I met Ahmed when my father and grandfather introduced him to me. He told them he was interested in marrying me. Luckily, they didn’t force him on me. Rather, they spoke to me about his intentions. “Try and get to know him for yourself,” they encouraged. This was in 2020. I was only sixteen. I didn’t think about what I wanted. I thought only about who they wanted me to be with. So I agreed to talk to him.

Ahmed seemed like a responsible and decent man when I started getting to know him. We were not yet married but he looked out for me as though I was already his wife. And when we talked about us, he always referred to me as his wife.

I was sure that what we had was as secure as the locks on a prison cell. That’s why I was surprised when he didn’t welcome the news of our pregnancy with joy. “If you want to marry me then why are you freaking out that you got me pregnant? Is it not a good news? It means I am fertile, right?” He shook his head, “It would have been good news if we were already married. Your father won’t be happy that we didn’t wait. Let’s get rid of it.”

He brought me the pills. He said it would clear everything. I was scared but I was more scared of what my father would do if he found out so I took it. We thought we were free but it didn’t take long before I conceived again. He brought another set of pills. He didn’t say much. His words were, “You already know how to use them.” “Yes, but I am not taking them again. I will keep the baby,” I protested. He tried to persuade me but I stood my ground. Then my father found out.

He didn’t get upset or lash out the way I thought he would. He calmly said, “These days you don’t have to give birth just because you got pregnant. We will take care of it so you can go on and live your life.” When I tried to object he asked me, “Do you think I am allowing you to date that boy because he is the one I want you to marry?”

According to my dad, he only agreed for us to date because he wanted Ahmed to take care of me through school. “If you complete school and you don’t want to marry him anymore, you can leave him. Your relationship with him is not a life sentence.” I was surprised my father could conceive such a devious thought. This is a man who raised me strictly in an Islamic way of life.

“Won’t Allah punish me for spending somebody’s money under false pretenses while wasting his time in the process?” I asked him. He told me there are women out there who have benefited from the benevolence of men without marrying them. He asked if those women were created differently from me. He said I was too naïve.

My father didn’t rest until I got rid of the pregnancy. I was in a lot of pain but I had to endure it. When I got better, I moved to my mother’s place. I have always loved cooking and I want to make a career out of it so we found a catering school in the neighborhood for me. When it was time to pay the fees, Ahmed was asked to bring the money. He gave my grandfather GHC4,000 for my feeding, fees, and transportation.

Later, we found out that the catering establishment we checked out was not actually a school. I told my grandfather about it and he said he would go for a refund. I left for Accra before he went for the supposed refund.

I went to Accra with the promise of attending a catering school. “My aunt works as the headmistress of a catering school in Accra so I can get you in,” Ahmed promised. This was in the last quarter of 2021.

He took me to one of his aunts who was running a business. He said he needed to put his affairs in order before I would join him. I lived with his aunt for a few months and helped her with her business. While I was there I couldn’t stop thinking about my desire to go to school.

I called him one day and asked, “Shouldn’t we be making preparations for my school? The school will start receiving new admissions soon.” He agreed and came for me. He then took me to his friend’s place where we perched. He explained, “I have been having money problems these days so I need you to be patient with me when it comes to your school.” As an understanding girlfriend, I said okay.

While we were still living with his friend, Ahmed started behaving strangely. Whenever I was walking on the streets with Ahmed and he saw a red Camry, he would quickly push me away and say, “Hurry up and go hide.” Sometimes the urgency with which he says, “Go and hide” made it sound like someone was going to attack me, so I would rush to hide before fully grasping his intentions that he was trying to hide me from someone.

The car drama aside, every time we were in town and he saw his friends or family members, he would quicken his pace and leave me behind, making it look like we weren’t walking together.

Sometimes when a member of his family saw us together and asked Ahmed who I was to him, he would say we were just friends. I confided in his friends, and they advised me never to be with a man who was ashamed of me. 

I thought about all their advice and tried to break up with him but he refused. He never explained why he was hiding me either. All he said was that it wasn’t the right time for us to break up and that he had big plans for us. What were his plans? He got a farm in the north. He told me we could use proceeds from the farm to fund my education.

At the mention of school, I forgave all his shady behavior and jumped on board. After all, that was the plan. I was with him because my father wanted him to take care of my education. So why not see it through? Besides, I loved him. So even if I began to doubt that Ahmed was not the man he first presented himself to be, I rationalized my decision to stay with him with the phrase, “… but I love him.” 

I thought I could prove to my father that Ahmed wasn’t someone to be used for his money and discarded. I was barely eighteen, yet I was so sure that Ahmed was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Life on the farm was not easy. I had never stepped foot on a farm before but at that point, I had to learn how to farm so I would support my man. We were building our future together, that was what I believed.

