
I always knew I wasn’t wanted by my family when I was growing up. My mother tried to get rid of the pregnancy that birthed me. It didn’t work out so she threw me away after she had me. Fortunately, the police found me and took me to my grandmother’s house. I know this story so well because my relatives constantly reminded me that I was not wanted by anyone.
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I lived with my aunt until I was five years old. Then my father took me in to live with him and my stepmother. “Finally,” I thought, “I get to experience the love of a parent.” Oh, I was so wrong. There was never a day that this man didn’t insult me. He constantly reminded me that taking care of me brought him no benefit. Those words broke my spirit.
When I went to senior high school, things took a turn I didn’t expect. A boy spread false rumours about me. He told everyone I had been intimate with him. I hadn’t even kissed a boy at that age. My dad didn’t believe me when he heard those lies. Out of anger and pain, I made choices I later regretted. I went ahead and gave myself to someone. I wanted to prove to my dad that I truly was a virgin, even though I couldn’t have shown him the proof. I know now that it was not a wise thing to do.
After school, I had good results and could have gone to the university, but my father refused to support me. He said I had to write remedials first. It didn’t make sense to me so I didn’t.
While I was figuring out what to do with my life, my father had a habit of bringing different girlfriends home. I didn’t warm up to any of them so he got angry. He said I was disrespecting his girlfriends. Then he threatened that if I drove them away with my attitude, he would turn to me to satisfy his needs. I didn’t want it to get there so I left home immediately.
I went to live with a pastor I believed would help me further my education. Little did I know that I had jumped from frying pan to fire. That man took advantage of my vulnerability. He used me however he wanted. I have lost count of the number of times he got me pregnant. When I got fed up with the many terminations, I kept the last one. That’s how I gave birth to my firstborn.
He never fulfilled his promises of helping me attain a university education. Nonetheless, I was determined to go to school. I went back home but my dad couldn’t stand the cries of my baby. So I gathered some money and rented a place.
Due to struggles getting a well-paying job, I couldn’t afford to pay my rent. I had to move to our village. My plan was to regroup and come back to the city to rebuild my life. In the process, I met Kwesi. He was the first man who showed me genuine kindness. And truly, he was the first person I felt loved by. My attachment to the love he showed me blinded me to his flaws.
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I got to know he was capable of abandoning me when I got pregnant and had his child. He was so irresponsible. I went through so much but I didn’t give up. I gathered my stuff and took my baby with me to the city. Luckily, a relative offered to take care of my first child.
In the city, I worked and saw myself through school. By the grace of God, I am now a graduate teacher. I teach in a private school while taking care of my child.
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Despite my progress, life is still tough. I’ve faced many forms of mistreatment and judgment — especially because I am a single mother. All I want is to find a place of love and joy, but it seems elusive. People often look at women like me as if we’ve done something wrong.
Will there ever be a world where single mothers are not judged but supported? Parenting is hard as it is when you have a partner. So imagine how it must feel to do it all alone. Don’t be in a hurry to judge a single mother, some of us carry stories of brokenness.
—Ajeley
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