is to scout for patronage for the business. The third is the vulnerable young pregnant girl who is harboured in the facility for the term of the pregnancy, or even rounds thereof. The last player is the baby-buyer who pays to acquire a baby from the facility. In spite of its apparent benefits, the criminal complications of the black-market phenomenon have ensnared its possible justification and rationalization. Whatever the underlying circumstances are, and however saintly the motive could be, the mother and child involved are both objectified and dehumanized.

The logic of objectification in respect of the baby factory phenomenon follows almost typically Nussbaum’s (1995) conceptual schema. Table 2 is instructive in this regard. It suffices to state that the illustration in Table 2 is designed to outline the situational manifestations of the objectifying essence of ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria, in the light of field-based observations and anecdotes.

Ending ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria: Some actionable reflections

The commercialization and sale of infants in the guise of ‘baby factories’ has been entrenched as an integral component of Nigeria’s thriving black-market or underground economy. This phenomenon will continue to prevail in view of two fundamental reasons. First, as long as there is continued demand for and a supply of babies, baby buying/selling will surely find ample material premise to subsist. Incidentally, such demand/supply has been on the increase; an indication that the end of baby buying/selling enterprise is not in any close sight.

The second factor relates to unregulated surrogacy. “While surrogacy is not expressly prohibited in Nigeria, it is also not legally acknowledged” (Adelakun, 2018, p. 613). This has presented a needless challenge as regards addressing the excesses and abuses of commercial surrogacy in Nigeria. The third factor is the fact that the prevalence of baby buying/selling has been facilitated by the ‘black-market syndrome’, wherein actors are inclined to dealing illicitly but rationally in service of their mutual bargains and interests. By so doing, they have tried to keep the ‘business’ going against obvious strong moral, ethical and legal reproaches.

Going forward, it would be apposite to regulate commercial surrogacy and allied practices rather than seeking to stigmatize or proscribing same. The government must ensure that infant adoption is legally done, and ideally, on the basis of altruism rather than outright commercial consideration. An enabling legislation should be instituted to regulate infant adoption and surrogacy services in order to ensure a stop to the associated abuses. More specifically, the obnoxious ‘baby factories’ phenomenon should be deterred through a strategic measure capable of raising the cost of their indulgence over their reward. Equally, the populace should be sensitized to the moral propriety of legal surrogacy and statutory adoption in order to promote their acceptability, especially against the widespread stigmatization they have suffered in some cultural contexts in Nigeria over the years.

Conclusion

Commercial surrogacy has been a topical and controversial issue in Nigeria. In spite of the widespread religious and customary antipathies against the practice, it has prevailed. Extant laws are ambivalent on commercial surrogacy. They neither explicitly condemn nor uphold it; hence, it has subsisted without much statutory regulation and moderation, and incidentally, with collateral abuses, including the gale of ‘baby factories’. In the absence of any strong regulatory framework guiding it, commercial surrogacy has been practiced with criminal opportunism and impunity. It has followed the logic of ‘black market’ syndrome, with its crudest expression evidenced in the proliferation of ‘baby factories’ phenomenon. ‘Baby factories’ undercut reproductive law and morality by rendering illicit reproductive services. In effect, they have provided a criminal avenue for the buying and selling of infants in the most objectified and objectionable manner.

Apparently underpinned by the logic of socio-existential and criminal opportunism, ‘baby factories’ in Nigeria have blossomed into a sort of a bourgeoning underground enterprise, with pregnant girls and infants as stocks-in-trade. The problem with the practice, however, lies less in its tendency to commodification than to objectification. In spite of the collateral abuses associated with it, the phenomenon has continued to thrive alongside its surrogate and adoptive (mal)practices. As the socio-existential imperatives continue to prevail, so will its criminal trajectory subsist and aggrandize. To mitigate the menace, it is pertinent to regularize the abusive practice through a proper surrogacy/ child adoption regimen capable of regulating the associated practices and deterring abuses.