After four years and no child, my husband started talking about a second wife, making me feel like I was the reason the child wasn’t coming. Meanwhile, all our clinical tests proved that his counts were low. He wouldn’t take his medicine but rather threw accusations at spirits that didn’t exist. If it wasn’t an uncle in the village who was responsible, it was my dad who didn’t agree to our marriage at the initial stages.

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When I didn’t agree to the second wife idea, he came home with a seven-month-old baby he said he had fathered. I thought he was joking until he brought his parents home to talk to me about it. I asked them what they wanted me to do. They said we should handle it as a family issue so it doesn’t bring separation. His mom said, “He’s also your son. Your husband’s son is your son.”

I wanted to leave the marriage. I felt his family ambushed me to accept that child into our home. They didn’t even bring the mother. Just the baby in a cot being wheeled by my husband. I told my parents about it. They asked me to do what would please me.

Since my husband was able to father a child, I felt insecure. I felt the problem was me—our inability to conceive. I didn’t want to leave the marriage and not be able to conceive, so I decided to try another man outside my marriage. I settled on a guy I met on a trip, and we started meeting once in a while. I met him when I was sure I could conceive. Once, twice, thrice, I got pregnant.

When the pregnancy was three months along, I called my parents and told them I wanted to leave the marriage. They asked why. They thought my husband had impregnated the woman again. I told them, “I’m the one who is pregnant, and he’s not the father.” My mom screamed, ‘Eiii Akua, as3m ben nie? How do we address this?”

My dad didn’t want me to come home again or call him my dad. According to him, I had brought shame to the family. I told him, “When my husband brought one, it was his own parents who communicated the shame to me. I don’t want that. I want out of the marriage before it comes out.”

My dad: “You giving us money doesn’t mean you can buy our conscience. We’ve washed our hands off this.”

It took me days to get him and his elder brother to lead a delegation to dissolve my marriage. My husband was shocked. He said it came out of nowhere. He asked what he did wrong. He asked if it was about the child he fathered. I told him I needed my peace and also to concentrate on how I could have my own child.” He said, “Don’t worry. It’s God who gives. At the right time, He will give you your own.”

We did the traditional process and later started the court one. It was during the court process that I made it clear I was pregnant by another man because he got another woman pregnant while we were waiting to conceive. He raised an allegation that the child could be his because he had been active in bed with me. That was a lie, but the court ordered a DNA test after delivery.

I had a daughter. It’s not his; the DNA proved that. He cursed me for getting pregnant by another man in his bed. “What bed? The bed I bought with my money that you moved into?” I asked.

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I’ve done so many silly things I later regretted and asked God for forgiveness, but this isn’t one. To have a child at thirty-eight years old when the man I married made me feel like all hope was lost for me? No, I don’t regret it.

My daughter’s father is very active in her life. He suggested marriage because I had a child with him, but I said no. I’ve had my share of marriage, and it’s enough for me. I have a daughter. That’s all I need to make this life worthwhile.

—Philo

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