I got pregnant as a teenager. He was the first man I ever knew in that way. He was the last born of three sons, yet the first to have a child. But instead of being proud, his family hid me and our daughter like a secret. I wasn’t introduced, acknowledged, or accepted. When I gave birth, it was my mom who paid the hospital bills. His family didn’t contribute, not even for the naming ceremony. On my baby’s 41st day, his elder brother visited unexpectedly. They hid me and my newborn at a neighbor’s house for three days. I eventually returned to my mom’s house to continue school. Any time I visited during holidays, they would tell people I was just a “friend’s daughter.” When my baby turned one, my friends threw a small party for her. I proudly posted her photo on Instagram with her father’s surname. The first son’s wife came across it, and that post exposed the secret. His family found out and drama started—they accused me of trying to destroy their home. His mother even told me not to call my daughter ‘Morenikeji’ because, in her words, “I have many grandchildren now.”
That day, my heart broke in a new way. How do you deny a child so deeply, even in name? After school, we faced accommodation issues, and I had to move into their house temporarily. I was working, feeding my child, leaving money for her food, and still treated like I didn’t matter. When it was time for school, I asked her father, but he said he didn’t have money. I paid for everything. Then he said she should drop out until he had money. I refused. It was mentally and emotionally abusive, so I left again. I started over. I enrolled my daughter in another school. Since then, he hasn’t contributed a single kobo. Still, I left her surname untouched, hoping one day he would change. In 2023, he messaged me saying he wanted to see her. I said no problem, “Let’s meet at Ikeja City Mall,” but he refused. He wanted me to bring her to his parents’ house, and I said no. He said if I wouldn’t bring her, he wouldn’t do anything, and he didn’t reach out again. In 2025, during Ramadan, he reached out again. I gave him one last chance and sent him her school bills. He promised to pay but never did.
When I followed up, he insulted me and said, “Am I the first person to raise a child alone?” He said even if he never supports his child, “God can’t pun!sh him.” I’m just tired mentally—my daughter’s school fees, graduation fees, and rent are around the corner. I’m changing my daughter’s name. She will no longer carry the name of a man who abandoned her and a family that rejected her. I have blocked them everywhere. He is not her father anymore. He is just the man who got me pregnant. I want peace for my daughter. I want her to grow up surrounded by truth, love, and dignity.
Also Read: Does He Truly Love Me?