Steroid abuse for fake pregnancy linked to breast cancer, serious health risks

Women engaging in fake pregnancy practices experience profound emotional distress, shame, and psychological trauma; children involved in trafficking syndicates face exploitation and trafficking risks.
It is a scam, and it's actually criminal
A gynaecologist describes the practice of using steroids to fake pregnancy, which isolates women from medical care while fueling baby trafficking.
Mark

Why would a woman choose to inject herself with steroids to fake a pregnancy? What's the desperation that leads there?

Mimi

Infertility carries enormous stigma in many cultures, and the pressure to produce a biological child—especially from a husband or family—can be crushing. A woman facing years of failed attempts, failed treatments, or no access to treatment at all, might see this as a way to buy time, to keep her marriage intact, to avoid shame. The syndicates exploit that desperation.

Mark

And the people running these schemes—they're deliberately keeping women away from hospitals?

Mimi

Yes. Once a woman is injected and the physical changes begin, the handlers tell her not to go near medical facilities. No ultrasounds, no blood tests. They say they'll manage everything. It's control. It keeps the deception intact and keeps the woman dependent on them.

Mark

What happens when the husband finds out?

Mimi

The emotional damage is severe. Women report profound shame, trauma, psychological distress. Their marriages often collapse. And they're left with damaged bodies—hormonal systems disrupted, increased cancer risk, potential infertility made worse. The very thing they were trying to hide becomes reality.

Mark

Is there a way to distinguish between a real pregnancy and this fake one?

Mimi

A simple ultrasound would expose it immediately. That's why the handlers forbid hospital visits. But once a woman is in a hospital being examined, the truth comes out. There's no hiding it from trained medical professionals.

Mark

What's the role of the babies in all this?

Mimi

They're trafficked. Sourced from vulnerable families, orphanages, or through illegal networks. The woman becomes part of a trafficking chain, whether she fully understands it or not. The child has no legal protection, no documented parentage. It's exploitation on multiple levels.

Mark

So the solution is just telling women to go to fertility clinics instead?

Mimi

That's necessary but not sufficient. Fertility treatment is expensive and not always accessible. Adoption is cheaper and more humane, but adoption in Nigeria is bogged down in bureaucracy and costs. Until government removes those barriers, desperation will keep driving women toward dangerous alternatives.

  • Women in Lagos and beyond are injecting high-dose hormonal steroids to mimic pregnancy symptoms — bloating, missed periods, morning sickness — with no child and no safety net, only the mounting damage of unregulated drugs coursing through their bodies.
  • The health consequences are catastrophic and often irreversible: breast and ovarian cancer, stroke, liver and kidney failure, psychosis, and permanent infertility — the very condition these women were trying to escape.
  • Behind the deception lies organized crime — trafficking syndicates that recruit desperate women, administer the drugs, and supply trafficked infants for staged deliveries, deliberately cutting women off from hospitals and any medical scrutiny that could unravel the scheme.
  • When the truth surfaces, the psychological wreckage compounds the physical: shame, trauma, and emotional collapse — while the underlying infertility that started everything remains unaddressed and untreated.
  • Nigeria's medical community is calling for immediate action on two fronts — wider access to legitimate fertility care and a sweeping reform of the country's adoption system, which remains so costly and bureaucratically tangled that it inadvertently funnels desperate women toward dangerous alternatives.

Across Nigeria, women caught between the cultural weight of motherhood and the quiet grief of infertility are turning to a dangerous deception — injecting themselves with unregulated steroids to simulate pregnancy, often ensnared by criminal networks that traffic infants to complete the illusion. Gynaecologists are now raising urgent alarm, not only about the grave physical toll — cancer, organ failure, permanent hormonal ruin — but about the deeper tragedy of women harming themselves in pursuit of something that legitimate medicine and reformed adoption pathways might otherwise provide. This is a story about what happens when desperation meets a broken system, and when the longing for life becomes a doorway to exploitation.

In Lagos and across Nigeria, a perilous practice has taken hold among women desperate for motherhood: using high-dose steroids to manufacture the physical signs of pregnancy — the swollen belly, the missed periods, the nausea — while no child exists. What follows is a deception that frequently draws women into criminal trafficking networks, and what precedes it is a cascade of medical harm that gynaecologists are now speaking out against with growing urgency.

The drugs involved — typically unregulated doses of estrogen and progesterone — do far more than create a false appearance. They trigger blood clots, liver damage, kidney failure, and lasting hormonal disruption. Women face elevated risks of breast and ovarian cancer, cardiovascular disease, and in some cases psychosis. The long-term damage can be irreversible, including the permanent infertility these women were originally trying to conceal.

The scheme is rarely a solitary act. Former trafficking authority director Julie Okah-Donli has documented how syndicates recruit women, administer the steroids, coach them to perform pregnancy, and arrange for trafficked infants to appear after staged cesarean deliveries. Practitioners running these operations deliberately forbid ultrasounds and blood tests — any examination that might expose the fraud. Prof. Christopher Aimakhu of the Society of Gynaecology and Obstetrics of Nigeria is unambiguous: "It is a scam, and it's actually criminal."

