When my mom was much younger, around sixteen or seventeen, she fell in love with a young teacher who had been posted to their village. He was charming and went around speaking English with whoever he met so they called him Teacher English. The house my mom lived in sold water to the entire village. That became the reason she met Teacher English. She was enchanted by the way he spoke and the fact that he was a teacher. When he later proposed to her, my mom said yes and started spending a lot of time with Teacher English in the dark.
A year later my mom got pregnant. According to her, she was so terrified she wanted the pregnancy aborted before her parents got to know about it. She ran to Teacher English and told him what the issue was. They both agreed they’d travel out of town and have it done secretly but the next day when my mom was ready to sneak out of town with him, she knocked on his door and was told Teacher English travelled. “How is that possible? We were meant to travel together. How could he go without me?”
She was hoping he would come very soon so they leave together. Two days, four days and then a week, and another week came to pass but he didn’t come back until my mom’s parents found out about the pregnancy. Her parents were devastated. My mom had brought shame on the family so they decided to hide her from the eyes of the village. Before the pregnancy would start showing, they sent my mom to Kumasi to go and live with her aunt.
In Kumasi, she was going to the hospital one day when she met a man at the entrance who later helped her get quick services at the hospital. His name was Abednego. He was a lab technician. Abednego became a friend. Anytime my mom went to the hospital, she looked for him until the day her water broke. She was carried to the hospital in the evening but the delivery didn’t happen quickly because she was struggling. She sent one of the nurses to tell Abednego about her delivery and within a twinkling of an eye Abednego was by her side, urging her on, stroking her hair and telling her everything would be alright.
My mom said, “He joined the nurses to take care of me until late at night when I finally delivered.”
When one of the nurses asked my mom where her husband was. Abednego raised his hand and said, “I’m here. I’m the husband.” The nurse looked at him. She didn’t believe him because she knew him. The nurse turned to my mom and asked, “Is it true?” My mom nodded and the nurse placed the baby in Abednego’s arms. That baby was me. Days later when my mom was discharged, she left the hospital with Abednego who a year later became her husband.
Each time my mom got to that part of the story where she married Abednego, she took a long pause and said, “I married him in my heart even before he told me about his intention to be my husband.”
Teacher English vanished from the surface of the earth but a new tree was planted where he vanished. Abednego became my father. He named me after his mom and claimed me as his own daughter. My mom warned, “Be careful you don’t end up like me. Don’t have a child until you’re married. I was lucky. You might not be.”
My first boyfriend was Ernest. He lacked all the qualities of a prince but I loved him with all my heart, a heart he broke many times until I thought I had run out of hearts. He lied to me, cheated on me, stole my money, borrowed money from me and didn’t pay but each time he offended me and I called the relationship off, he found his way back into my arms with old promises of turning over a new leaf. He ran out of leaves to turn but he was my pet devil and I was mad enough to stick with him until he got me pregnant.
Recently, someone said first love comes to meet us at a point where we were foolish but by the time it leaves, it leaves us wise and alert because first love takes us through the gutters in the name of love. I believed that person because it was exactly what I went through. Ernest got me pregnant and denied the pregnancy. I remember very well when I went to his house with my dad, Abednego. I said in my head, “This guy has disappointed me over and over again, I hope today isn’t one of the days he disappoints me.”
Abednego: “My daughter came home with a pregnancy. She says you’re responsible.”
Ernest: “Me? How can I be responsible? She’s just a friend.”
They both turned to look at me. Ernest said, “Why don’t you tell your father the truth? Why are you bringing another man’s child to me? You want to destroy my future?”
I cried. I didn’t say another word until my dad angrily took off and left me there. I was twenty-one years and seven days old. I was older but I’d become who my mom didn’t want me to become.
When the pregnancy was a little over three months old, I begged my mom to send me away to my aunt in Accra. My dad said no. He screamed at me, “Why are you running from your shame? You’ll be here. All your mates will see you and you’ll see them too. You’ll see them do great things with their lives while you carry a baby behind your back.”
Eventually, they agreed to send me to Accra to go and live with my mom’s elder sister. She was a nurse. On my first day at antenatal, she held my hand to the hospital and left me in the care of the nurses. One nurse, a guy took my details. He asked, “Married or single?” I responded, “I’m not married but I’m not single.” He ticked single and said, “It’s either you’re married or you’re not. There’s nothing in between.”
His name was Charles. He became my friend that day. Anytime I went to the hospital, he was there for me.
On the day of delivery, he wasn’t on duty. He came to the next morning to see me a baby next to me. My aunt was there. She asked, “Where were you last night when your wife was struggling and screaming down here.” She was talking to Charles. He didn’t answer. He came straight to look at the baby. He said, “That’s truly my daughter. Don’t you see she resembles me?” My aunt cheekily answered, “Which part of her body resembles you? Her toes or her elbow?”
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The two of them looked like they’d had a conversation I wasn’t invited to. When I was leaving the hospital, it was Charles who helped carry my things. Our relationship should have ended when I left the hospital but no. Charles came home every day, either after work or before work. When my child was barely three months old he asked me, “You said you weren’t single but I’m yet to see your husband here. Is he traveled abroad or something?”
I told him the truth. “He didn’t accept the pregnancy. I’m alone.” He answered, “Look at a beautiful baby. His loss.”
My baby was four years old when Charles and I got married. I gave him tough times. I was still hoping Ernest would change his mind and come back for me. I kept pushing Charles away until he told me, “I’m not going anywhere until you say yes to me.” Somewhere along the line, the fog of first love and its folly left my system and I began to see what true love should be. When I thought of true love, it was Charles I saw.
We’ve been married for nine years. Unfortunately, my daughter couldn’t bear his name as I bore my stepdad’s name. Ernest came to his senses at some point and came to claim what was his. It didn’t change anything. The only dad my daughter knows is Charles and for a very long time, she has never referred to Ernest as dad. She calls him Ernest.
Did Marriages Last Longer In The Past Than Today?
My mom didn’t want me to be like her but the universe in a twisted symphony made it possible for me to have a déjà vu of my mom’s story. We both didn’t start well, but here we are, writing a beautiful love story no one thought possible.
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—Bridget
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Praise God 👏
Beautiful