What should have been a joyful day outside the fertility clinic quickly devolved into shock and rising tension.

A young man arrived early, carrying neatly packed baby clothes, blankets, toiletries, and gifts he had carefully collected over several months.

“I had been preparing for these twins for months. We were so ready to welcome them,” he told a witness.

Family members accompanied him, anticipating a long-awaited celebration.

Yet, inside the clinic, events had already taken a sudden and unexpected turn.

The woman he had supported throughout her pregnancy was admitted in labour after complications arose while visiting him.

She was quickly transferred to the fertility centre where previous procedures had been performed.

After a Caesarean section, the babies were delivered safely, according to medical sources.

However, instead of meeting the newborns, the man was told they had died.

“It was shocking; I could not believe what I was hearing; we were confused and scared; nothing made sense,” a relative said.

Requests to see the babies reportedly met resistance, intensifying the situation.

Voices were raised, questions multiplied, and the confrontation drew attention from hospital staff, patients, and neighbours.

It later emerged that the pregnancy had been part of a gestational surrogacy arrangement for another couple.

The embryos had been created through In Vitro Fertilisation (IVF) months earlier, with the agreement that the children would be handed over to the commissioning parents after birth.

Adding complexity, the surrogate had presented the pregnancy to her partner as his own.

Throughout the gestation, he provided emotional and financial support, unaware that it was part of a formal surrogacy arrangement.

The revelation at delivery transformed private expectation into a public dispute, marked by shock, anger, and allegations of deception.

Experts say the incident highlights systemic problems, as Nigeria’s assisted reproductive sector has expanded without sufficient legal oversight.

Dr. David Edeh, a health law practitioner in Abuja, provided insights.

“In Nigeria today, surrogacy exists more in practice than in law.

“There is no clear legal roadmap for disputes over parental rights or compensation. Families often navigate these situations alone,’’ he said.

Across the country, fertility clinics now provide IVF, egg donation, intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection, and gestational surrogacy, offering new hope to couples facing infertility or medical barriers to pregnancy.

Yet, Nigeria lacks a comprehensive national law governing assisted reproductive technologies.

Globally, infertility affects one in six people, according to the World Health Organisation (WHO).

Assisted reproductive technologies are growing steadily, with more than 2.5 million IVF cycles performed worldwide annually, resulting in hundreds of thousands of births.

Nigeria reflects this trend, though without centralised data.

Specialists estimate thousands of IVF procedures occur each year in major cities, driven by delayed childbearing, increased awareness of treatment options, and rising reproductive health challenges.

Unlike countries with established regulation, most Nigerian surrogacy arrangements rely on private agreements rather than statutory safeguards.

Consequently, when disputes arise, parties face uncertainty over consent, parental rights, and financial responsibilities.

Mr. Joel Popoola, a legal analyst, weighed in.

“When disputes arise, there is little clarity on consent, parental rights, or financial responsibilities.

“This leaves families vulnerable to emotional and financial harm.’’

According to him, surrogate mothers face specific difficulties, often intensified by economic vulnerability and societal pressures.

“Many women who act as surrogates come from low-income backgrounds seeking financial relief.

“They may enter agreements without fully understanding the medical risks or legal consequences,” Popoola explained.

He added that some surrogate mothers encountered delayed or withheld payments, pressure to continue pregnancies despite medical risks, and inadequate post-delivery support.

He said that, in certain cases, they reported feeling abandoned or stigmatised when disputes with commissioning parents arise.

Dr. Ifeoma Nwachukwu, a reproductive health sociologist, said surrogacy could expose women to social stigma and moral judgment.

“Even when arrangements are consensual, secrecy is often maintained to avoid criticism, creating conflicting narratives that complicate trust. Infertility carries deep stigma in many communities.

“Couples pursue IVF discreetly, and surrogates may conceal their role to avoid moral criticism. These pressures heighten emotional strain and increase the likelihood of conflict,’’ he said.

Dr. Olumide Adetunji, a reproductive endocrinologist in Lagos, emphasised that surrogacy is more than a clinical procedure.

“It is a complex social and emotional arrangement.

“Without structured counselling, independent legal advice, and informed consent, misunderstandings can escalate into crises affecting everyone involved,” he said.

In countries with formal regulation, participants undergo psychological evaluation, receive independent legal guidance, and formally document parental rights before treatment begins.

In contrast, many Nigerian arrangements proceed informally, motivated by urgency, financial need, or reliance on trust.

Public health advocates warn that regulatory gaps leave both surrogates and intending parents exposed.

They insist that women may lack guaranteed medical coverage or post-delivery care, while commissioning parents risk disputes over custody, documentation, and disclosure.

Nonetheless, legal uncertainty compounds the problem.

Nigerian law emphasises ‘mater semper certa est’—the presumption that the woman who gives birth is the legal mother.

Without clear legislation, courts may hesitate to enforce surrogacy agreements, leaving questions of parenthood unresolved.

Globally, regulatory approaches vary.

Some countries ban surrogacy outright, others permit only altruistic arrangements, while a few allow carefully regulated commercial systems.

What these frameworks have in common, however, is legal certainty, with clear rules on eligibility, informed consent, financial arrangements, and recognition of parentage at birth.

“Without clear legislation, Nigeria’s practice has outpaced policy.

“The stakes are high; ethical, medical, and emotional consequences affect the surrogate, the intending parents, and most importantly, the child,” Adetunji added.

Following the incident, calls have intensified for national guidelines, including licensing fertility centres, enforceable consent protocols, mandatory counselling, and legal representation for all parties.

Stakeholders insist that legislation must protect surrogates, children, and intending parents.

The dispute has drawn overdue attention to a largely unregulated sector, highlighting the urgent need for safeguards.

As demand for assisted reproduction rises, driven by delayed childbearing, infertility, and awareness of fertility options, Nigeria stands at a crossroads.

To make surrogacy safe, ethical and fair, experts say there is a need for robust laws, clear-cut procedures, and strict supervision.

By Tosin Kolade, News Agency of Nigeria