For those caught in the cycle, the aftermath is devastating on every level. Prof. Preye Fiebai of the Association for Fertility and Reproductive Health describes the psychological toll — shame, trauma, and emotional collapse — as compounding the physical destruction already done. Worse, the deception delays women from seeking the legitimate fertility care that might have helped them in the first place.

Doctors are united in their counsel: consult a fertility specialist early, ensure both partners are evaluated, and consider adoption as a genuine and honourable path to parenthood. But Nigeria's adoption system remains burdened by high costs, bureaucratic complexity, and opacity — conditions that push desperate women toward dangerous choices. Experts are calling on government to harmonise adoption laws, reduce barriers, and restore transparency, so that the longing for a child no longer has to become a doorway to self-destruction.

In Lagos and across Nigeria, a dangerous practice has taken root among women desperate for motherhood: injecting themselves with steroids to create the physical appearance of pregnancy. The drugs bloat the face, enlarge the abdomen, trigger morning sickness and missed periods—all the visible markers of carrying a child. But there is no child. What follows is deception, often orchestrated by criminal syndicates that traffic infants to unsuspecting husbands, and what precedes it is a cascade of medical catastrophe that doctors are now urgently warning against.

Gynaecologists across Nigeria have begun speaking publicly about the health toll. The steroids used in these schemes—typically high-dose hormones like estrogen and progesterone—do not simply create a false belly. They trigger high blood pressure, blood clots, liver damage, kidney failure, and permanent disruption of the body's hormonal system. Women face increased risk of breast cancer and ovarian cancer. They suffer mood disturbances, anxiety, depression, and in some cases psychosis. The short-term effects include fluid retention, swelling, elevated blood sugar, and heightened susceptibility to infection. The long-term damage can be irreversible: infertility, osteoporosis, cardiovascular disease including heart attack and stroke, chronic liver disease.

What makes this practice particularly insidious is its connection to organized trafficking. Julie Okah-Donli, former Director-General of the National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons, has documented how the scheme operates. Women are recruited and injected with steroids that transform their bodies into convincing simulacra of pregnancy. They learn to mimic pregnancy symptoms—the nausea, the vomiting, the cravings. They time fake surgical procedures, arranging for supposed cesarean deliveries while their husbands are away or running errands. When the husband returns, a baby appears. The deception is complete. But the babies are not theirs. They have been trafficked into the arrangement, often from vulnerable families or orphanages, and the women involved in the scheme become unwitting—or knowing—participants in child trafficking networks.

Prof. Preye Fiebai, President of the Association for Fertility and Reproductive Health, has treated women caught in this cycle. He describes the psychological aftermath as devastating: profound shame, emotional distress, and trauma that compounds the physical damage already done to their bodies. "Beyond the physical effects, many women experience profound emotional distress, shame, and psychological trauma when the deception is eventually uncovered," he explained in an interview. The practice also delays women from seeking legitimate medical help for the underlying infertility that drove them to this choice in the first place.

Prof. Christopher Aimakhu, Second Vice President of the Society of Gynaecology and Obstetrics of Nigeria, calls it what it is: medical fraud and a criminal enterprise. The practitioners who administer these drugs deliberately isolate their patients from hospitals and medical testing. They forbid ultrasounds, blood work, any examination that would expose the deception. They promise total care while actually ensuring total control. "It is a scam, and it's actually criminal," Aimakhu said.

The doctors are unified in their message to women facing infertility: seek legitimate help. Subfertility is a medical condition affecting millions of couples worldwide, and in many cases effective treatments exist. Women should consult fertility specialists early—after one year of unprotected intercourse, or after six months if over 35. Both partners should be evaluated, since male factors account for 40 to 50 percent of infertility cases. For those unable to conceive biologically, adoption offers what Fiebai calls a "noble and life-changing pathway" that provides vulnerable children with stable families while offering hope to couples.

But adoption in Nigeria remains encumbered by bureaucratic barriers, high costs, and lack of transparency—obstacles that push desperate women toward dangerous alternatives. Fiebai and other experts are calling on government and stakeholders to harmonize adoption laws across states, reduce unnecessary fees and paperwork, and improve accountability to prevent corruption and trafficking. The path forward requires both individual choice and systemic change: women choosing medical care over deception, and a government making legitimate pathways to parenthood accessible enough that desperation no longer drives women to poison their own bodies.

Beyond the physical effects, many women experience profound emotional distress, shame, and psychological trauma when the deception is eventually uncovered.
— Prof. Preye Fiebai, President of the Association for Fertility and Reproductive Health
Women are given unregulated drugs or pills containing high levels of hormones, most times oestrogen and progesterone. The handlers tell them not to go near hospitals where medical tests can be done or ultrasounds performed. It is a scam, and it's actually criminal.
— Prof. Christopher Aimakhu, Second Vice President of the Society of Gynaecology and Obstetrics of Nigeria
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