I am at war with my own son, Samuel.

He is only three years old, so he is too young to understand what is happening between us, but I know it. If he were old enough to understand, he would probably see how much anger I carry inside me, how easily I roar at him over the smallest mistakes, and how quickly my hands turn against him.

I beat him over the slightest things. Something as simple as him opening the fridge and forgetting to close it can make me so angry that I feel like I have to punish him severely. Even while I am doing it, there is a part of me that knows I am wrong, but when the anger takes over, it becomes difficult to stop myself.

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There are even times when I hate seeing him happy when I am hurting inside. When my anger takes over completely, I don’t want him close to me. I want him far away from my space. I find myself thinking terrible things, like maybe if I starve him of food or take away every little joy he has, the happiness inside him will disappear and perhaps the two of us can be miserable together. At least then, I tell myself, it would feel better somehow.

I know how terrible that sounds. Some mornings ago, while I was bathing him, I noticed the marks left by the cane all over his body. My heart broke; I knew I was the one who had caused those marks. Lately, Samuel has become inquisitive. “Mommy, do you want to beat me? Mommy, will you lock me inside today to cry while you go and roam? Mommy, I didn’t do this. Please don’t beat me.” Yesterday, after I finished bathing him, he looked at me and asked, “Should I kneel down?” He had done absolutely nothing wrong.

That was when I realised just how much fear I had created inside my own child.

I know he no longer trusts me, and that thought hurts me. As shocking as it may sound after everything I have admitted, I love this boy so much. I love him the way every mother loves her child, but something inside me is broken, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Samuel’s father sends us GH¢150 every month. He says that is all he can afford because he is not being paid much, but his attitude has always been that of someone who does not care. He is the kind of person who will never go the extra mile for you, no matter how badly you need him.

Since the day Samuel was born, I have carried most of the responsibility alone. I have tried everything to get his father to do more. I have shouted at him on the phone, gone to his house and made scenes, reported him to friends and family, and begged people to talk to him. He still is the same. So, I am everything to our son.

I want to be the best mother for my son, but everything is falling apart. I wake up every day feeling tired, exhausted, and at my lowest, and instead of giving my son the love and patience he needs, I end up taking my frustration on my son.

Samuel doesn’t know anyone as family apart from me. He doesn’t even know his father. He used to know my siblings, but we left the neighbourhood when he was two years old. He no longer remembers them. For him, I am practically the only family he knows.

I cannot survive losing him. I don’t even want to imagine anything happening to him, and I don’t want my anger to become the reason something terrible happens to the child I love so much.

I want to change.

I have been trying so hard to let go of the pain and anger inside me, but it has not been easy. how I am supposed to forgive myself for not giving Samuel the father he deserves and how I am supposed to become the mother he needs when I am struggling so badly myself.

I know I am hurting him. I know that the way I treat him is affecting him because a three-year-old child should not be constantly asking his mother whether she wants to beat him, and he should certainly not be asking whether he should kneel down when he has done nothing wrong.

I don’t want him to grow up afraid of me. I don’t want him to remember his childhood as a time when he was constantly being punished, shouted at and made to feel that he was never safe around his own mother.

Who Would You Choose, A Rich Man Or A Man Who’s Good In Bed?

I want to heal before I destroy the relationship between us. Has anyone ever been in a situation like this before? How did you overcome it? How did you learn to heal from your own pain and anger while still taking care of your child?

I felt that talking about this with someone might help me more than continuing to stay silent. That is why I decided to share this here.

—Samuel’s mother

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