I am currently pregnant for Mahmood, which is very funny because I am a barren woman. My husband divorced me after years of marriage without a child, saying he couldn’t do it anymore. He wanted a child to inherit the life he was trying so hard to build.

I left his house with the understanding that I was a barren woman. No man wants a barren woman. I shook my head, saying all these things to myself, and walked away.

I met a man along the way. That man is responsible for my pregnancy. He is a very reputable person who is well respected in his community. When he proposed to me in the early days of July 2024, I was skeptical about the relationship. I felt I was too “low class” for someone like him. I remember ghosting him from January 2024 until I unblocked him in July after I received a surprise gift he had sent to me through someone else. I thanked him and continued with my life.

Then I started having weird dreams about him, and whenever I did, he would text me the following morning to check up on me. He had been consistent in showing me care and attention for over six months, so I finally gave in. In the early days of January last year, I returned the gesture and bought him gifts. He celebrated his birthday in December, so it worked out well for me. Our love journey kicked off from there.

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I fell pregnant exactly eight months after we started dating. I had never been pregnant before, so I couldn’t even decipher what was happening. I was going to buy a malaria test kit when the pharmacist decided to add a pregnancy test kit to it. I laughed to myself. “Me? A barren woman? What do I need this for?” But how do you tell a stranger your grief story? I didn’t. It didn’t even matter because a few minutes later, I was told I was pregnant.

The day I told him about it was the day I knew that I had been woefully scammed. This man has a wife. I knew I was dating a man who had been married before, not a man who has another wife. Because he is a practicing Muslim and Islam allows a man to have up to four wives, he simply threw the confession at me as though it was nothing.

He and his wife have been trying to conceive for some time now. They have gone through two failed IVF attempts and were about to go for a third.

He said he was happy, happy that I was giving him what he and his wife had been suffering to have, but that it would be selfish of him to have it with me. So, according to him, I would carry the child to term, but immediately after I delivered, I should hand the baby over to him and his wife. He said he would pick the baby up from the hospital and take the child home so that he and his wife could raise the baby as their own.

I called his bluff when he first said it. The second time, the third time, and many times after that, he sent messages or came over to prove how serious he was, and every time, I shooed him away. He has even given me his final warning. I either agree to what he wants or prepare to take care of the child all by myself. He wasn’t joking about it. He meant every single word he said.

We connected because I thought we had the same story. According to him, he had a child with his first wife, and no other child came afterward. For 14 years, they tried and tried until they eventually got divorced. That was the story he sold me until his recent confession.

I am not giving in to his demands. That much I am certain of with every fibre of my being. I have prayed to Allah for so long for a child, a child to suckle my breasts and lay tiny buttocks on my lap, a child I can compose lullabies for and sing to sleep. Now that my prayer has been answered, even though it has come wrapped in terrible circumstances, I am holding on to this blessing with everything I have.

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I am not doing much at the moment to earn a living, but I am grateful that I get to eat every blessed day and can still buy supplements for my growing child. It’s a hard journey, I must admit, but nothing in me is pushing me to terminate this pregnancy or giving him my child.

I have learned a very difficult lesson. I was celibate for two good years after my divorce, completely swearing men off. Just when I finally let my guard down for this man, this is the painful fruit I am about to endure for most of my life.

I was pregnant when I first sent this story. Today, I have safely put the baby to bed.

I am back at my mother’s house, raising my child on my own. True to his word, nothing has changed on his end. His position remains exactly the same. Since I refused to hand my baby over to him and his wife, he has completely walked away from us. He insists that if I won’t give them the child, then I should be prepared to take full responsibility.

So that is what I am doing

—Zara

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