TW: Domestic Violence//Self Harm//Assault
I: Can you share a bit about your background and what led you to become a single mother?
F: I’m from Ogun State, but I grew up in several states and towns in Nigeria, even up north. I’m the last child of five girls. My parents are religious. They’re pastors. I finished secondary school at fourteen and got admission into OOU at 17 to study law.
I was a law student when I met the guy I got pregnant with. I was naïve. I was the youngest, so the only child left with my parents as my older siblings had gone to their various schools. I didn’t have a cordial relationship where I could talk about private and deep things with my sisters. So, I was just doing things as my young mind saw fit.
I met Jide in 200L through a mutual friend. I didn’t know then that he had been expelled from OOU. He didn’t want to go back home. For reasons best known to him, he remained on campus as a student. He was supposedly a civil engineering student and a socialite.
I: Did you guys start dating?
F: Yeah. I felt flattered when he noticed me and started giving me attention. I agreed to date him. I didn’t know he was no longer a student till I got pregnant. I was eighteen and very pregnant. Saying I was scared or confused is an understatement. So, I ran away with him.
I couldn’t face my parents. I just left and abandoned school. We were in a room apartment after I ran away, but when he ran out of money, he took me to his dad’s house. His parents were separated, and he didn’t want to live with his mother. So, his dad’s house was the only choice. Because he was kind of a prodigal child, his dad was indifferent about me. We were given a room, and we lived there. He was out of school, with no options for a job and income, so I started teaching in a primary school, and he became a bike man.
I saw hell.
I: I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you. Did your parents look for you?
F: They didn’t. They practically wanted me away. I was pretty much disowned.
I: Did they know that you had left school? Why you ran away?
F: Yeah, they did. I called them when I dropped out and said that I was dropping out because I was pregnant and couldn’t bear to come home.
I: They just let you go? Did they know where you were?
F: Nope, but they later came around.
I: Yeah? How many years later was that?
F: By coming around, I mean that they later calmed down.
I: Alright. You were eighteen, alone, with your whole life ahead of you. Why didn’t you get an abortion?
F: We both wanted the baby. At least, he did initially.
I: Do you know what changed for him?
F: I don’t know. I haven’t the slightest idea, but immediately after the baby came, he changed.
I: How did he start acting towards you and the baby?
F: He started leaving home. He’d go for days without concern for our feeding. When the baby was nine months old, he called me back home. They asked me to bring him along.
I: Were you still staying at Jide’s dad’s place?
F: No. Three months after I had the baby, we left his dad’s place to go and rent our place.
I: So, your parents didn’t reach out to you during the entire pregnancy and even after you initially had the child?
F: No, not really. I only talked to my parents over the phone. The phone calls were, but; there wasn’t much to discuss. We just greeted each other and told each other to take care. On my due date, I called my parents to inform them I would have the baby via CS. My mom came down to the town, Sagamu, to see me in the hospital even though I was unconscious during surgery. There was no physical contact till after the surgery.
I: So, how did you cope afterwards?
F: Well, later on, my dad asked me what my plan was since I was out of school, and I told him that I’d love to learn photography. My dad funded it, and I was back to living with my parents. I’d leave the baby with my parents and go to the studio where I was learning photography.
I: It couldn’t have been easy. Did you quit your job at the school?
F: It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t quit. I needed to work and support him as he was not doing well financially then. He was driving motorcycles.
I: Can you tell me a bit about what your mental health was like during this time? Anything that helped you?
F: Terrible. I was doing all I felt I could to live through each day as it came. There was nothing that really helped me. I was barely alive. I was simply following a routine, sleeping, waking, working, returning home and then staring into space. Interactions with people at work helped a bit. I didn’t tell anyone about me and my situation. It was mostly just work jokes.
I: I’m so sorry. What about your friends from school?
F: I am an introvert; I didn’t have many friends. When I got myself into the mess, I ghosted them. They tried to reach me once or twice, but I shut everyone out. I was beginning to regret my naivete and my decision to leave school.
I: For the record, you were just eighteen at the beginning of your relationship with Jide. How old was Jide?
F: He was 27, very much older than I was.
I: Thank you. What happened when you returned to your parent’s house?
F: I was enrolled into photography school. During the weekends, I’d take the kids down to him at Sagamu on some weekends. My parents even suggested we do a ‘small marriage’.
