I met Evans last year when I was attending remedial classes. He proposed to me, but I told him I wasn’t interested. He didn’t stop. He kept coming back, and I kept saying no. At that time, I was nursing a broken heart. So I didn’t even want to have a two-minute conversation with any guy. My mind wasn’t there.

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One Saturday, we had finished general cleaning on campus, and some of my colleagues bought Vodka Mix — the type that comes mixed with Coke. I had never seen it before, so I was curious to taste it. I know myself very well: even the smallest amount of alcohol affects me. That’s why I took only one sip. Unfortunately, it still messed me up.

That was when he came around. He found me in that state, and he took advantage of me.

Immediately I regained sobriety, I told my mother. I also took a post-pill, just in case of anything. It didn’t work. I still got pregnant.

Because I had refused to give Evans my number, I also didn’t have his number. I had to get it through one of his friends. My mother called him but he denied everything.

When we went to the police station. They told us they would handle it as a rape case. They started the process well. We thought it would bring us justice but the whole case just hung in the air and has been sitting there since.

I had to make a decision about the pregnancy. Because of my faith and personal values, getting rid of it was not on the table. This left me with the journey of single motherhood. I knew that raising a child alone wouldn’t be easy, but I promised myself I would do everything in my power to make sure my baby is fine.

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I have stuck to my choice but it hasn’t been easy. I still don’t know Evans’ whereabouts. About three months ago, one of his friends called me and said his name was Livingston. He told me, “I will come with Evans to come and see you. We will pay for damages, and start taking responsibility for your daughter.”

I believed him. Finally, the man who got me pregnant would take responsibility. I was relieved that he would share in the financial burden of childcare.

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The date he promised they would show up came. I waited and waited and waited but nobody came. Evans didn’t pick up my calls. His friend didn’t either. To this day, I haven’t heard from them.

How can I make him do the right thing when he doesn’t pick up my calls? I don’t know where he lives or how to find him. All I have is his number. I want to know what I can do with it.

—Mona

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