Introduction
Baby Mama in a Hijab– Farida tells her story about her struggles of being a single mother, and how she manages to defy the odds.
Chapter 1: Star Caller
“Good day. Please, am I speaking to Nana Asempa?” A soft voice spoke immediately when I received the call.
“Yes, yes. This is Asempa.” I tried to remain professional. Since the release of the famous blog post, I have been receiving endless texts and calls from readers who would like to tell their story. I assumed the caller was one of them.
I was not wrong. “I’m Farida. I have a story for you. I told a friend about how I would really love to tell my story as a single mother, and she told me about you. She told me you wouldn’t mince words.” The lady told me over the phone.
“I try my very best, Farida.” I assured her. “Would you like to tell me now?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind, Nana. Now would be the best time.” She told me. I was driving back to Accra from Amanfrom, and I was in the Aburi vicinity, so I parked at the Aburi Gardens, took out my notebook, and a pen so I could write down everything I needed to put the story together.
“I’m ready for you, Farida. Go ahead.” I said.
Chapter 2: My Son’s Father
“I remember my heels,” Farida said over the phone. “It was a black silhouette with a bow tie on the counter. I was seated on one of the lover’s benches at Rufus Green Park with crossed legs, waiting for my girlfriend, who was soon getting married. She wanted to go over some arrangements and pending items. I was 22 years old at the time, and I was excited that my friend had found someone she could call her own. I saw how dedicated she was to planning the wedding, and I was ready to help my friend at all costs.
So we met up once in a while so she could vent and make headway with preparations.
But that very day, Saturday, 26th January, 2019, my friend decided to turn up late. Nevertheless, I met the most noble man (well, I thought). His words were scented and sweet.
“Those are beautiful heels.” He said. I thought he was either trying to tease me or might just be feminine at heart, so I laughed.
“Are you gay, or you’re just teasing?” I asked him.
“Well, heels are not worn to parks, unless perhaps I’m missing something. Is there an event?” He asked, and I laughed again while shaking my head in response to his question. “No, there isn’t.”
“Is this seat taken?” He asked me.
“Well, I’m waiting for a friend, but for now, it’s not taken.” I told him, unaware that I was stepping into one of my worst mistakes ever.
He sat by me and continually laughed his way into my heart.
“I’m Saeed.” He finally introduced himself.
“Farida,” I said.
Saeed’s aunt was a well-known employee at Rufus Green Park. Hence, he spent most of his weekends in the park after a stressful week. He was doing his national service when we met. I was yet to complete my final year at the University of Professional Studies, Accra. From our conversation, I learned about his schedules and his aunty—well, it was one of the most beautiful conversations ever, but then again, not all that glitters is gold.
My friend showed up just at the climax of our conversation and interrupted our short but interesting conversation. Throughout my meeting with my friend, Saeed could not take his eyes off me. His eyes bore holes in my heart, and I couldn’t even pay much attention to my friend.
After my friend and I exhausted the reason for our rendezvous and were leaving, Saeed chased after me.
“Farida!” He called after me. “So, I was thinking: Perhaps we could talk more later?” He pulled out his phone, and I gave him my number.
Boy! He was my prince charming. He was everything I ever wanted. Saeed had all the right words and motivational speeches that got me drooling all over him. Most of his words got me to study during the night. He even stayed up with me while I studied.
“Remember that you can do all things. You’re unstoppable!” He would tell me.” Farida seemed to be in tears as she recounted her story.
“Hm. Nana, I felt as though Allah had answered my prayers as I watched the most amazing human being tickle sensitive parts of my heart. I was excited. I was in love.” She added.
Chapter 3: Happy and Loved
“Saeed and I often conversed for long stretches over the phone, and he made a habit of taking nocturnal strolls to engage in our discussions freely. He invited me out on weekend outings regularly; hence, at Rufus Green Park, I was known simply as his “very good friend,” as that was how he introduced me. While he never explicitly asked me to be his girlfriend, his actions spoke volumes. His gestures, such as pulling out my seat and assisting with my belongings, coupled with the way he looked at me, conveyed a deep sense of connection. I didn’t even think of the ‘girlfriend’ title because I felt it. I felt like the woman of his dreams.
