Adaku Utah Believes Abortion Care Goes Beyond Legality

“Community is the antidote,” says the reproductive justice organizer Adaku Utah some 48 hours after Monday's leaked Supreme Court opinion spelled likely doom for Roe v. Wade, a result that could lead to abortion becoming illegal in as many as 25 states. This is a truth Utah learned decades ago as a child growing up in Nigeria, when they organized with their fellow elementary school students to speak out against a teacher who they said assaulted them and their peers. The children banded together, shared their stories, and ultimately ousted the teacher from the school, Utah recalls.

“That had such a huge imprint on me,” they explain. “Knowing that I wasn’t alone, but also that together we could make violence visible and demand better conditions.”

As the Organizing Director at the National Network of Abortion Funds (NNAF), Utah’s circle of concern has expanded considerably, though their belief in the power of collective action remains consistent. In this role, Utah’s work is to help deepen the mission of the NNAF’s roughly 90 member organizations, extending their political reach from offering practical aid toward movement building.

“We know that direct service is crucial, but direct service alone won’t eliminate the systemic forces of violence that make abortion access so inaccessible,” Utah says. “We have expanded our strategy to include building power so that we can center the leadership of Black, Indigigenous, and folks of color in this work — not just as recipients of services, but as leaders transforming the abortion landscape.”

When we speak over Zoom, Utah exudes none of the despair one might expect of someone whose job is poised to grow increasingly difficult in the coming weeks, months, even years. “I feel a lot of clarity,” they tell me. “This is ancient work that our people have done outside of the state and will continue to do, I think, forever.”

For Utah, the prospect of a post-Roe world is not daunting; folks in the realm of reproductive justice have been preparing for this reality for years. Rather, this feels like a moment to “keep reminding people that we’re here,” Utah says. “That even though institutions fail us, we are the ones that keep each other safe.”

Below, Them caught up with Adaku Utah about holistic healing, the expanding work of abortion funds, and grappling with hopelessness during anxious and uncertain times.

Before we get to the politics of today, I want to ground our conversation in your specific practice. I understand you represent the sixth generation of healers in your family. I’m curious what role this lineage plays in your organizing?

The work I do situates healing inside of the larger ecosystem of life. And so part of how we are in right relationships with ancestry and future generations is being in right relationships with our fellow kin, which is not just human beings, but also the soil, the oceans, the mountains. It’s recognizing that all of these life forms have something to teach us about healing and justice. In my practice, healing incorporates all of these different life forms and honors them holistically.

How does access to abortion fit into this larger framework of holistic healing?

Healing is self-determined and grounded in bodily autonomy and sovereignty. Abortion is healthcare. It’s one fractal of a larger kaleidoscope of healthcare needs that people have. If someone is choosing abortion care or trans care, for instance, part of my job is making sure they’re able to access that in ways that are safe, that are affordable, that are trustworthy, and that don’t have any shame or violence attached. Right now, the right is trying to contextualize abortion as not healthcare, but it’s really important to understand that it is. It is a form of healing and sovereignty that folks have the right to choose.

What does the National Network of Abortions do?

We are a large network of over 90 organizations who are working to build power by removing logistical, economic, political, and cultural barriers to receiving or accessing abortion. When someone is seeking an abortion, sometimes they may not be able to afford it, or even know where to go to get one. So when someone contacts an abortion fund, one of the first things that happens is offering a lot of care and compassion to the person making the decision. Abortion funds make people feel seen, heard, and trusted, whichever pregnancy outcome they end up choosing. After that, funds can help through offering money, translation, transportation, childcare coordination, along with emotional support and counseling before and after the procedure. Abortion funds are also a community of folks that people can return to as we build collective power.

Let’s turn to the leaked opinion. What was your initial reaction upon learning the news?

I was angry. I am really angry at the lack of care that our highest court has for people of color, for Black and Indigenous people. It’s such a callous and violent measure that will have vast and generational consequences. The language around it feels inhumane to me, like [its authors] don’t care about people at all. It’s not surprising, but that doesn’t make it any less aggravating. I’m also feeling grief, because the implications of this ruling will be dire. And not just around abortion access — the way the brief reads seems to attack so many fundamental human rights. This isn’t just about abortion; they’re coming for so many of us.

What would the overturning of Roe mean for abortion funds?

Abortion care is beyond legality. Whether or not the states come through, people will still need abortions. People will still have abortions, and we will be there to offer support and care for folks who need it when they do. Our ancestors and trancestors within and outside of hospitals and clinics have been partnering with their neighbors to care for our people. This is ancient work that we have done outside of the state and will continue to do so for, I think, forever. Knowing that gives me hope, energy, and assuredness. If you’re angry, if you’re despairing, if you’re feeling grief, thank you for feeling all of those things because those feelings make a lot of sense. And there are ways to bring all of that emotion into work with folks who’ve been doing it for a really long time, who understand the terrain that we’re moving in, who have really clear strategies for how to transform this shit.

Obviously there’s a lot of mobilization around issues of reproductive justice right now. What are some of the misconceptions you’re seeing on the left as far as how to resist the rollback of our rights?

One of the biggest things that I’ve seen is that people immediately want to create their own thing. I understand the intention, but when you move that quickly without talking to people who are already doing this work, without talking with community members around what they need, [these attempts] can end up being harmful. We’re seeing folks trying to co-opt language and long, rich legacies like the underground railroad, saying, “We’re going to start our own underground railroad for abortion.” And we’re like, “No, please don’t.” There are local organizing efforts. There are practical support efforts that have been happening for a really long time. We don’t have to reinvent the wheel.

As someone who’s been doing this work for years, how do we respond to the hopelessness that attends this moment, which feels like such a profound step backwards?

Power does not only lie with the state. We hold power. People hold power. Throughout time, we have been the ones who have been the antidote. We have been the ones who have shifted conditions to get our freedom, to get justice. This is what we do. There is inherent power in all of us. Our bodies are organized towards life. That’s how we live. Even our cells, from our circulatory systems, to our nervous systems, to our heart, our bones, our blood, on a fractal and cellular level, we are organized towards living. Then on a communal level, we have organized ourselves to make sure that our people can live with dignity. In every single state in this country, there are people who are working to make sure that reproductive justice, reproductive health, is possible. Join them. Connect with those folks and see how you can engage with the work that’s already happening. Even if you decide not to engage with an organization, we can change the culture. Who are 10 people in your life that you can have conversations with about abortion care and reproductive justice that you haven’t already?

[The author and advocate] Mariame Kaba offers that hope is a discipline. It’s something you practice. And so what are the practices that help to keep hope alive within you? That could be organizing. It could be healing. It could be doing ritual at the ocean or making a meal with your neighbor or supporting a child in learning about their own gender. Ask yourself: What are the things you can do that support hope growing inside of you?

Interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

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