When he said he loved me, it was his age that became a barrier for me. He looked ten years older. His age meant he might have been married before because what could a man his age be waiting for? I asked questions. I asked about his age, which he reluctantly mentioned. He was nine years older. I asked if he had a wife. He answered even before he blinked, “Wife? Noooo, I’m not married.”

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I asked if he had been married before, and he told me he was closer to marrying his first-ever girlfriend. He did the knocking when the lady got pregnant, but the marriage didn’t happen. “That means you have a child, right?” I asked. He answered, “Yes.”

I went to my mom, my konkonsa partner and also my best friend. I discussed all the questions and answers with her and asked for her opinion. She told me the age didn’t matter because men became better with age. She asked me to investigate the child aspect to know if the mother of the child wouldn’t be a problem.

I found out the mother and the child were not living in Ghana. My mom gave me a green light, so I gave myself the permission to accept him for who he was.

Just a month after saying yes to him, he asked me, “What’s one thing you’d like me to do for you? Something big that you’ll never forget?”

I told him to buy me anything from his heart. He said, “Nooo, I want you to mention something you love.”

I asked him to buy me a new phone. “How much is a phone that you call big?” he asked. “Mention something. Don’t you need a car?”

I nodded immediately, “Yes, a car will be nice if only you can afford it.”

Before we slept, we went through names of cars. We went online to check. I chose an Elantra. He settled on a Benz. I wasn’t surprised. The two cars I’d seen him drive were both Benzes.

He took me home to meet his mom. His mother was very nice to me, as if she’d known me forever. She asked about my family, and I told her everything. She asked, “Do you have a lot of men in your family?”

I did a quick mental math, calculating the number of uncles I had from both sides of my family and my own siblings. “A lot of men,” I answered. “Even in my nuclear family.” She nodded while she looked at me intently without blinking, as if she was thinking about something beyond the heavens.

This man would have a certain call that would make him walk away to receive it. Every time. He would come back and say sorry to me as if the sorry should resolve all the questions in my head. Again, I brought it to the attention of my mom. She asked, “Why are you telling me when the best person you should tell is him? Ask him questions or do your own search.”

So my Benz was ordered. He showed me the documents. He said it was going to be shipped in a week’s time. And then he asked me if I would be willing to give him a child before marriage.

I was like, how? He said he wanted to be sure I could conceive. I told him we could run a test at the hospital. He said he didn’t want theory but something practical. The hospital can say yes, but it can be different realistically. He promised to perform the knocking rite once I got pregnant and would move me to one of his houses, and I would decide whether I wanted to work or be a housewife.

The promises were too lofty; I started to feel he was hiding something. I started digging. Every night we spent together, I went through his phone. Each night came with one revelation after another. I found out he had promised two other ladies a Benz. He had shown them the same document he showed me.

When I told my mom about it, she asked me to leave the relationship. I said, “Wait, I feel there’s more.” It took me two months to know he lied to me about everything.

He had been married twice, and twice it didn’t work. He had four children with the women he married. All four kids were girls. He wouldn’t marry you under ordinance. He’d do the traditional marriage so it would be easier to divorce you. Aside from those he married, he had two baby mamas. Those baby mamas had a child each for him, and those children were also girls.

He was on a mission to discover that one woman who could give him a male child. So the Benz he ordered wasn’t for me or any of his current girlfriends. The Benz was for the woman who would give him a male child.

When I narrated the story to my mom, she screamed, “Eiii!!! Herh, hurry up and leave before you get pregnant.”

While with him, I told him all the things I’d found out. He went mad! “How dare you go through my phone? Who are you to break into my private life?” He insulted me and my upbringing and even insulted my ancestors. We broke up that day.

Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. I broke down and cried like a baby. I bought pills to get rid of it, but I couldn’t swallow them. I went to the hospital instead, but just before they were about to do it, I ran away. When I told him I was pregnant with his child, he insulted me again and called me a harlot.

I gave birth to a boy. It was my mom who broke the news to him. His entire family came to the hospital to see me. He came with apologies and more promises. I told him the child was his and he could do whatever he wanted with him, but I wasn’t part of the package.

How The Death Of Our Son Nearly Brought Our Marriage To An End

The Benz is here. He has brought the keys to the house he promised. He wants me to marry him. My mom said, “It’s bad how it looks, but don’t make it worse by marrying him. If you think he’s right for you too, I won’t stand in your way, but remember it’s not you he loves. He loves what you’ve done for him—the male child.”

He’s still persuading me to marry him. I keep telling him no. Because of that, I’m still living in my mother’s house while the keys he gave me are on my table. When the child is of age, he can have him while I move on with my life.

—Cee

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