However, a weekend was coming when my life would completely change.
One lovely weekend, Saeed asked me to come over to his apartment because he had missed me. I took an Uber from campus to his apartment, and he paid for the ride.
He embraced me with every ounce of flesh on his skin and gave me a peck on the cheek. The furthest we had gone in two months was him rubbing my fingers and whispering words into my ears, which made me giggle.
“I’m continually stunned by your beauty.” He whispered. Those moments were great turn-ons, but that was it.
However, that hug and that peck were the only things I could think about when he opened the door to his apartment. Now, I was a lady in need of physical touch to feed my desires, so I teased him too. Despite being a virgin, a few movies I had watched taught me some tricks, and I believe my hormones made displaying those tricks much easier.
When he said something funny, I flirtatiously rubbed his shoulders and put my hand on his lap in a playful way. Then, I started playing with his ear lobes. There was no breathing space between us at one point, and that was when he leaned in and kissed me. The next thing I knew, we were naked, and Saeed was on top of me, breathing heavily, and I was moaning with ecstasy.
The ride to campus was silent but romantic. He held my hands and stole glances at me while he drove. “You’re all that I want.” He said and pecked me when the traffic light turned red.
How could this immersive love not sweep me away, Nana?” Farida rhetorically asked me.
“Saeed dropped me off on campus and then told me he had an amazing time.
“I really had an amazing time, too, Saeed.” I said, and returned the peck from earlier.
Chapter 4: My Lost Love
That night, Saeed and I went on and on about how amazing the sex was. “It’s amazing how your beauty transcends beyond just clothes. You’re more beautiful beneath those safaris.” He said to me. His words were the most beautiful ones. He always knew the right words to say. Saeed and I slept on the call that night. I woke up to his heavy breaths the next morning, and I smiled. “Allah has given me a wonderful young man,” I thought to myself.
I knew he was tired, so I ended the call, but that woke him up, and he called again. We spoke for a while, and then he told me to have a nice day.
“Have the most beautiful day, like the beautiful smile on your face right now and the gorgeous moans you gave out yesterday.” He teased me.
Unfortunately, those were the last words I heard from Saeed. If I knew that was the case, I’d never have left his apartment that weekend, and I’d never have made him cut the call that morning. I’d have asked that I stay on the call while we went about the day’s activities.
I called Saeed that same night, but it didn’t go through. I called him again and again, but the line kept dropping. The following day, I skipped lectures and attempted to visit his apartment, only to find it locked. I went to Rufus Green Park, but they told me his auntie had resigned a week ago. I was losing my mind.
For a month, I went to his apartment constantly, asked his neighbours or anyone I could find about him, and blew him up with texts on WhatsApp, IG, Snapchat, Telegram, and even his emails. I had missed lectures for weeks already, and my final examination was a week away.” Farida paused, heaved a sigh, and said what sounded like an Islamic recital. “I thank Allah for good brains, Asempa. I managed to write my final papers, despite my camouflage of a heartbreak and an unexpected fever that kept creeping in, which I attributed to missing Saeed.
However, a few weeks later, before my last paper, which was scheduled for 8 a.m., I threw up like I had been choked. I was nauseous for a while, but again, I managed to complete the last paper before the allotted time.
I visited the clinic to pick up some drugs, but they advised me to undergo several tests for a more accurate diagnosis. The clinical nurse looked at the results, which came back a few hours later, and told me I was four weeks pregnant. I laughed so hard.
Chapter 5: Pregnant
“I think you must be wrong.” I told her with so much confidence that I couldn’t be pregnant, but she only told me to calm down.
“Oh, I am calm, but you are wrong,” I told her. I couldn’t explain my emotions. For a moment, I was angry that I had forgotten about the consequences of sex, just because it was so good. I didn’t know whether I should remain sad about Saeed or be happy that I had something that sealed our love. I still loved him, but my parents—my parents were the last people to break such unwarranted news to. I was scared, furious, and confused. I mean, I was pregnant. I needed Saeed. I packed my bags and signed out of school after the unsettling news.
