I was ten. I was just a child. Enjoying my pleasant and carefree childhood. As far as I was concerned, everyone with a sweet smile was good. Everyone including Uncle Yaw, a family friend. He had the sweetest smile and the most soothing voice. I was raised to be an obedient child and he liked that about me. “You are such a good child,” he would say as he would send me to run errands for him. I remember how good my mother was to him. She never left him out of family meals. Even when he wasn’t at home, my mum would still serve his food and pack it for him. He was family. How could I not think of him as safe?

One day this safe and good man sent me on an errand. I happily went. And when I returned he wore his sweet smile and asked me to bring the things to his room. I did. “You are such a good girl,” he said in his soothing voice, as his hands hovered over sacred places on my body. “My mother said nobody should touch me like that,” I told him as I attempted to free myself from his grip. He smiled again and tightened his hold on me. The look in his eyes told me he was going to hurt me. I cried and begged him to let me go but he was deaf to my voice. I fought him, but I was only ten while he was in his thirties. How could I have matched his strength?

When he finished breaching the gate of my innocence, he warned me; “If you tell anyone about this, you will die. You will not see your mummy and daddy anymore. Do you want that to happen?” I shook my head amidst tears. “Then wipe your tears and keep your mouth shut.” I did. I tried to act as if everything was okay, but a grown man had just invaded my body. Nothing was okay. The joy of my childhood died that day.

Fortunately for me, one of my neighbors saw me walking with my legs apart. I was just trying to ease the pain between my legs but it was a struggle. By the time I got home, everyone knew. My mother pleaded with me to tell her what happened but I was scared I would die so I clamped my mouth shut. She had to employ all the maternal strategies in the books before I narrated what happened.

“You stupid stupid child,” my mother said as she hit me, “Didn’t we warn you never to enter a man’s room?” I was beaten, called names, and insulted because I brought it on myself. My dad filed a complaint at the police station and Uncle Yaw was made to face to face the law.

As I got older, I had a lot of boys and men showing interest in me. However, I could never let my guard down around a man to like them back. So I decided never to get involved with a man. I wish I could say that I found comfort in my singlehood, but I did not. I rather became depressed because I kept reliving that horrible experience. It made me feel broken and dirty. I wanted to live a happy and normal life but it was hard.

I was practically a hermit until Kofi came along. There was this aura around him that drew me close to him. He looked calm, had a great sense of humor, and was very caring. He was like a breath of fresh air. My first evening date was with him and I wished it had never ended. He didn’t try anything inappropriate. And so I fell. I fell for him like the way leaves fall during the dry season.

He’s asked me to be his girlfriend. I was so scared I said no at first. But he was relentless. He kept proposing to me until I eventually said yes. I told him about my traumatic childhood and he embraced me all the same. He never judged me or made me feel I deserved it. He was my safe space. Being with him made me feel whole.

At the time we started dating, he was making preparations to travel outside Ghana. He had to do a lot of things in a short time, but he made time for me. A few days before his departure, I visited him. This time around, I felt very comfortable in a man’s room. My first kiss was with him. The kiss was good but I started getting flashbacks so I made him stop. He knelt and apologized for triggering my trauma. “I am so sorry. I promise not to touch you again until you are ready.” He is such a good man, isn’t he?

Despite the distance between us, we were close. He was always available to talk so we never had communication problems. I was so happy that I told my mother about him.

It got to a point where my boss started showing interest in me. I turned him down as politely as possible but he wasn’t pleased. So he found a way to fire me. I wanted my job but I wasn’t willing to trade my body for it. Besides, why would I sleep with someone I don’t love when I hadn’t slept with Kofi? When I told him about my boss, he felt sorry for me. He even sent me job vacancies and encouraged me to apply for as many as possible.

He returned to Ghana a few weeks ago. I was so happy to see him that I finally gave him the green light for us to have shuperu. He was patient and gentle with me but I was dry. This made the whole experience so painful that I cried. I thought the worst part of it ended when the shuperu was over but no.

I fell ill two weeks later. I went to the hospital and it was confirmed that I am pregnant. I took the post-pill after my time with Kofi but it failed me. I should have been worried but I wasn’t. After all, I have a man who loves me and I am in my late twenties. Also, I love children. I enjoy taking care of my nieces and nephews so I know I will be a good mother. This made me happy I was pregnant.

I broke the news to Kofi and his reaction was the opposite of what I expected. He was indifferent at first. Then he asked what I wanted to do. “I am going to keep the baby,” I announced. He sighed and told me he wasn’t ready to be a father yet. “There is so much on my mind right now. Besides, our relationship is too young for us to have a child.” We had dated for a year and a few months. How is that young? I tried to reason with him but he wouldn’t budge.

The loving and caring Kofi I knew turned into a beast right before my eyes. He refused to pick up my calls but he went about posting a particular lady’s picture with sweet captions on his WhatsApp. Some of the videos I saw of them were so graphic that I almost fainted.

To him, I didn’t exist. I felt alone in this world. I had no form of support from him. As difficult as it was, I decided not to call him. I used the little savings I had to go to the hospital for all the tests a pregnant woman has to do. I thought I was on track but I started spotting. It was on and off. Then I started feeling a sharp pain in my abdomen. That was when I started calling and texting Kofi. This guy completely ignored me.

The way things were going, I didn’t have a choice but to get rid of the pregnancy. It was the hardest decision I ever made, considering how I had already started bonding with the life inside me. The day I was supposed to go to the hospital, I texted Kofi and asked him to go with me. He responded, “I have a lot of things to do before I leave the country again. So I can’t go with you, but I am with you in spirit.” I couldn’t believe that he would leave me to go through something like this alone.

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On my way to the hospital, I saw him with that very lady in town. I didn’t call him. I even walked past them but he didn’t see me. He was with me in spirit but his flesh was with someone else. I got to the hospital and had the procedure. He didn’t even pitch in a pesewa to help pay for the expenses. I did the most difficult thing I could ever do and it tore me apart.

Today, I don’t know where Kofi is. He never called to check up on me so I left him alone. I used to cry every night before I sleep but I no longer do that. I no longer feel sorry for myself when people who knew about us ask about him. I have forgiven myself for my sins. I pray wholeheartedly and I know God has forgiven me too.

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I had decided to make peace with my childhood and put my trauma behind me, only to be dealt with another traumatic experience. I am so done with men and anything to do with love. I now believe that any man who smiles at me sweetly and tells me, “I love you,” hates me and wants to destroy my life.

I’m healing. The only pain I feel now is my unemployment. As for Kofi, I don’t feel hurt by him anymore. He is in the past now. I am just focused on rebuilding my life from the ashes. I do hope that if love finds me again, he will be kinder to me. 

—Morgana

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