I found out my wife was pregnant through a conversation she was having with another man. We’d been married for three years and were trying to have a baby. The first two years were normal, but in the third year we started talking to doctors to see what was wrong with us. They didn’t find anything wrong but advised us to continue living a healthy life and engage in more intimacy to increase our chances of conception.

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One evening, my wife was sleeping on the couch while holding her phone. Her screen kept lighting up and going dim. I drew closer to take the phone from her hand so it wouldn’t fall. My eye caught a message that said, “Hellooo, are you sleeping?”

My curiosity was piqued. I wanted to know what they were talking about that made my wife fall asleep mid-chat. I scrolled up and saw the conversation had started that very evening. As a matter of fact, it had begun about three hours earlier, judging by the first “hello.”

I patiently went through the messages. It was fun and lively at first until the tone of the conversation started changing. My wife said she was pregnant. The man doubted it, but my wife insisted and said, “I checked just yesterday and it was positive. I’ve used three different test kits and they all said the same thing, so I believe it’s true.”

The man asked, “Is your husband aware of it already?” She responded almost immediately, “What if it’s yours?”

It was the man’s response that sent chills down my spine. He answered, “Then I will bless it and give it to you two to keep. After all, that’s what you’ve been looking for.”

My hands started shaking. She was lying there peacefully as if she were an angel, but deep down she was dining with the devil. I wanted to hit her to wake her up. I wanted to pull her down and scream in her ears until she confessed everything, but what was there to confess? The message was right in front of me.

I woke her up after taking screenshots. My first question was, “Are you pregnant?” She answered, “How did you know?” I replied, “From your phone. You were talking about it with the man who got you pregnant.”

Her face changed. She quickly picked up her phone and started going through it. She said, “No, it was a joke. I was only pulling his leg. You don’t have to take it seriously.”

When I asked who the man was, she said it was an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. According to her, the man wasn’t even in Ghana. I asked her to call the number. She told me the number was only on WhatsApp, so it couldn’t be called. “Then call him on WhatsApp.”

I was shaking with anger but spoke calmly so it wouldn’t escalate into something catastrophic. I snatched the phone, dialed the number, and put it on loudspeaker. Immediately the man picked up. She spoke loudly so he would know there was tension. “Oh Ben, why don’t you trust me? I’m telling you he’s nothing to me but just a friend.”

The man dropped the call and never picked up again. He even blocked the number.

I called her father the next day and told him everything. I said, “Your daughter is pregnant for another man. I can’t stay in this marriage again. I’m leaving this house, and I don’t want to come back and meet her here.”

Deep into the night, I stepped out without knowing where I was going. Everything looked blurry. My mind was clouded. I walked for over two hours to a friend’s house, and those two hours felt like minutes. When he saw me, he asked, “My guy, what’s wrong with you? Were you robbed?”

That was when I realized I didn’t have a shirt on. I was only in a very short knicker I wear at home. He gave me a place to sleep, but all night I cried while narrating my story. He was shocked too. He had been the best man at our wedding and knew how much I loved my wife.

I stayed with him for three weeks. He was the one who went back to my house to bring clothes for me so I could go to work. My wife was there when he got there, and she had the audacity to tell him I was misunderstanding everything—that the message was just a joke that went wrong.

Her parents called me. I told them I didn’t want anything to do with her, so they should advise her to leave my house. I only returned when I heard she had vacated. When the family sat down to address the issue, I told them, “If she gives birth and the child is mine, I will be a father and provide for the child, but I can’t stay married to her again, no matter what.”

She is currently seven months pregnant. From the beginning, they asked me to take care of her until she delivered since we didn’t know who the father was. I told them I was saving money for a DNA test, so she should keep receipts of every expense. When she delivers and the child is mine, I will reimburse her.

I’m counting the months like days. I can’t wait for her to give birth, but my prayer every day is that the child shouldn’t be mine. I will curse my stars if it turns out to be mine. It means for the rest of my life I will have something tying me to her, something permanent that will always remind me of her.

I want to forget we were ever married. I don’t want to have a child with a woman who was determined to give me another man’s child. The pain sits with me every day. At one point, I even prayed she would miscarry if the pregnancy was mine. But God is not a man, so that prayer wasn’t answered.

It’s Not God’s Law For A Man To Apologize To A Woman

Now, it’s left with one final prayer, and the answer will come when the child is born. Maybe it’s too late, but I still pray it will never be mine. She knew I might not be able to give her a child and decided to get one elsewhere. She got it eventually, so let the child belong to the man who ran away after that call.

—Benjamin 

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