Just this past Christmas, my six-year-old son came to me and asked; “Mama, Joojo and Maame Ama said their mummy and daddy bought them beautiful clothes for Christmas. Where is my own?” I shook my head and almost cried, “It’s okay if your friends have new clothes. I couldn’t buy you some this year so you will have to wear your old ones like that. But I promise you that next year you will get your new clothes.” He nodded and asked, “Is it because daddy is not here? Where is he? Why doesn’t he visit us like the way King’s daddy visits them?” I couldn’t answer him so I asked him to go and play, and he did. That’s one of the blessings in my life right now. I am forever thankful to God that he gave me a son who is understanding. I don’t know what I would have done if he was one of those kids who throw tantrums when they don’t get their way.

I am sure you might also be wondering where his father is. Where do I even begin? I guess I should start from when I started dating Kwesi, a young pastor at a fellowship I was attending. He promised me heaven on earth. He promised me eternal love. He promised me an endless flow of happiness. In fact, think of anything pleasant, he promised to give it all to me. I was so young back then but I actually believed him. I was a lost sheep whose shepherd had promised her green pastures and still waters, how could I turn my back on that? How could I not say yes to happiness? I swallowed everything he fed me until I became full. When I say I became full, I mean I got pregnant. This happened two years after I joined the fellowship.

The day I told him about it was the day I knew that my shepherd was actually a wolf. This man told me, “Surely, you are not about to tell me that the child is mine because it isn’t. I was careful. So go and give the baby to whoever was careless enough to leave his seed inside you.” To say that I was shocked is the century’s understatement. “How can you tell me that? You are the only one I’ve been with.” I tried to reason with him. But he wouldn’t budge. So I spoke to my family, and they went to see his family. It was then that Kwesi accepted responsibility for the pregnancy. Even with that, it was only with his mouth. Everything else he did after that showed that he didn’t accept that the child was his.

READ MORE: Every Marriage Has Some Problems. Mine Is About Fish Head

He wouldn’t wake up and check up on me. It didn’t matter to him how the pregnancy was treating me, or what I ate. When I asked him for money to attend the antenatal clinic, he would tell me he didn’t have money. Once in a while, he gave me GHC15 or GHC20. I spoke to him several times to do better but he told me that was the best he could do. When I reported him to his mother she told me, “Appreciate what my son is doing for you and stop being ungrateful. Some people don’t even get anything at all.”

I am thankful that my family supported me in all of this. I am sure I wouldn’t have survived without them. When I was in my eighth month of pregnancy, the midwives advised that someone comes along with me to the antenatal clinics. I told Kwesi about it and he told me he didn’t have time. He said he had to go and pray for some people. It was my father who went with me for the rest of my visits till I had the baby. Even when I was in labour, my parents were the only ones who were present for me. There was no sign of Kwesi and his family.

What Would You Do If You Caught Me Cheating On You?–Beads Media

After I had the baby, my dad was still the person who supported me financially and was my emotional support system. I offer home tuition services to the kids in my neighbourhood but I don’t earn much from it. So my dad’s support kept me afloat. But unfortunately, he passed away in September last year and things have been extremely difficult since then. That’s why I couldn’t get my son new clothes for Christmas. It’s a hustle to survive currently. The last time I heard from Kwesi was eight months ago. Just the other day, my son and I had to sleep on empty stomachs because I didn’t have enough money to sustain us after I paid his school fees. My mother who goes to sell at the market and brings home food or some money for food these days complains about low sales.

I am sharing this story here because Kwesi is on this platform. He ignores me and shirks his responsibilities but comes to this page to read people’s stories and comment on them.  Kwesi, you call yourself a Christian, a pastor even. If you believe what you are doing to your son is good, then continue. I leave you to God. That’s all I can say.

–Tabitha

Do you have any relationship experience to share? Email it to [email protected]

NOTE: NO PART OF THIS CONTENT CAN BE REPUBLISHED OR REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT THE EXPLICIT CONSENT OF THE EDITORS OF THIS BLOG

#SB