I was searching for a new place to stay when we met. He was a middle-aged man who offered to help me, a young woman trying to find a house within my budget. At first, he seemed kind and genuinely helpful. Anytime he came across a place that fit my budget, he called me. He asked around on my behalf and even checked up on my own progress and truly went out of his way.

One day, he called again and said, “There is a vacant room in our compound. You can come and see the landlord.” That was exactly how I moved in. We both became tenants, and not long after, we became lovers.

Even though he was older, we connected. He seemed mature, responsible, and like a good elder. So when he told me he liked me, I said yes.

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The first few months felt too good to be true. He cared for me in ways I had never experienced before. I felt safe. I felt chosen. Everything changed after our first major misunderstanding.

It was a simple argument, the kind couples have all the time. You argue, you make up, and you continue promising the world to each other. That night, we both went back to our rooms angry, and I did not think much of it.

But in this house, the walls on our side are very thin. So thin you can hear the clatter of utensils next door, the sound of a pipe being turned off. And that night, that’s how I heard it. Soft moans, coming from his room. Turns out, he had brought someone else in there.

That was how I found out he had brought another woman into his room.

The first time, I overlooked it. Then it happened again. By the third time, it had become normal. After each incident, he would walk to my door with puffy eyes, sweet words, apologies, and gifts for my child.

Logically, dating that kind of man should be peaceful. Dating a man like this should have ended long ago.  But when you are in love, you hold on to the hope that they will change, and that you will not have to leave. Instead, it became the most painful relationship I have ever known. He insulted me constantly, using foul and degrading words. He called me names that stripped me of my dignity.

Each time I got pregnant for him, the same pattern followed. According to him, he was not ready to have a child. He would either send me money to terminate the pregnancy or beat me until I agreed. One time, he beat me so badly that I bled for days.

Earlier this year, he said something that broke me and forced me to question everything I had been doing in that relationship. We were talking in soft tones, looking into each other’s eyes, and I asked, “When are you planning to introduce me to your family? I am growing older. I want to be by your side, to be a family.”

He looked at me and said, calmly, “I cannot marry you. You are just my friend. Besides, you are a single mother. I cannot marry you.”

Marriage Through the Eyes of Millennials and Gen-Z

He had said before that we were just friends, but friends do not do what we did. Friends do not say the things we said to each other. Friends do not go into a room to intentionally try to get pregnant.

I am drained. I am confused. I am deeply hurt.

And I am finally asking myself how I ended up here.

—Nita

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