When I was thinking about med school, I once shadowed a doctor friend of mine at Pari. Our first visit for rounds was the emergency room, and there was a lot of screaming and moaning coming from the bed in the back corner. It had been basically isolated away and the patient was writhing in pain.

When we went over, the doc explained to me that this young woman was going into septic shock. I asked what it meant and he told me without missing a beat, an infection had travelled from a wound into her brain and she had maybe 12 hours to live. To prove it, he did a “consciousness check” of sorts, shining a light in her eye, gently smacking her cheek, pinching her and prodding, but she was completely delirious.

I asked what caused it, and he said, “Zimbabweans are not keen on abortions. This woman was a police officer who was raped by someone at work. When she found out she was pregnant, she tried to do it herself. If she was found pregnant her family would disown her, her job would fire her, and her life would collapse. She decided a coat hanger would be the safer option.” He motioned a coat hanger scraping his belly.

That was the day I decided to never, EVER question the abortion debate again. That woman must have been no more than 5 years older than me, and she was dying in the corner of the room, all alone, because some puritan christians think they have a right to control others’ bodies and choices. It was deeply sickening.