I met David when I went to the Upper West Region to interview for a slot in a nursing and midwifery school. He lived in the house I slept in. I knew from the way he talked to me that he liked me but my mind was too distracted to focus on romantic affairs. It was easier to appreciate his kindness toward me. When this guy saw that I was worried about the outcome of the interview, he kept encouraging me not to lose hope. He assured me, “You will get in, don’t worry about it. I know the people on the interview panel so I will put in a word for you.” I wasn’t sure if I should believe him but I took the comfort.

The next morning, he took me to the station to board a bus home. It was then he took my number and promised to call me. Truly, he called me when I got home, and we spoke at length. Throughout our conversation and every time he called me, he told me not to worry and that I should just pray about the admission, I would get it.

That same year when I received my admission letter, I called to tell him about it. He was happy for me. After the excitement passed, he asked when I would report to school and how he could help. I liked that about him. I was sure I would be fine so I only thanked him for the thought. However, by the time I made the trip from Kumasi to school, it was late. I was hungry too. Despite the time, I called David and asked if he could bring me food. Within a matter of minutes, he was there with food. I was so thankful to him.

Barely a week after my arrival, David proposed love to me. Well, I already saw it coming. He was a nice guy physically; tall and fair (almost white like a half-caste). Apart from his physical appearance, he was kind too. I had experienced it myself. Based on these qualities, I accepted his proposal and agreed to be his girlfriend.

I am a Muslim while he is a Catholic, but it didn’t matter to either of us. We were in love. Our relationship was one to be envied. We lived in a world where only the two of us existed and it worked for us.

Nonetheless, at some point we were bound to face the reality of our situation. And it happened the very first time he took me home. His brother’s wife was good to me. We were even becoming friends, I was sure of it. I felt at home until she asked my name and I said Fati. She closed off instantly and became cold toward me until I finally left. I noticed that David’s mood changed when his sister-in-law changed but I didn’t say anything.

The next time it happened was with his father’s friend. We were having a talk in front of my hostel when the man came to pass by. He greeted the man and introduced me as his girlfriend. The moment the man heard my name he said, “Fati, a Muslim?” I nodded to say yes. He didn’t even try to be tactful about the situation. He outrightly asked my boyfriend, “David why? You know your family will never agree to such a marriage.”

I saw all this but I didn’t care. I was in love. I was sure our love would defy religion and its discrimination. Why would I let go of a good man who loves me because his family might not accept me? This is a guy who supported me financially. He was a teacher in the town so whenever I was in need, he came to my rescue.

While I was busy believing in the strength of our love, David told me one day, “Fati, I wish you were a Christian. Will you become a Christian for my sake? If you love me, you will do it.” Of all the things he could require of me to prove my love, why did it have to be my religion? I didn’t want to prolong that kind of talk so I answered, “This is a big ask. Let me think about it.” That filled him with hope. I saw it in his eyes. That was when I understood how badly his family’s talk affected him.

When I was alone, I thought about it. I told myself that I couldn’t be a Christian because of a man. This is not even out of conviction so how would I start it? After all the money my parents spent on my education, was I supposed to go home and tell them I was no longer a Muslim because I found love in school? No, it wouldn’t work. My family might disown me or ask me to quit school and return home.

The next time I met David, he had another thing to say. “I want to introduce you to my parents but I don’t want them to know your religion. Instead of introducing you to them as Fati, I want to call you Sarah in their presence. Is that okay?” He asked. Of course, it wasn’t okay. How long would we have kept the deception going? Once again I answered, “David, it’s not as easy as it seems. I am still thinking about it.” He didn’t seem too pleased but it was the right thing to do for both of us.

One day I was walking with my roommate in town when he saw us. He called us to come to where he was. I found out that day that he knew my roommate from church. Right in front of me, he told her he would marry me if only I would join their church. Then he asked Helen to bring me along to church every Sunday. “Force her to come. If you succeed I will give you a reward.” I thought they were both joking so I just laughed.

The next Sunday, Helen woke me up to prepare for church. That was when I knew that they were serious. I told her to go and that I would join them after I was done getting ready. I didn’t go. When she came back she was angry. She said they waited for me. I apologized and told her something came up but I would make it next week. I could have been straight with David and let him know I wouldn’t convert but I was not ready to lose him. That was why I kept dragging my feet when it came to the subject.

As the weeks passed, Helen got so angry with me that she stopped speaking to me. All because I never joined them at church. She wasn’t the only one who severed ties with me. David too. He did it one day after we had one of the most mind-blowing intimate moments. We were all cuddled up in bed when he took out the knife and plunged it into my chest.

Well, I am being metaphorical, but that was how it felt when he told me; “Fati, I can’t keep doing this when I see no end in sight. I feel like you are taking me for granted that’s why you don’t want to convert.” I tried to assure him of my love but he wouldn’t hear it. “If you love me then swear,” he said as he pointed to a Jesus poster on his wall, “swear by this image that you have accepted Jesus as your personal saviour. If you don’t do it then accept that you are single.”

It was a choice between my faith and my love. The fact that he put me in a position to choose made me believe he was not the one. So I returned to my hostel a single lady. Even after our break up, Helen still refused to speak to me. I wished I could lean on her for comfort but she was not having it. Even when I heard she broke up with her boyfriend and I tried to be there for her, she told me to mind my business. I had to accept that our friendship was over. I was sad about it but I dealt with it until completed school.

After school, I was at home minding my business one day when I received wedding photos from a number. It was David’s wedding pictures. I looked at the photos, smiled, and thought, “He married a very beautiful woman.” I was so happy for him. I sent messages to Helen and asked her to congratulate David for me but I didn’t get a response. Later, I heard David’s wife was also a midwife like me. I was happy for him but felt a tinge of sadness when I thought about what we had and what I lost.

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On Helen’s birthday, I wished her a happy birthday and she responded, “Thanks.” I was hoping that now that we were done with school and David was married to someone else, she would let go of her anger and be my friend again. However, all my attempts at rekindling our friendship were met with coldness. I remember sending her a message when I heard she got married. I congratulated her and prayed for her. She only said, “Thank you.”

I think although it hurt to lose David, losing Helen was more painful for me. I believe that is why I am finding it difficult to let her go. So once in a while, I send her messages. Sometimes she responds but other times she doesn’t.

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I am also married now. I am writing this story from the USA where I live with my husband. He is also a Muslim, which means there was no drama about religion and conversion. He was an American citizen so after the marriage he came for me.

Most of the time when I talk to my schoolmates, they ask me about Helen. I tell them she is fine but honestly, I haven’t heard from her since I got married. I want to reach out and tell her I miss her but I am afraid she would continue to be cold toward me. All I want is to be her friend again but I don’t even know how to go about it. So I think about our good memories and smile when I miss her.

— Fati

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