I had committed a grievous taboo, which could cause my parents to disown me completely. I had managed to keep myself, because I had seen how some of my cousins and friends were shamelessly thrown out of the Muslim community and their homes because they couldn’t close their legs. I let my guard down just once because of love, and suddenly there’s evidence of my grievous sin? I was scared. I was terrified.
On my way home, I tried Saeed’s number several times, but to no avail. I cried myself to sleep when I got home and dreamt about all the ways I could get rid of the baby. However, I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep the baby. My father, in particular, was not going to accept it, so the question was, ‘how?’
I didn’t join dawn prayers the next day, despite endless calls from my mother. When I woke up in the morning, I found her sitting on the sofa in my room. “Good morning,” she greeted me, and then I managed a smile so as to hide my grief. “Mualaikumsalam.” I greeted her, but she met me with a frown.
“So who’s responsible?” She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a stern look.
“Pardon?” I was confused.
“You were sleeping and talking yesterday. You said a lot of things, Farida! You better start talking!” She clamped her hands and shouted at me.
I shed tears and told her about Saeed—my fantasy of a man who flashed before my eyes.
“Allah! My daughter has brought shame to us! Ah! Ah! Ah!” She lost it. She took off her hijab and sat on the floor! Farida has killed me!” She wept.
That evening, she told my father. Then, I knew my days were numbered. My father was a renowned personality in the Muslim community. He didn’t want the disgrace. He tried looking for Saeed, so he would marry me immediately, but it was as though, just as my fantasy appeared, it had managed to disappear into thin air. That was when my father decided that I should get rid of the pregnancy, but I couldn’t.
“I can’t abort, Baba.” I pleaded.
“Then you would have to leave this house, Farida! I would have to disown you!” My father was furious.
I had vowed never to abort a baby because I had seen people suffer for just one child. He said he wouldn’t be able to bear the shame, so I either had to abort or be disowned and relocated.
Chapter 6: Blessing in a Shame
I chose the latter. My father sent me to a town far away from Accra. He sent me to a small town in the Western Region, gave me a huge sum of money, and bribed someone to offer me a good-paying job for my national service, despite my condition.
I rarely received communication from my mother, while my father largely abandoned me to my fate. It was as though Saeed had left me with misfortune. My friend was unaware of my struggles because, regrettably, I had little time for her after Saeed and I started talking. I almost missed her wedding, but I made it as long as I went with Saeed. I chose Saeed over her. So I had no friends, no family, no man of my dreams—just work and a human being growing inside of me.
I was pregnant during my national service, but I didn’t let that make me any less than my colleagues at the workplace. I gave everything I had. I was the most dedicated person in the IT department. I did my best to sail through, and many admired my zeal.
Nine months passed quickly, and I was due to deliver. I couldn’t take a full maternity leave as a service personnel, so I had to reiterate the efficiency of a remote job as an IT personnel. I had to become a workaholic mother. I had to make my own money to cater for my baby and myself. “I think you must be wrong.” I told her with so much confidence that I couldn’t be pregnant, but she only told me to calm down.
Chapter 7: Baby Mama
Just when I came out of the hospital, I was to resume work after two weeks, but thanks to the pandemic, work was mostly remote. However, I had an in-person meeting on the resumption date, and I had no idea where I was going to keep the baby. I was already running late from oversleeping because I had not had enough rest. I was awake all night due to my baby’s endless cries.
I mistakenly left the baby in the car and went for the meeting. For a moment, I forgot I was a single mother. I was presenting at the meeting when the alarm for my baby’s vitamins rang. I never knew I had the athletic drive in me. I ran out of the room shouting, “My baby, my baby!”
Fortunately for me, he hadn’t stopped breathing.
I was rotating through it all, feeding him his vitamins, giving him breast milk, feeding him breakfast, lunch, and supper, waking up in the middle of the night when he cried, meeting work deadlines, coming up with new innovations, and taking on new tasks. Being a single mother who faced abandonment from her family due to political and reputational issues wasn’t easy.
One Sunday afternoon, I was in the washroom taking a poop when I heard him crying. I sincerely thought he had fallen. I hurried from the washroom to his cot. I didn’t even wipe the poop off. I didn’t even wear my pants. I rushed out half naked and smelling of poop, only to find him crying because he had dropped his stuffed bunny and couldn’t pick it up.
