I have been living with hepatitis B for the past 10 years, and for most of that time, I never really understood what it meant to live with the condition.

I got to know about it after I got pregnant right after junior high. It was a squishy kind of teenage love I believed would stand the test of time. Immediately he heard the news of the pregnancy, his go-to response was to abort it. My parents refused. They said I must have it by fire by force. It was at antenatal care that I was broken the news that I had hepatitis B.

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At the time, I had never even heard of hepatitis B, so I was not scared. What you don’t know won’t kill you. Like a child learning his ABCs, the nurses took time and explained to me what I was having. The dos and don’ts, including not having unprotected sex, not kissing, and taking precautions to avoid spreading the virus.

When the people at home heard of the news, they too started treating me differently. As if being pregnant was not enough for them to look at me differently. My brother’s wife was a nurse, she should have known better, but rather she was warning me to stay away from her.

In the house, she gave me my own bowl, cup and spoon. I understand that she may have been scared, but the way she treated me made me feel sad and isolated. Even after the whole family went for testing and it showed negative.

My parents showed me truly that when a child defecates on your laps, you don’t cut your thighs, you clean it off. They held me closer than ever.

I gave birth to a baby girl. Sweet, beautiful, my own.

Four years later, I travelled to Accra to work as a house help, working and buying herbal medicines to help me. I met a man who was working as a security man. He said that he loved me. He made a promise to marry me. I didn’t tell him about my condition. In my mind, I was cured because of the herbal medicines I was taking. I agreed to date him.

It was when he found a nanny job for me that I was to do a medical test, and it showed that I was still living with it.

Before I had the opportunity to tell him, the people who were employing me called to inform him. Days later, I went to meet him. He said that having hepatitis wasn’t going to make him leave me.

I rented a place because of his money. It was GH¢5,000. He added GH¢3,400. Meanwhile, we were still talking about me going to school to continue my education.

One month after we rented the room, he was given an apartment. So we took the money we had paid for the room and moved out. Even then, he gave me GH¢3,000 from the money and kept the rest.

Months later, he too was diagnosed with Hepatitis B. Before I went to school, he started complaining about chest pains and swelling in his legs. We went to the hospital for a check-up, and that was when we found out he too now had hepatitis B. I was shaken that with all the measures we were taking, he still contracted it. Again, he filled my cup with hope, said we would sail through together.

He kept his promise till I went to school. Then it started. He stopped picking my calls, messages were answered hours later, he didn’t want to come see me at the hostel.

I knew something was wrong, but I held on to hope till he called, saying that he had no other option than to break up with me because it isn’t medically smart. He had gone to doctors, and they advised him to choose his health. The more we were together and intimate, the more the virus in his body multiplied. “When you come to Accra, come for your things,” he said.

That was the last I heard from him till I went for my belongings at his end.

Imagine writing exams and dealing with a broken heart. I really, really loved him. I had even rented my room out so we could move in together, so then I didn’t know where I would stay.

I asked him to at least help me rent another place to stay. He said he would, but one year has passed and he has still not done anything about it.

Since then, other men have approached me, but I am always afraid.

I keep thinking, what if I tell him about my hepatitis B and he leaves me too?

I am scared of going through the same pain again.

Apart from my current ex and my family, no one knows about what I am going through. I don’t even have a friend I can sit down with and talk to about it.

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I have been carrying all of this alone, and honestly, I am tired and sad.

I don’t know if I should try love again. I don’t know how to tell someone about my condition without being afraid that they will reject me. How do I move on from what happened? How do I deal with the fear of being rejected because of hepatitis B?

— Juliet
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