A few months after we settled, I found out that I was pregnant again. We were struggling to survive but this time around, we decided to have the baby. While we were struggling to make ends meet in the north, someone offered Ahmed a job to work on a farm in Accra. The timing couldn’t have been better. We needed the money badly to take care of the pregnancy so we packed our stuff and left.

I lived on the new farm with Ahmed throughout the pregnancy until I was almost due for delivery, then he rented an apartment for me to move in while we awaited the arrival of the baby. A month after we moved, the baby came.

When he came to the hospital and saw me with our newborn, he didn’t even say congratulations or thank you. He didn’t even present me with a gift. He took photos of the baby and left. It was his sister who came to pay the bills for us to be discharged.

One day I was at home when he went out and brought his daughter. I had no prior knowledge that his child was going to live with us. All he said was, “I have brought your daughter. Take care of her.” I am a mother so I loved this girl the way I loved her dad. 

As time went on, I realized that the farm in Accra was doing well. Because of this, Ahmed started getting money again. This is someone who shared every information with me when he had nothing. However, I became a scary person to him when he started seeing money. He bought a farm and kept it a secret from me. When I found out about it and asked him, he lied that it was his uncle’s farm.

One day I fell down and broke my arm. We went to the hospital for treatment and found out I was three months pregnant. Again? I thought. It was going to put a dent in my plans but we decided to keep this one too. That was the only time Ahmed was helpful. I couldn’t do anything with the broken arm so he stepped in and started bathing our son. The moment he saw that I was better, he took off and left me to do the parenting alone. Physically, he wasn’t present. He said he always had to work, yet he was not providing for us. 

I thought we were partners but he treats me like a charity case. I remember when I asked him to give me money to start selling Angwamo (braised rice) in front of our room. He offered me only GHC400, that I should use it to sell water. I took the money and kept it. I was there hoping and praying for a miracle when a male friend gifted me GHC400 out of the blue. I added it to the money I already had saved and bought the items for my rice business.

It was going on well till it stopped all of a sudden. I was worried so I started asking questions. I saw a little boy who used to buy my food and asked him, “Why don’t you buy from me anymore?” He answered, “Bra Ahmed does pig business so you may be using the same pot for the pork to cook the rice.” We live in an Islamic community and Muslims are very particular about these things.

There was no way Ahmed was going to stop his business because it belonged to his boss, so his family advised me to stop mine. What choice did I have?

I started an online business that earned me some money. I spent very little and saved the rest for school. However, when Ahmed decided his daughter would live with us permanently against my objections, he refused to send money for her to be enrolled in school. I kept asking myself, “If she was my daughter, would I allow her to stay out of school just because her father didn’t provide?” So I went into my savings and took this little girl to school, setting back my plans to further my education.

As if he hasn’t done enough, he wants to take my son from me. He said, “My sister will take care of him so that you can be free.” I never asked to be free so I don’t know where he got that idea.

To think that he wouldn’t give me money to buy food and diapers for his own child, yet he expects me to give away this child to his sister and trust that the boy will be properly taken care of, is unfathomable

He keeps telling me he loves me but he does not show it. We’ve been together for four years and the only thing I have to show for it is my son and the unborn baby. He has never bought me a gift. I asked him to take me on a date and he called me selfish. My phone is cracked and chipped. When I asked him to buy me a new one he said I didn’t have vision. I asked him to buy a kids’ tablet for our son so he could use it to learn rhymes, and he said, “Where would I get the money from?” Meanwhile, he buys expensive clothes and accessories for himself. He likes to look good in front of his friends and other men yet doesn’t care about being a good father to his children.

Now when I sit down, I ask myself, “How do I get my life back together?” I am currently nineteen with a son and another baby on the way. How will I take care of my children and still help myself through school?” Honestly, I believe going back to school will give me hope that all is not lost. I will regain my confidence and get help to carve a new path for my life.

Ahmed was supposed to help me achieve this but he is now the one dragging me through the mud. I want to leave this scam of a relationship but I have nowhere to go.

I Didn’t Tell Anybody Because I Enjoyed It

I’ve had patience but I am getting depressed and looking like a mad person. In case you are wondering, Ahmed is not a child. He is thirty-five so he knows what he is doing. I can’t believe I chose him despite my father’s advice. I have learned my lessons now and I am ready to turn my life around. The question is, where do I start? I don’t have any guidance so things just keep happening to me. How do I make things happen for me instead? How do I become the kind of mother my children will be proud of?

Most importantly, I want to go to catering school. Is there any individual or organization here that can support this dream of mine? Please, if after reading my story, you are tempted to insult me, think about the fact that I have already gone through so much already. What I need now is guidance and support, so don’t add salt to injury.

—Latifa

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