My journey into reproductive justice was shaped by the contradictions I kept encountering in law and policy. As a lawyer working on sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) and gender-based violence (GBV), I saw how laws that appear progressive on paper often fail women in practice. A girl may be legally entitled to healthcare but blocked by consent requirements. A survivor of violence may be encouraged to report but face stigma, disbelief, or re-traumatization in court. A woman may technically have choices but no access, safety, or resources to exercise them meaningfully. These gaps are not accidental; they are structural.
For a long time, conversations about women’s reproductive health in Africa have been framed around “choice” mainly, the ability to decide whether or not to have children. While choice matters, it has never fully captured the realities many women and girls live with. Over the years, through legal practice, advocacy, and research, I have come to understand that reproductive justice, is the framework that best explains both the problem and the solution.
Reproductive justice, a framework developed by Black women in the United States, moves beyond individual choice and asks deeper questions about power, inequality, and lived realities. It is anchored on three core principles: the right to have children, the right not to have children, and the right to parent children in safe, dignified, and supportive environments. Importantly, it recognizes that these rights cannot exist without social, economic, legal, and political conditions that make them possible.
In African contexts, reproductive justice resonates deeply. The lives of women and girls are shaped not only by gender, but also by poverty, age, disability, migration status, culture, religion, and the legacy of colonial legal systems. An adolescent girl navigating pregnancy, a woman in an informal settlement seeking healthcare, or a survivor of intimate partner violence attempting to leave an unsafe home all face intersecting barriers that “choice” alone does not address. Reproductive justice forces us to confront these intersections honestly.
As a legal framework, reproductive justice also exposes the limitations of fragmented law reform. When criminal law, health law, customary practices, and constitutional protections contradict each other, women are left navigating a legal maze. This undermines the rule of law itself. Laws should provide clarity, protection, and predictability, not confusion and fear. Reproductive justice demands coherence, accountability, and a survivor-centred approach to justice.
Reproductive justice is my north star because it refuses to separate rights from reality. It insists that dignity, autonomy, and safety are not privileges, but entitlements. And it reminds us that justice is not achieved when laws exist, but when they work for the people they are meant to serve.