If you haven’t read the first part of this story, here’s the link. Kindly read it before starting this one.

A lot of the comments were centered on where my child’s biological father was and whether he knew he had a child with me. I will answer that. But before that, let me also talk about my brother, since some of the comments were about him.

When my brother settled abroad, I was the first person he wanted to bring over. He tried several means, but it was proving difficult until he had a breakthrough just around the time I had my wedding. He was willing to send money. He was willing to do everything for me to get there. I asked him, “Am I coming with my husband?”

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He screamed, “Judith, don’t be stupid. Where was your husband when we started this process? Once you’re here, he’s your problem.” I told him calmly, “I can’t come if my husband is not coming along. We are too new to leave him here.”

He was very disappointed. He called my parents and reported me to them. They called me to have a conversation, but I insisted that I wouldn’t leave my husband. My parents understood me, and my brother backed off. He was angry and disappointed, but I was still his sister. He only told me, “I hope one day you don’t regret this.”

That was the reason I couldn’t tell him my problems when they started. If I had, all this wouldn’t have happened. While my parents were forcing me to go back to my husband, the only person whose support I needed was my brother’s. If I had told him, he might have helped me fly abroad, but I was scared he would say, “I told you so,” so I kept my shame and decided to handle things on my own.

Now, my daughter’s father. When he told me I should resolve my marital issues because he didn’t like drama, I fought tooth and nail to keep him. I didn’t know I was pregnant. If I had known from the start, maybe I would have used the pregnancy as a trump card to see if it could make him change his mind. I was that desperate because I thought I was in love with him.

Looking back, I know for sure that it wasn’t love. I was hurt at home and was looking for a place to heal, so wherever shade was promised, I took it as comfort. I was fighting to be with him because he showed me consistency, which I lacked in the home I was coming from. I cried to keep him. At some point, he blocked my line. I used my friends’ phones to call him. Once he realized it was me, he cut the line.

I decided to live without him, and then I found out about the pregnancy. I had lost my first child, and the pain of that loss was seared into my being. I didn’t want to think of losing another one; that’s why I didn’t tell him. He had spent weeks avoiding me. He would avoid the pregnancy too and maybe suggest abortion, so I kept things to myself.

When everything finally settled, my brother asked me about the way forward concerning the father of the child. I told him, “I don’t know. He might not believe me, or he might blame me for keeping it from him. I don’t want to have that conversation now. Maybe someday.”

We didn’t talk about it again, but I always thought about it. I started looking for him online just to see what he had been up to. One day I called him, but when he said hello, I cut the line. I was not ready for that conversation, so I asked my brother to talk to him man to man, and he did. I was there. He was on loudspeaker. He kept asking my brother, “Where’s Judith that you have to tell me this?”

I nearly answered, “I’m here,” but I held my tongue. My brother gave him my number and asked him to call me. When he called, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because you had cut me off.” He kept repeating, “Herh Judith, w’aha me ooo. W’aha me papa,” meaning I had brought nothing but worries into his life.

He didn’t ask where the child was or how she was doing. He didn’t ask for a photo of her or show anything that suggested he was interested in our daughter. His final words were, “Whenever you come to Ghana, you can bring her to see me.”

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Days later, he texted, “But we’ll have to do a DNA test to confirm it first.” I replied, “No problem.”

That was years ago. He hasn’t called or texted to ask about her. We haven’t been to Ghana to do the DNA test, and I don’t think I will be the one to initiate that. When my daughter is of age, I will tell her this story, and she will decide whether or not she wants to meet her father.

—Judith

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