As the months and years passed, the swelling in my lower abdomen doubled in size, and people often mistook it for a pregnancy, not realizing that I was suffering from a severe case of uterine fibroids.

I feared that my inability to bear a child would drive my husband to find another wife or take a mistress, as he wasn’t getting any younger either.

My once-normal period became unbearably heavy, lasting for extended periods. The fibroids caused such heavy bleeding that I had to use 5–8 menstrual pads every day during my cycle. I was literally bleeding every day, which left me weak and anemic.

The severe menstrual cramps were so painful that I would cry like a baby every time I menstruated. I was bedridden for days, and this started affecting my career as a teacher. My school began to see me as a liability, someone who could not perform her duties. They threatened to fire me due to the constant sick leaves I was taking, and eventually, I had to resign.

Carrying these massive fibroids felt like carrying a heavy cross. My life was spiraling downward, and I began to hate my own body. To be honest, my dear sisters, there were times I resented being a woman, cursed with all these troubles. I almost cursed God for making me a woman when men seemed free from such suffering.

My life became a living hell. Imagine the embarrassment of carrying a fibroid that looked like a six-month pregnancy. For seven long years, people whispered behind my back, spreading nasty rumors that I had been pregnant for eight years. Some even joked that the baby inside me must have grown a full set of teeth because they believed I was cursed, not knowing I was suffering from severe fibroids.

I didn’t just sit and let the fibroids ruin my life. I tried every remedy that came my way. I tried every drug, every injection, every advertised cure. I even tried “Agbo,” a local herbal concoction that promised to shrink fibroids. 

I purged so much from it that I became weak and pale, but still, nothing changed. The fibroids remained, tormenting me day and night, just like the biblical “Woman With The Issue Of Blood.”

Finally, I was advised to go to India for fibroid removal surgery. My husband and I scraped together every last penny we had, using his business capital and my savings from my teaching job. We spent a total of N15,500,000 on the trip. 

The surgery was successful, and the fibroids were removed, but within a year, they came back—this time, twice as big as before.

Frustrated and heartbroken, we decided to live with the fibroids since they were non-cancerous, even though it meant I would never be able to have my own children. I was devastated beyond words.

This was my life until I received a call that marked the beginning of my breakthrough. My aunt, who knew about my struggle, called me excitedly about a product called “Fibroclear capsules” that every woman was talking about. She told me about a woman who had carried fibroids for ten years and finally got rid of them after using these capsules. According to her, the fibroids shrank and came out as lumps during her menstruation after she used the Fibroclear capsules and tea.