I was a nobody when my girlfriend got pregnant. I didn’t have a job and was living with my parents. When the pregnancy came and she told me, the first question I asked was, “What are we going to do?” I didn’t hear from her again until her father called to interrogate me. He was angry that I could put his daughter through pregnancy and threatened that if I didn’t marry her, he would sack her from home to come and live with me.
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I told my mom and dad about it. They were disappointed, but they asked me the most important question, “Do you want to marry her?” I answered, “Yes, if I had the money and everything was going right for me.” My dad said he was going to help put a small traditional marriage together so I could marry her while I tried to fix my life.
We went to meet my girlfriend’s father for the list, and the kind of list he gave us was so big we all screamed. He said we ought to pay for getting his daughter pregnant before marriage. My dad met him man to man to negotiate. The man said no—that was all he would take. My dad said, “So be it. We don’t have the money now. When we get it, we’ll come back.”
While the pregnancy grew, my girlfriend’s father got agitated and called me and my family all sorts of names, including labeling my dad “Panyin gyeingyein,” meaning a useless elderly person. My dad didn’t react. We waited peacefully until the baby was born.
The day we went to name the child, my girlfriend’s father sacked us from the house. “Who are you coming to name? Who knows you in this family that you’re coming to name a child?”
All through this phase of embarrassment, my girlfriend remained silent and watched her father take us through the dusty road of shame. I called her to put her father to order. I informed her we were doing our best. “One day the stars would align for me, and I will do better than I’m doing.”
She told me her father was in charge and that she couldn’t disobey him. They didn’t allow us to name the baby, but she called to ask me to send money. I sent what I could. It was as and when until it became monthly. There was no specific amount—whatever was in my hand, I gave it to her. Her father wasn’t aware until one day she called to tell me the baby was sick. I went to give her money and also see the child. Her father didn’t allow me to enter the house. He said, “Get her a house if you want to be seeing your son.”
My dad asked me to stop giving her money because of what her father was doing. He was then helping me, but he stopped along the way, and it became very hard to send money her way.
The baby was two years old when I had the opportunity to travel abroad through an uncle who did me a favor. I didn’t tell my baby mama that I was traveling. I think later she heard from gossip that I had traveled abroad. You know abroad and the struggles before you find your feet—it took me over a year before I did.
I called home. I called her, and for the first time in my life, her father was respectful to me. He spoke to me calmly. He said, “Your son has grown to resemble you. You ought to be here to see how well we’ve raised him.” I knew the reason for his calm, but I still respected him.
I started sending them money. I sent clothes when I had the chance. I changed the child’s school and tried as much as I could to make life better for them. I heard my baby mama was getting married. It didn’t stop me from playing my role as a father in my child’s life. I even bought him a phone when he was only six years old so I could talk to him.
When my baby mama got married, I sent my dad and my aunt to them to request for the child. I thought it was going to be a problem for her marriage, but she declined, saying she was capable of taking care of the child and that her husband wouldn’t be a problem. To respect her marriage, I stopped calling her or even my son. Whatever I sent to them, I sent through my father to be given to them.
She had a problem with that and even used the opportunity to call me “konongo kaya,” because in her mind, I wouldn’t marry her and also didn’t want her to marry. She said I was jealous of her marriage that was why I was cutting communication and pretending she and the child didn’t exist. She would send messages to insult me when my dad delayed in sending them money. When my dad sent the money, she would tell me the amount she received and ask if that was the exact amount I sent.
I was sending $200 a month. At that time, the dollar had value, so it was something. She demanded more, telling me the cost of living was high. It wasn’t only money I sent. I sent food and equipment too.
After eight years abroad, I decided to come home. My aim was only one, to come home, do everything right, and take my child with me. It was something I wanted to initiate while abroad, but I wanted to be the one to go and see her and discuss the issue. I came to Ghana, called her, and told her my plans to take the child with me. She was happy until her father got a hint of my plans.
