Award-winning Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has recently opened up about a deeply personal decision—her choice to share that her twins were born via surrogacy.
During a heartfelt panel discussion hosted by media personality Chude Jideonwo, the 47-year-old literary icon explained the motivation behind her revelation.
She acknowledged the importance of honesty in public discourse, particularly when it involves issues that can impact others on a societal level.
“Why did I say that I had my twins via a surrogate?” Adichie asked candidly. “Well, because it’s true.”
Her simple yet powerful statement underscored a broader mission to confront stigma and misinformation, especially concerning fertility.
Adichie recounted how assumptions began to swirl the moment the public learned she had given birth to twins. She described the speculative buzz that followed, noting how many people were quick to romanticize or misrepresent the circumstances.
“There are certain things that you cannot hide, and you cannot hide the existence of two perfect beings,” she said with pride. “People just went off with this thing about me—‘She’s 47 and she had babies’—and I don’t like to lie about things that can be consequential for other people.”
She added that she felt a sense of responsibility, especially towards women who might feel inadequate or pressured by misleading narratives. “I felt as though there’d be other women who would then be pressured and be told, ‘Look, she’s 47 and she has twins; what about you?’”
Despite her reputation for being fiercely private, Adichie made it clear that this was one instance where silence could be harmful. She expressed concern that the truth, if hidden, might contribute to societal expectations that place unrealistic burdens on women.
“Just in general, I think there’s so much shame around fertility that I think is too much of a burden on women,” she said. Her voice carried both conviction and compassion as she addressed the emotional toll such silence can take.
“Women are ashamed when they have fibroids or when they have trouble getting pregnant and I don’t believe in that sort of shame.”
For Adichie, openness is a tool not just for personal liberation, but for collective empowerment.
She also recounted a moment during an interview that prompted her to disclose the truth. The interviewer had complimented her appearance, remarking, “You look fantastic for someone who just had babies.”
Rather than simply accepting the compliment, Adichie decided to use the moment to clarify the situation. “I wasn’t going to say thank you because that’s a lie,” she explained.
“So I told her that they were born by a surrogate, and I hear that there was a bit of noise about that.”
Her choice to speak out wasn’t to make headlines but to avoid perpetuating falsehoods that could mislead others, especially women grappling with their own fertility journeys.
Through her words, Adichie offered a powerful reminder that the truth, though often uncomfortable, can be a form of solidarity.
By shedding light on her own experience with surrogacy, she not only humanized the process but also encouraged broader conversations about fertility, shame, and societal pressure.
In doing so, she affirmed her belief that there is no single path to motherhood—and that all paths, including surrogacy, deserve to be seen, understood, and respected.