I: Did you?
F: Not at all. He started misbehaving when I went to stay with my parents to learn photography, but I didn’t give it much thought till I went back to living with him after I had finished learning photography.
I: Why did you go back to living with him?
F: My parents didn’t want me to live with them. I was already married in their eyes. They wanted him to do all the marriage rites. After the learning period, my dad gave me some money to get myself a camera and start up as a photographer.
The money was in my account, and my dad informed him about it so we could work together to get a good camera, but then Bobo ran away with the money—all of it.
I: Ah? What happened?
F: One weekend, he asked that I withdraw the money so we could go and buy the camera the following week. I did. I brought the money home, around a hundred and fifty thousand naira, then I gave the money to him for safekeeping and in my presence, he put it in the wardrobe.
That Sunday, while I was in church, he texted me on WhatsApp. He sent a picture of the wardrobe open and the money gone. The house wasn’t broken into, and neither was the wardrobe. It was definitely the one person I was living with; him.
He denied taking the money. He wasn’t home the day before, and he told me that when he returned while I was in church, he saw the door ajar and the money in the wardrobe gone. The ‘thief’ didn’t burgle the house; they just went straight to the wardrobe and made away with the money.
I: What did you do then?
F: I was distraught. I was very angry and confused, amongst other scary emotions. I couldn’t call my parents. I didn’t know who to confide in. I kept it in.
The same week, I started getting calls from his girlfriend. She told me to leave her man alone.
I: Girlfriend, while you were cohabiting and co-parenting?
F: Yes. I got death threats, and curses rained on me and my child. Apparently, he had a girlfriend he cared for alongside her family. He cared for the girlfriend, her mother, and her sisters. He would leave me at home for days without a dime to feed. Those times, I’d take Garri with nothing because there was nothing to feed myself, and I was nursing a child.
Whenever he returned from his escapades, he’d raid my bag and every part of the house to find my money and make away with it. The day I stood up to him and told him that I wouldn’t take his shit anymore, he beat the hell out of me and nearly blinded my eye with a belt. That was the day I knew I’d had enough and returned to my parents.
I: I am so sorry for what you went through. What about your baby?
F: He took my kid and asked that I leave and that he not meet me in the house when he returned. I refused to leave without my kid.
I had seen a maggot-infested used pad in his wardrobe some weeks before, so I wasn’t sure what he’d do to my child if I left, so I refused. I got beaten black and blue. The neighbours wanted to interfere, and he got violent with them. I had no choice but to head to my parent’s house without my child. I saved some money with neighbours when I realised he was after all my money, taking it when I wasn’t home. I took the money that night and headed to my parents.
I: How did you get your child back, and what did your parents say when they saw you?
F: Fortunately, it was the week of one of my sister’s weddings, so we had a lot of family members around. They persuaded my parents to take me back, seeing how heavily beaten and swollen I was.
The next day, there was a family meeting. My aunts and my uncles talked to my parents. They chided my parents and asked them if they wanted me dead. My parents then took me to a hospital, and I got my bruises treated. I was nearly blind in one eye. My dad called his lawyer and was ready to press charges, but my uncles and aunts wouldn’t have it. They told my dad that he was guilty of letting me go in the first place, and so there was no point pursuing a court case.
Jide called my mom two days later to tell her I was missing. He told them we had a disagreement, and I left home, and he didn’t know my whereabouts. Two days later, he brought my child to my parent’s place. I didn’t let him know I was there, and my parents didn’t either. My mom told him not to look for me. She said she was only bothered about the kid I left behind. She said she needed to see the baby. It was so that she could trick him into bringing my son over.
He brought my son back, and my mom took him. She said she’d take care of him. He left. By the weekend, he returned for my sister’s wedding. That was when he saw me, but I refused to engage in any kind of conversation with him.
I: Ei, he has audacity! What happened after the wedding?
F: He came with his mother after the wedding to ‘apologise’ for his wrongdoings. I told him I was never going back. He stole my money, repeatedly; even the one meant for my camera. He finally left, and that was that. He’d call to talk, but I was done with him.
I: That was him out of your life for good?