Her father called me and started appealing to me. He said, “Look at the house your child was raised in. It’s not in good shape, but we did our best to raise him under good care. Now that you want to come for him, I would ask you to help put the house in order. I don’t mind if you build us a new one. I have a plot of land ready for that.”
That wasn’t the only request. He said he was retired and it was very hard for him to do anything, so I should get him a taxi to work with. That was not all—since he was instrumental in raising my child, I should compensate him with a respectful amount that was worth his sacrifice.
He thought I had the world in my pocket so he could make any demands. When I told my dad, he said, “Gyama n’adwin nye edwuma? You will build him a castle rather.”
It turned into a family fight. It nearly turned physical when my dad went there to face him, asking him to make those requests in his presence. They traded insults and nearly traded blows. Men with egos will do anything.
All through this chaos, I called my baby mama on the side. I even spoke to her and her husband, and the husband told her it was a good idea, so she should allow it. She understood me that day, but the next day, she said, “I’m waiting for what my dad will tell me.”
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I left Ghana after spending two months. Currently, I send the bare minimum after paying the child’s fees. She called to tell me I’ve sown a seed of discord in her marriage because of what I said to her husband. The husband is also not helping my child in any way. That is what he’s doing to push her to make the child come live with me. She’s still listening to her father, so I told her I will continue to do the bare minimum until she grows sense.
—Alfred
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Is your baby mama’s father not a man like you. If what he is asking from you is doable let him do it. As for your baby mama let her continue being a fool,it will over her one day.
O can only tell you to forget about your child for now but document everything thing that transpired…. He will look for you when he’s grown.
Let your baby mama father keep demanding by the time the child is grown let’s see how he’ll prevent child to meet his father.
That’s a dangerous way to go. You need to bond with your son and instill in him your values through his formative years or else you will have no control over what kind of character he becomes in future. Report the matter to the Social welfare will or family tribunal for joint custody at the minimum. Don’t stay out of his life ever.
There was a time in my life when I felt completely lost in my own relationship. From the outside, everything looked fine—two people who had built something meaningful over time. But on the inside, I was dealing with confusion, doubt, and a growing sense that something just wasn’t right.
I tried to ignore it at first.
Like many people, I told myself I was overthinking. I made excuses for the sudden changes in behavior—the late-night phone use, the emotional distance, the way conversations started to feel forced. I kept hoping things would go back to how they used to be.
But they didn’t.
Instead, the feeling grew stronger. It wasn’t just suspicion—it was emotional exhaustion. I found myself constantly thinking, constantly questioning, constantly trying to connect dots that never fully made sense. It got to a point where I knew I couldn’t continue like that. I needed clarity—not assumptions, not guesses, but something real.
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With the guidance I received, I began to notice things I had previously overlooked. Not just actions, but behaviors, energy, and consistency. I started asking the right questions, not in an aggressive way, but in a calm and confident manner.
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It wasn’t a dramatic moment. It didn’t happen all at once. But piece by piece, I saw the reality of my situation. There was emotional distance that couldn’t be ignored, and certain boundaries had clearly been crossed.
It hurt.
There’s no way to describe that kind of realization without acknowledging the pain that comes with it. But alongside that pain, there was something else—clarity. And that clarity was powerful.
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The conversation I had with my partner changed everything.
For the first time, I wasn’t speaking from a place of confusion. I was speaking from a place of understanding. And that made all the difference. There was no more denial, no more hiding behind excuses.
Just truth.
What I chose to do afterward was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made, but also one of the most important. I chose myself. I chose peace over uncertainty. I chose dignity over attachment.
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A better one.
If you’re in a situation where you feel unsure, where your mind is constantly racing and your heart feels heavy, I understand exactly how that feels. It’s not easy. But you don’t have to go through it blindly.
Sometimes, all you need is the right guidance to help you see clearly.
And for me, that guidance came at the right time.
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