Chapter 8: Superwoman
I had wowed my colleagues, my bosses, and management with my unwavering dedication to all assignments. They admired my good balance as a single mother and a national service personnel. They admired the innovations I brought on board, despite being new to the working environment. I was always willing to take on tasks and initiatives, so they decided to retain me despite being the mother of a newborn.
I had to sacrifice so much to have it all together. I could request days off and yet maximise more of my remote responsibilities so that I could take care of my baby when he was ill. There were days I had to hire a nanny I didn’t know to take care of my baby while I worked extra hours at the office. As an employee, I have won countless medals, coupons, and plaques—’Best Worker’, ‘Most Innovative’, you name it.
Despite all these awards, I made time for my baby. I took him for regular checkups and daily strolls, told him bedtime stories, and sang him some Islamic songs. I was doing well. I felt on top of the world, but there were no breaks for me. I was in full-play mode day in and day out.
Chapter 9: My Son
Two years ago, I woke up to the endless cry of my son. I tried comforting him with playful songs and his toys, but he just wouldn’t stop crying. I had a serious deadline to meet, had to make his breakfast, and at the same time schedule a meeting, which played a crucial role in earning me a good promotion and also pushed my company into a great pedestal. My head was literally spinning, Nana, and he wouldn’t just stop crying.
I placed him in his high chair and broke down in uncontrollable tears. After crying along with my son, he stopped crying, and I remember finding it quite humorous that my cry made him stop, so I turned to prepare his pudding, but the next thing I remember was waking up to the smell of hospital beds and drips.
My mother was seated by my hospital bed, reciting Islamic prayers. That was when I realised I might have blacked out. “My son.” I immediately said.
“It’s fine. You’re fine. Your son is fine.” My mother said.
“What happened?”
“Farida, you collapsed at home for two whole days. It had to take a colleague from work to call on you at home for you to receive good treatment. My daughter, if you were finding it difficult, you could have reached out. After all, you’re the only daughter I have.”
“Mhm, ma. Not today. I told her. You watched your husband disown me.”
“See, I am here. You can move back home. I’m your twenty-four-hour nanny at no cost.” She raised her hand as a sign of a promise, and I smiled at her.
My father walked into my room and apologised as well.
“I love you, my daughter.” He told me.
“I can’t go back home. I like it here. You can visit whenever you want to spend time with the baby, but I have built myself and my career over time. I am very much okay here.” I told them.
My parents currently visit the Western Region to enjoy the comfort of my three-bedroom house with a serene porch and my son’s playful gags. They can spend over a month in my house, and there will be a total reduction in my full play mode. I am barely thirty years old, with a house of my own and a good role as Deputy Head of IT in the company I currently work for.
Chapter 10: Proud Single Mother
I’m currently on a work sabbatical, enjoying the beautiful scenery in the world while focusing on new ways of being an IT guru and a model single mother. My mother takes care of my son while I work and go on vacations. I’m even planning on furthering my studies so I can earn a seat on the company’s board. Being a single mother is a truly tremendous task, Nana.” Farida sounded quite cheerful at this point.
“It’s a blessing to be a mother, but not having someone—a community, a friend, or a partner—to share this blessing with could be a burden. I might not have been ready for it, but actually, no one is ever ready. Some people are willing to embrace the thought, the idea, and the blessing, but no one is ever ready for motherhood—especially a career-inclined single mother.
I’m glad I have a good support system now. I also thank Allah for such strength to go through all of this, despite the fact that I brought shame to his name and religion.” Farida was concluding, but I had one pending question in my mind.
“So, Farida, what happened to Saeed? Did you ever find him?” I asked.
“Never, Nana Asempa. I never set my eyes on Saeed again. Perhaps this story will bring him to light wherever he is.” Farida said sharply. When Farida said this, all I could think about was, ‘Men are scam.’
“Nana, I have to go now. I have a scheduled FaceTime with my boy and his grandmother. I’ll keep in touch so that I can tell you another story when I complete my PHD and become the CEO of a multimillion company. I hope this story truly inspires your readers.” Farida quickly replied and hung up.