F: Yeah! When we talked on the phone, I’d ask if there was any responsibility of the child that he would like to take up, and he kept making promises. The promises have never been fulfilled. About four years later, I met him by accident. He told me he was married with two kids and that his life was terrible. Again, he promised to take care of my kid, but all was unfulfilled. I let him be. No communication since then; I’m not sure where he is right now, and his friends don’t either.
I: See how karma works? What came next for you and your son?
F: When my son was two, I moved out of town to live with one of my sisters. She was single then. I lived with her, and I saw it as an opportunity to start afresh.
I: What was it like living with your sister?
F: It was okay. My sister was super supportive, but I needed to get on my feet, so I worked; hard. At some point, I was working two jobs. I was a cash officer at a fueling station and a sales representative at an eatery. I worked in the restaurant from morning till around three p.m. Then I’d head to the fueling station. There, as the cash officer, my job description was balancing accounts and taking the cash from sales to the bank daily. I would get home at night, exhausted, but we move. I couldn’t go back to school; my dad was old and in and out of sickness. My sister, whom I was living with, was schooling, so it wasn’t an option for me. Then. I was working and supporting my sister in school while taking care of my kid, as he had started school as well.
I: What was it like balancing that and raising a child?
F: It was wild. I had no time for my kid. My sister was in charge of him entirely. I’d drop him off at his school in the morning and won’t see him till late at night, and he’d have gone to sleep. My sister, for all intents and purposes, was the mom then. She’d pick him up from school and help him with his homework. We lived like this for a year, and then I had to go and live with another one of my sisters. She had just given birth and needed help.
I left my child with my immediate sister in Abeokuta and headed to Ibadan to help out my other sister. I was helping with the baby at home as she and her husband had to go to their respective offices. Then, another evil showed up. My sister’s husband was making advances at me. I was almost raped at a point.
I: Oh no. I’m so sorry. Life refused to give you a break.
F: You can say that again. By this time, my sister, who was caring for my child, couldn’t cope anymore, and my kid had to be taken down to my parents.
I: How long were you away from your kid?
F: Four years. I could only visit him at my parent’s once in a while. This time, my dad was fully responsible for him so that I could concentrate on hustling.
I: Did you spend four years at your sister’s place? And did you ever tell her about her husband?
F: I didn’t. I never did. I only told my immediate sister, and that was many years after. My sister was shocked and angry, but we let sleeping dogs lie. Someone else had reported my sister’s husband to her. She accused him of doing the same thing to her, but my sister wouldn’t have any of it and accused the person of being a devil. It was the sign I needed to keep quiet about it. I ran. I didn’t have money to rent a place, so I squatted with a friend for months. Again, I was almost raped by her boyfriend too. This time, I begged for money and solicited help from friends I had made on social media. I told them my predicament, and they helped me raise a decent amount to get me a single room I lived in.
I: My goodness! What’s wrong with people? Did you tell your friend what happened?
F: I did. She said I was lying and that I wanted to destroy her relationship. Then she asked that I leave her house.
I: So, you finally got your place, away from the nonsense. What happened then?
F: That was when the mental breakdowns started. Everything I’d been through started coming to me. It hit me so deeply that I rapidly fell into depression. I couldn’t get food jobs because I was a school certificate holder. No good job meant no good pay. I was slipping in and out of depression. I met men whose only interest in me was in my body, sex and nothing else. I started coming up with absurd conclusions. You see, when I was younger, nine years old, actually, a close relative raped me. I concluded that something was wrong with me, and then I slipped into depression.
I: I am so sorry. Nothing is /was wrong with you.
F: Thank you. I was fortunate to work in a secondary school. I was teaching English Language, and my salary was fifteen thousand. That was in 2017. But whenever I was back home, I faced mental and psychological battles. I slept on the floor of my rented apartment for a year and more. I couldn’t afford to buy a bed. It was tough. I was in a relationship with a guy, but he dumped me. Although we’re on good terms now, I still don’t know why, and I’ve never asked. I felt so broken.
I: Oh, you’ve been through a lot. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.
F: In 2019, I lost my dad. He had been in and out of sickness. I came back to Ibadan after his burial, and I told myself that I was going just to end it all. I overdosed on drugs, but miraculously like I can’t even explain it; I didn’t die. I overdosed, went to sleep, and woke up the next day, and nothing happened to me. I did it again, and after the third time, I just stopped.
