When we first started dating, I was in Level 100, and we did not have sex until one night in Level 400. From then on, we began exploring that part of our relationship. During my national service, we found out that I was pregnant, and we agreed to keep the baby.
It was a battlefield. His family was fighting him, and my family was fighting me.
“What do you have? You have only just started life. What do you want to do with a child at this age?”
Still, I concluded that I was going to have the child, and thankfully, I had my mother’s support. Jacob supported me too. His mother, however, was not having it. According to her, I was the enemy of progress, the devil sent to stall her son’s success.
“My son has a bright future, and you will not destroy it.”
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She told me that at my age, I should simply do what other girls were doing so easily — terminate the pregnancy.
I gave birth during COVID-19, when the world was on lockdown. Throughout that period, our only source of income was the small bites we earned from the NSS allowance.
We named her Baby J. She was about six months old when Jacob got a scholarship to study abroad. We were happy because, ideally, it meant he was going to do everything possible to build a better future for us.
Two days before his departure, his mother called to warn me.
“Now that you know he is travelling, do not bother him for money. If you need anything, ask me.”
I was angry, but I kept my calm.
When he got there, he sent money whenever he wanted, and I let him do whatever pleased him. Fortunately for me, I got a job that paid very well. Jacob contributed whenever he felt like it, and I never complained. For three good years, I handled the upkeep almost entirely on my own.
Clearly, his mother called the shots in their home, and everyone obeyed. She dictated the women her sons should marry and how much upkeep they should provide. Anytime I visited, I was bullied, and her son did nothing about it.
When he finally returned to Ghana, even the question of who would pick him up from the airport turned into a fight. He came back with nothing but coats, furs, and a certificate — nothing more, nothing less.
For a month, my mother and I hosted him in our home so he could begin a job I had recommended to him.
We spoke about marriage often. To my face, he would tell me he was planning and that I should relax. Behind my back, however, he was telling people I was not marriage material. His mother also insisted that we could only get married after two more years so her son could focus on his dreams.
Later, he moved to Accra for another job opportunity, and that was when he truly changed. He began speaking to me disrespectfully, and whenever I complained, he silenced me with the same words:
“I am a man.”
Apparently, I was not allowed to be emotional about the things he was doing to me.
Then, in 2024, one day after I got promoted at work, I realised I had no one to truly share the news with. Yes, I had my family, but I longed for someone outside of family who loved me differently.
At the same time, my mother’s words kept ringing in my ears:
“Have some dignity and leave.”
And finally, I listened.
First, I stopped giving him money. Then, I put a password on my phone. That same year, I applied for an LLB and wrote the entrance examination.
But shortly after, I realised I was pregnant again.
I walked into a private hospital alone and paid to terminate the pregnancy.
We had discussed terminating it together, but that morning, I was the only one in the clinic — shaking, sweaty even under the air conditioner. He told me it was “my body, my choice.”
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But as if life wanted to add a little sweetness on top of my gari cake, I received a scholarship I had applied for during that same period.
That year’s Mother’s Day, we met at a hotel and slept together. He was still asleep in the room when I left. On my way home, I sent him a message ending things between us. Then I blocked him.
Not long after, I gained admission and had to relocate. I left our child in my mother’s care while I pursued the opportunity ahead of me.
When he heard about it, he returned with his pride lowered and his arrogance gone. Even his mother too. They called, pleaded, and asked for another chance, and eventually, I gave them one. Everyone advised me not to take him back, but I did.
Now, Jacob is preparing to travel again for his PhD, and somewhere along the line, we became two people carrying too many unspoken wounds.
These days, after everything that has happened, I can honestly say I am satisfied with how things turned out. Maybe I hurt them the same way they hurt me, but for the first time in a very long while, I finally felt seen whilst being blocked too. Ironically, that was all I ever needed.
I wish him well.
And in Cardi B’s voice:
“I’m going to focus on my dreams now.”
But most importantly, I am okay.
—Obasima Akua
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