Two months before my wedding, I met a girl I fell in love with. We were friends for a few days but later, emotions got in the way. Her actions and inactions pointed to the fact that she was equally in love with me. We were alone in her house when she leaned toward me. I pulled away. I was truthful to her. I didn’t want to keep things secret so later she would find out and get shocked. I told her, “I’m in a committed relationship that’s leading to marriage. We are getting married in the next two months. As we speak now, we’ve been going for counseling for the past month. Anything would get complicated when I get involved with you.”

She still pushed for it and I gave in. She said she didn’t care about my relationship. “As far as you feel the same way about me, nothing else matters,” she said. So that day we had shuperu. A couple of days later, she invited me to her place again and it happened. A week before my wedding, she called, “Obed, the signs are dangerous. I’ve missed my period. It should have come three days ago but as we speak now it’s not yet in.” I screamed, “And you’re still sitting there waiting? Don’t you know how to check for these things? I thought you told me you were safe that day?” She answered, “Yes I was safe but these things happen. We get it wrong sometimes.”

The following day she texted me, “Yes it’s in. I’m pregnant.” She sent a photo of the test strip to me. I told her, “We shouldn’t be talking about this in text messages. Kindly wait, I will give you a call when I’m less busy but think of what we are going to do next before I call you.” I was with my fiancée then. She walked across the room innocently while I was burning on the inside. To be blameless is bliss we usually take for granted. My fiancée could laugh heartily but all I could give in return was just a fake smile. I was in turmoil. A week before my wedding and my girlfriend was pregnant.

I found a space and called her; “So tell me, what next?” She answered, “What do you mean by what next? What happens when a woman gets pregnant? I’ll give birth. That’s what next.” I spoke almost in whispers though I was alone, “Dear, you know you can’t give birth. My wedding is in a few days. We can’t marry. You can’t be a second wife too. You’re too pretty for a man to meet you as born one. It would be hard to marry with a child so please think about it and let’s get rid of it.” She responded calmly, “Just let me worry about those things. Your wedding is nigh. I won’t call to disturb you. Get married. We can talk later.”

I called every day trying to convince this girl to get rid of it but she maintained her stand. I went to her house and cried to her, I was virtually on my knee; “Just tell me what you want and I will do it for you. Anything at all. If I have to cut my head off to get whatever you need, I’ll do it.” She said, “I love you. I love your baby. I’m keeping it.”

I stormed out of her place determined not to ever see her again. She sent me a message while on my way going, “Don’t behave like getting a woman pregnant is a murder case, no. It’s not even illegal and you’re not the only man to have a child outside marriage. I’m not a small girl. I can keep this a secret and no one will know so why worry?”

I never spoke to her again until after the wedding. She texted often but I ignored her. I was worried. I went into marriage with huge deceit and it was haunting me. True to her words, she kept it a secret. When she gave birth, I went to visit her. I met her mother and she introduced me to her as the father of the child.

Her mother was calm with me because she already knew the story. She had fallen in love with her grandson so she didn’t have time to judge me. She told her junior brother too. Those were the only two people she trusted to talk to about everything. Once in a while, I will give her money. Once in a while, I would visit her. She was in a different town so it made things easier. As the boy was growing up, he began looking like me.

The boy was a year old when my wife got pregnant. She also gave birth to a boy. I didn’t have enough money to spread across so I stopped sending her money. It didn’t bother her. She even asked me not to worry. “Send me money when you can. I’m working. I can do it on my own.” I paid his school fees sometimes, I was involved somehow.

The boy was two years old and was celebrating his birthday. It fell on a weekend so she insisted that I should be there. I went and we celebrated the boy’s birthday in a way that made him happy and also made the mother happy. After the birthday celebration, I was with her alone when emotions got in the way. Anyone at all could walk into the room so it was very snappy. We didn’t even get the time to take off our clothes. She said, “I miss you.” I answered, “This is so wrong but hey, such is life.”

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A month later she called. “I’m pregnant.” I screamed, “No you’re not pregnant. Why are you doing this to me?” We argued. We fought about it; “You’ll get rid of it.” “I won’t get rid of anything.” “I say you will.” “Would you put me down and do it yourself?”

Nine months later, I had another child with her.

The guilt was killing me. I knew someday my wife would know about it and my life would be over. She’ll divorce me and I would lose everything I’d built with her. The thought made me sick so one day I went to her and confessed; “I have a child with someone else.” She said, “You mean you cheated? When? How old is the child?” I answered, “The first is four years old. The second is…” Bam! A slap landed across my face. I fell on my knee. Wham! I started seeing rainbows. She screamed, “Two kids outside a marriage this young?”

Two months later, we were in court following divorce proceedings. Our marriage was over even before I could regain my composure from the slaps. The other lady thought I was going to marry her. She asked me, “Now what? Don’t you think our kids would be happy to find us together?” I answered, “They’ve been happy without me in their lives and so shall it remain.” She got angry and started getting at me. When I couldn’t send her money for the upkeep of the kids, she sent me to court. Currently, half of my salary goes to her. My ex-wife gets the rest. I live with my parents.

I’m too broke to even afford the basic things in life. That’s how I destroyed my life with my own hands. Life is hard but I still have it. I go to work for them. I earn for them. I’m living for them. I’m thirty-five years old but I look older than my father. My mistake lives after me and dictates every direction of my life. I deserve everything I’m going through so I carry them with all my strength. Maybe one day everything would be alright. Maybe they would never be alright. Life still goes on.

—Obed

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