The Lens Through Which I See
At eleven, they called it "a holiday." She returned cut, her body forever altered without her permission. No one discussed it with her until years later, when her public health studies revealed what she had lost. Now at 27, pregnant and glowing, photographer Hickmatu Leigh touches her belly with newfound tenderness. "I avoided my womb for years," she admits. "Now we're finally making peace."
College brought freedom and discovery, but also pain. "I didn't know anything about pregnancy signs," she says. When she got pregnant, older students noticed her growing pallor, her frequent nausea. The abortion that followed left deep scars. "It was brutal. I felt everything. Afterward, I just felt empty, like somebody took something out of me."
She turned to morning-after pills, using them like regular birth control. "No one explained they were only for emergencies. They're so cheap, so easy to get." Her body changed - irregular periods, weight gain - but pharmacists kept selling without question. "If I went fifteen times to buy this pill, they'd sell it because they want to make money. Did they care about the effects on my body?"
Years passed. She met her current partner, and something shifted. "I started having dreams. I felt this intense urge for a baby." She began preparing her body - taking folic acid, eating healthy, asking other women about their journeys.
When pregnancy came, she couldn't believe it. "I did two tests. Clear lines both times. Still didn't believe it. Did another one. Still didn't believe." Even after the hospital confirmed she was eight weeks pregnant, the news felt surreal.
Her partner needed time to adjust. "Give me time to take this in," he said. Now he sends her daily baby videos, never misses a hospital visit, makes sure she has money for check-ups. "He became the sweetest person."
She faces her pregnancy with modern tools and traditional wisdom. TikTok connects her to other women's stories. Chat GPT answers her midnight worries. Her mother, steeped in tradition, tells her, "The baby is turning, just walk, exercise."
Coming from a traditional background, she's chosen her own path. "Everyone doesn't have a straight path of graduate, marry, then baby. Mine is different. I'm a creative, a free spirit. Once I'm happy and feel it's right, I do it."
Her pregnancy has transformed her art. As a photographer who captures only women, she sees with new eyes. "I want to show the mental journey of first-time moms without support. Everyone focuses on the physical, but what about our minds, our hearts?"
Raised by strong women without a father figure, she wants different for her child. "My baby will have a present father," she says, then adds softly, "Sometimes I get scared - please don't leave after I give birth. It's too triggering."
Her journey from trauma to healing powers her creativity. "I want to photograph women's struggles - with fistula, with infertility, with the traditional sacrifices we're told to make for our wombs. I want to tell these stories through my lens."
She speaks with urgency about breaking silences. "We don't talk about our bodies with our mothers or sisters. We don't dare. But look how good it feels to share these stories. Other women need this too - they just can't get it yet."