A while back, I lived in a hostel that had a general kitchen for everyone to use. One day, I was making assorted fried rice with green sauce when a guy passed by. A few minutes later, he passed again, but this time he stopped to ask for my name.

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“My name is Claudia,” I told him.

“Nice to meet you, Claudia. I just want to say that your food smells amazing.” He then asked for my number.

That evening, he called to properly introduce himself. His name is John. When I asked why I had never seen him in the kitchen, he explained that he didn’t come to school with any utensils, fridge, or gas burner. Besides, he didn’t even know how to cook.

“I buy food in the morning, afternoon, and evening.”

Out of kindness, I offered to share my meals with him and help him cook whenever I could.

Not long after, he called me asking, “What and what do I need to buy if I want to make spaghetti stir-fry?” I listed them, no questions asked.

Less than an hour later, there was a knock on my door—it was John. He had gone to buy everything I listed. “I have everything I need but I don’t know how to cook. Please do it for me.”

Maybe all my troubles wouldn’t have begun if I had simply said no. Unfortunately, I said yes. I thought there was no harm in helping out a neighbour. From that moment, he would call to ask if I had stew in my fridge. If I said yes, he would buy cooked rice and I’d give him my stew with meat or fish. One time, I made fufu with tilapia light soup with a friend and served him a portion.

I was just being neighbourly but John had other intentions. The day he invited me to his room was when he told me he used to live in the States. Before I could ask why he moved to Ghana he said, “I want to marry you and take you there.”

I laughed it off while thinking, “Do you know the plans I have for myself, my child, and my future before you’re here talking to me about marriage?” Although I was single, I had a child and a baby daddy. He didn’t know this before proposing to me. I turned him down immediately. Honestly, I wasn’t attracted to him at all. I hadn’t even noticed him that way.

After that situation, we sat in our hostel’s corridor to chat one evening. I asked why he always wore a cap, and he said it was to hide a scar from an accident years ago. When I asked if the accident had any other effect on him, he said, “Not at all.”

He completed his course in the latter part of 2023 and left the hostel. I don’t like staying friends with men who have expressed romantic interest in me. So when he moved, I blocked him everywhere.

In January 2024, the hostel security called to say John was at the gate looking for me. I was unpleasantly surprised. I went down and asked what he wanted. He claimed he was just passing by and wanted to say hi. I found that strange. Who travels all the way from Accra to the Central Region just to say hi?

The next day, he came again. That’s how it began. Day after day, he showed up at the hostel to see me. Even when the security told him I wasn’t around, he’d sit outside all day waiting for me. He could wait from morning till evening just to see my face. I started wondering if he was truly in love or if it was an obsession.

By December, he had succeeded in wearing me down. I started softening toward him. It made it easy for him to persuade me to visit him in Accra. That day he talked about the love he had nurtured in his heart for me. He even knelt, and was close to tears as he begged me to give him a chance. It worked. I said yes to his proposal on condition that he’d never visit me at the hostel again. He agreed.

As the relationship progressed, he told me he had searched everywhere for a job but couldn’t find one. His parents, who live in the States were the ones sending him money for upkeep. Did I mention that he was in his early forties then?

In May of this year, I met his parents when they came to Ghana. I spent the whole day at their house and bonded with his two sisters and his parents too. Before I left, his mum called me aside and asked if I had noticed anything strange about John. I told her that I had noticed a few odd behaviours but my main concern was his unemployment.

“If he is financially independent, we can manage the rest.”

She smiled and said, “You don’t have to worry about money. We can give you both a piece of land and even build a school on it for you to run as a couple.”

After they returned abroad later that month, I realised I had missed my period. At first, I didn’t take it seriously. In June, when I began feeling unwell, I went to the hospital and did both blood and urine tests, but nothing showed. The doctor said it was amenorrhea, so I relaxed.

By August, my tummy was getting bigger and harder, yet I had no typical pregnancy symptoms. I texted him on WhatsApp, telling him I could be pregnant and that I would need money to remove it. I wasn’t ready for another child. He refused, “I want you to have the baby.”

Before I knew it, he had already informed his parents that I was pregnant, and they were all excited. They called to assure me they would take care of me and the baby until their son found a job. I thought to myself, “How can these people take care of their son, me, and a baby?”

In the midst of their excitement, I noticed that John was acting strange. He was saying odd things and behaving unusually. When I mentioned it to his parents, his father immediately apologised on his behalf.

He explained that the scar on his son’s head was from an old accident that had caused a slight mental issue. The condition comes and goes, and he needs to stay calm to avoid a relapse. However, he probably felt pressured by the pregnancy news and got triggered.

That was when it all clicked. So all his odd behaviours were due to mental illness? I couldn’t believe his parents and sisters hid his condition from me. I felt deceived by all of them.

After the call, his parents sent me GH₵2,000 to take care of myself and the unborn child. But I kept wondering, how would I explain this pregnancy to my parents when I go home in September? How do I even tell my baby daddy that I got knocked up by a man with a mental illness?

His family said they were ready to come and marry me once I got home. But this was a man who couldn’t work, whose parents paid rent for his apartment and sent him money for upkeep. They are in their seventies; what happens when they’re gone? Besides, John could get triggered one day and hurt me and my child. I just couldn’t do it. So I used the money they sent me to terminate the pregnancy.

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Just this past Sunday, I messaged his parents, begging them to warn their son to stop calling and sending me small amounts of money—sometimes GH₵30, GH₵100, GH₵150, or GH₵300. I told them I want no contact with someone battling a mental condition.

His sisters responded to my message by insulting me for getting rid of the pregnancy. One of them, who’s studying law, even threatened to take me to court. She says abortion is illegal in Ghana.

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Clearly, they were just trying to find someone to “package” their son for. I thank God for the wisdom to terminate the pregnancy and block all of them. It all started with kindness. I only helped him with food, never expected this. I’ve learned my lesson though.

By the way, I’ve left that hostel where we first met. I don’t think he’ll ever find me again. And for that, I’m grateful.

—Claudia

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