My dad is not coming to my wedding, and that’s fine. I can always live with that, but the fact that he’s angry at me and is threatening me emotionally is what I can’t stand. So on the phone, I told him, “I’m not choosing my stepdad over you. I’m only trying to respect the role he played in my life. If you have a problem with that, I don’t mind, but stop trying to emotionally gaslight me.”

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My dad didn’t divorce my mom officially but travelled abroad and lost contact with her. According to my mom, it was intentional because my dad met another Ghanaian woman and decided to start a life with her. For close to three years, my mom waited for my dad while I was also growing into a girl.

Then someone from abroad delivered the news to my mom that my dad had been married for years and even had two children with this new wife. My mom didn’t waste time at all. The next day, she was at the door of my grandparents asking them to go to my dad’s family and ask for a divorce.

Mom got a divorce and a few months later started a relationship with my stepdad.

My step dad loved me right from the start. I remember my mom telling me that my step dad married her because of me, because of the way I didn’t want to let him go anytime he came around. Right after their marriage, my step dad held my hand and took me to a school nearby and told them, “This is my daughter. I want her in this school.”

He paid for everything I needed in my life without my mom having to ask him to do it. Right from then, he took over my life, bought me beautiful things, and made me part of himself. He even decorated my room and put a bedside lamp there and said, “Just in case you wake up at dawn and you want to read a story.”

I was about to start university when my dad appeared. I heard of his coming through rumors. My mom whispered it. My step dad didn’t want to give a voice to it, but one day my dad came and requested to see me. My mom and my stepdad already had two kids then, but their presence didn’t change the way my step dad loved me. When I met my dad, I felt weird. He looked like a stranger, and weirdly, I couldn’t find anything to connect with him.

Everyone around apologized on his behalf, but he never said a word of apology. When he finally talked, he said, “No matter what has happened, no matter what your mom has told you, both lies and the truth, I’m still your dad. That cannot change, and I’m going to make things right.”

He paid my fees for the first time when I was going to university. He went back abroad and then sent money and shipped things to me. We talked. Sometimes it felt like I was cheating on my stepdad. It was hard for me to place my emotions between these two men, but my stepdad didn’t make things difficult for me. When I talked to him about my dad, he listened and even gave me advice on what to do.

By the time I completed university, my dad had come home to settle and had started businesses.

The best of our relationship happened when I was doing my service. I’d gotten to know him enough and had warmed up to him very well. We could laugh over jokes and talk silly about things.

When the relationship between me and Kobby turned serious, I mentioned Kobby to my dad, but then I took Kobby home to meet my mom and my stepdad. My dad got angry that he was the one I should have taken Kobby to.

We visited my dad when we had the chance and also visited my mom and step dad as often as we could. Everything was fine until we started making marriage plans. It became so confusing and so frustrating that I told my mom to decide once and for all, “Who do you think should have the courtesy as my dad?”

She always told me I was old enough to decide, so I decided to split things between the two men. We did the knocking twice, but when it came to the list, it was the family head from my mom’s side who gave Kobby the list. My dad got angry and also presented his own list.

He insisted the traditional wedding should be in his house and also insisted on being the only father for the occasion.

I decided that after the traditional wedding, I would bring everything back to my step dad’s house. After all, that is where my mom and my siblings live. My stepdad would walk me down the aisle and would sign my marriage certificate for me. It was a personal choice. I discussed it with my father right from the onset, and he said, “When we get to the bridge, we will cross it.”

A few weeks to my wedding and my dad called. “My friends, both in Ghana and abroad, will attend the wedding. I can’t let them watch another man walk my daughter down the aisle, so change the arrangements and bring both weddings home to my place.”

I said no. It was an instant answer. I didn’t even give myself a moment to think about it. “No, Dad. That isn’t the arrangement. We’ve gone too far to change it. So no.”

“Then count me out of your wedding. I’m not coming anywhere close to the event, and don’t also think I will give you a father’s blessing. That won’t happen.”

Honestly, it didn’t bother me. I felt he had even made the whole thing easier for me. But each morning and night, he would call and send subtle curses, telling me I was bringing shame and bad luck to my marriage. “You can’t have another father when your real father is alive. That’s an abomination.”

Every morning and night. To the extent I’ve thought of blocking him. On the other side, my stepdad paid for my wedding gown, and he’s always looking for an opportunity to contribute something. He’s not rich, but he’s very rich in giving and patience. He has this calmness that makes me believe his hand on me during my marriage would always bring calmness to me.

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But my real dad is on the other side of life, sending fatherly curses and scaring me into submission. I gave him a piece of my mind. I don’t hate him. I love the fact that he built bridges between us on his return. I will always respect that. But what’s wrong if he allows the man who called me “daughter” even before I was, to be a father?

—Elvis

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