The news of my pregnancy spread like a harmattan bushfire in my village. What surprised me about all the commotion was the false nature of the news. If anyone was supposed to know I was pregnant, it had to be me. So why was I finding out from other people that I was pregnant?

To the best of my knowledge, I wasn’t. I hadn’t even had shuperu with anyone. I was a teenage girl who had dreams of becoming a nun. Everybody in my life, including my brothers knew that I was headed to the convent.

Because of my dreams, I guarded the treasure between my legs as though my life depended on it. I never sat in the company of boys and men unless I was playing football with them. I avoided being alone in a closed space with boys my age. And I never bothered myself with a boyfriend when my age mates were excited to have boyfriends.

The only person I spent a lot of time with was my grandma at home. On weekends I would go to my aunt’s place and help her around the house till the weekend was over and I had to return to my grandma’s place and prepare for school. My brothers had become important people in life so they were no longer in the village with us.

Before they moved away for work, it was just me and them. Our parents passed when we were all little so it was my brothers who took care of me until better opportunities came knocking on their doors. They left town and left me in the care of our grandma.

One thing that kept me occupied was one of my teachers. He used to assign me and some of my classmates to come to his house and mark exam scripts. In return, he would help us solve some past questions. He was a young and kind man who mentored us. Therefore, as students, we always jumped at the opportunity to work for him.

One Friday after school, he asked me to go to his place and mark some scripts. I offered to call my colleagues who help with the marking but he said no. “The papers I have left are not many so you don’t need any extra hands. You can mark them all on your own,” he said.

We got to his place and he asked me to wash his dishes and clean around the apartment before I start marking the papers. I had to hurry up and go to my aunt’s place for the weekend. But I also couldn’t say no to this teacher. So I drank the bottle of Coca-Cola he gave me as I cleaned his place.

By the time I sat down to mark the papers, I was feeling dizzy. I just wanted to hurry up and leave so I didn’t say anything. The next thing I knew, I was waking up from what seemed to be a long sleep. I didn’t remember where I was or when I fell asleep.

It took a few minutes before it registered that I was in my teacher’s quarters. The sun was still shining like it was when I fell asleep. I asked myself why time hadn’t passed. The strange thing was that I felt extremely tired. I also felt pain in my private part. I went to the washroom to check myself and saw blood stains in my underwear. I assumed I was on my period so I took my leave and went home to take care of myself.

It was when I got home that I realized I had been away from home for two days. I had returned on a Sunday afternoon instead of a Friday afternoon. I had lost two whole days to sleep. My grandma thought I was at my aunt’s place the entire time. I was confused as to what happened in my teacher’s house. However, I feared that saying the truth would land me in trouble so I said nothing.

I didn’t know a lot about my reproductive health at the time. I was still in JHS by then. Although I was older than some of my classmates, I was just as naïve as the youngest person in the class. When I missed my period that very month, I didn’t think much of it. When I missed my period the month after that too, I didn’t think too much about it. It was in the third month when rumors of my pregnancy started spreading that I too heard I was pregnant.

The first time my grandmother came home with the news, I laughed it off. “Mamaa, if I am pregnant then who is the father?” I asked her. I swore to her that I had never been touched by a man. She would have believed me had my body not started giving me away.

My eldest brother was called home. One Sunday after first Mass, he called me. I stood before him like a good little girl while he looked me in the eyes and asked, “We can all tell that you are pregnant. So answer this question truthfully. Who is the father?” I had no idea what he was talking about. I remember how I stood there and touched my stomach before saying, “No, I am not pregnant. How did I get pregnant? I am not married, remember?” It was as if I was speaking to a deaf person. He insisted I was pregnant so I should tell the truth.

He then concluded, “Fine. If you say you are not pregnant I will take you to my workplace tomorrow. If after their tests, it is confirmed that you are pregnant, we will get rid of it so that you can complete your JHS education without any problems.” I cried. I swore. I yelled but he didn’t believe me.

I was confused about all the accusations they were throwing at me but I was also terrified. I asked a friend of mine to explain to me what it meant to terminate a pregnancy. That was when she explained the whole process to me. “I had to do one recently, and it was very painful,” she said. Talking to her only heightened my fears.

At 3:30 AM on Monday morning, I left the house with only a few clothes. I didn’t know anywhere to go but I still left.

How I survived out there and had a healthy baby girl, is by grace. The baby girl I gave birth to will turn sixteen this year. As for me, I am still very young. I’m in my thirties but when I tell people I am twenty-five or twenty-six they believe me. I have raised my daughter as a single mother all these years. She is the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. She is all I’ve got and I adore her so much.

After the humiliation I endured because I couldn’t pinpoint the father of my child, this teacher of mine came to my neighborhood when my daughter was three years old. It was then he confessed what he did to me. He admitted that he drugged the coke he served me that fateful day and took me while I was passed out.

I was angry but I also felt it was too late to make him pay for violating me. After all, I had already endured criticism, embarrassment, and judgment from people. Do you know how bad I looked when I couldn’t point out the father of the child I was carrying? Some people thought I had multiple partners. Meanwhile, it was my teacher. A man I trusted so much that it didn’t cross my mind that he could be the one, despite the fact that I lost two days at his house to sleep. I just didn’t see him in that light.

After his confession, he didn’t try to be a part of my daughter’s life or take on any fatherly role. Honestly, I was even thankful for this. Imagine if such a person had stuck around. Would I have been able to leave him alone with her? Never.

READ ALSO: He’s Using Money To Take The Woman I Love From Me

When she was growing up, I told her her father died before she was born. I am going to stick by this story until I am old and gray.

Now, I am at the age where my people expect me to get married and have more kids. However, I can’t shake off the fear that any man I marry will do to my daughter, what my teacher did to me.

Call Your Ex And Ask Why It Didn’t Work Out Between You Two

I know that it’s too late for me. My dreams and aspirations were cut short when I found myself pregnant without any knowledge of when I conceived. However, it’s not too late for her. She has her whole life ahead of her. And I want her to have a better life than I did. That’s why I am afraid of bringing an abuser into her life.

I am not bitter or anything. I’m just cautious. I’ve been told that I am a nice person. I am fun to be with. I am jovial so you can’t be with me and not be full of laughter. I am beautiful inside – out. I could have a man easily. The only thing stopping me is my fears. Please, how do I overcome these fears?

—Princy

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you can tell us your story.

#SB