All this time, I was attending church, and I was a worker. A chorister, I started talking to people. I opened up to very close people in the church. They prayed with me, counselled me and supported me with kind words. Then I started to come out of that dark place.
In 2020, I went back to school. I started all over again. I took a form, attended a private poly and obtained a diploma in mass communication.
I: It seems like your life had started to go in the direction you wanted it. What was the plan for your relationship with your son?
F: I’m grateful to God that despite everything, I’m moving forward. My relationship with my son is smooth. I was able to have him back to living with me about three years ago. Though the journey has been a rollercoaster, we keep moving.
I: I love that for you! How has the time away from each other impacted your relationship?
F: The impact is there. There are ways I’d have loved to handle his formative years, and yeah, it’s not the same as how he was raised. Correcting it all is a bit of a task, but yeah, we’re getting there.
I: What kind of things are you correcting?
F: It’s things like spoken English and his ability to express his emotions. He is not expressive regarding feelings, especially the ‘negative’ emotions like anger or being upset.
I: How are you helping him correct it? It must require a lot of patience.
F: A lot of patience, my dear sister. A whole lot. I make use of the repetition approach. I constantly repeat the corrections. I get angry sometimes when I repeat stuff, but then I remind myself that he’s still a child, so I keep talking and repeating. It can be frustrating, but I remind myself that he’s an only child, and the correction process can be a long one. So, we persevere.
I’ve learned that male children, or children in general, will play on your intelligence and do a lot of mischief. So I do plenty of talking and a little bit of caning.
I: What’s it like being a boy mom?
F: Terrific! Male children are a composition of overflowing energy! They’re restless, hyperactive and can be mischievous when they choose to be, so it’s a bumpy ride.
I: Plenty of mischief with their cute faces! Tell me, what’s something you know now that you wish you’d known earlier?
F: Emotional intelligence. I wish I were as emotionally intelligent as I am now. I was easily swayed by sweet talk but not anymore.
I: What’s something you’d tell other young girls that might find themselves in a similar position to the one you were in?
F: The truth is, I don’t have any words for the younger girls. My words would have been to find an adult that can guide you, and you can confide in, but the problem is not the younger girls; it’s the adults. It takes a responsible adult to help a growing woman or human.
Adults should be good people. The world has seen a lot of ‘nonsense’ and terrible humans as adults. We need adults that we can trust a child with, not adults that we can’t charge to help young ones. Adults that can’t guide them so they can grow well. Broken, terrible adults.
My advice is that adults be good people, genuinely responsible people. This way, they can guide and guard the young so they don’t fall prey.
I: This is so well said; I agree with you. The burden falls on the adults to protect the young. Have you faced any discrimination because you’re a single parent?
F: I’ve lost count of times. I used to be bothered but not anymore.
I: What changed for you?
F: My mindset. I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s something I can’t change. The fact that it has also opened doors for me helped.
I: What’s it like balancing parenting alone with work?
F: Please add schooling. It is not easy! I could only summon the courage to go to school after my kid came to live with me. It is a lot of stress, but I thank God for strength.
Before I started working remotely, I was working in a physical office and schooling. Sometimes, I’d go from school to office or office to school, depending on the lecture timetable. Then I’ll rush to get home before six p.m. so I wouldn’t leave my child exposed too much. It was a lot of stress. When his school was on break, I’d take him with me wherever I was going; school or office. Later on, I decided to work remotely fully. Then I’d go to school when he was in school as well. A lot of the time, we’d get home almost at the same time.
I: Are there any tips that helped you strike a balance?
F: I told myself I couldn’t kill myself. If I wanted to go to school, I’d go. If I weren’t feeling like it, I would stay at home. I wouldn’t die before my time just because I wanted a degree.
I: This life na jeje. Any piece of advice/hope that you’d like to share with other single mothers out there?
F: Forget the stigmatisation. You’re not an outcast, neither are you suffering from a highly contagious disease. If you have a dream, keep pushing. Surround yourself with good people, people that will genuinely come through for you if you need help. Be hardworking. Whatever it is your hands find themselves doing, do it well. Never leave out the place of God, he is still in the business of coming through, and he always will.
I: Wow! Thank you so much. Thank you for sharing your story with me. I’m honoured. Give my love to your baby boy.
F: You’re welcome; it’s my pleasure. Regards to your baby as well.
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