My name is Aba, and I am a 28-year-old woman from a small village in Kumasi. I grew up in a devout Christian family, where my parents meticulously planned my life.
They envisioned me becoming a lawyer and ultimately taking over my father’s legal practice. Although I respected their wishes, my heart was set on becoming a fashion designer. I initially planned to complete law school and then pursue fashion design as a side hustle. However, life took a tragic turn one fateful day when I was raped by two masked men in our village while visiting my grandmother.
The experience shattered my world, and after confiding in my parents, they quickly reported the incident to the police. Despite their efforts, the trauma lingered, and it became even more complicated when I missed my period. When I shared the news of my missed period with my parents, they took me to the hospital for various tests, including a pregnancy test.
The results confirmed that I was a month pregnant. My father was devastated and insisted that I abort the pregnancy, but despite his persistent pleas, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. In a desperate attempt to protect my unborn child, I fled to Accra.
Life in Accra
Accra was a harsh and unforgiving place. I had no home, no shelter, and no support. I spent nights sleeping in front of shops, in kiosks, and sometimes even on the pavements. To survive, I worked as a head porter, carrying goods for people in the market. Then fate intervened.
One day, while carrying goods, a man noticed my situation and decided to help. He introduced me to his wife, who showed me the kindness I had longed for and offered me money, inviting me to visit their home.
Desperate for stability, I accepted a job as a house help, but soon my hope turned to fear. The man of the house began making unwelcome advances toward me, crossing boundaries I had never imagined. When I confided in his wife, hoping for protection, she accused me of trying to destroy their marriage.
Feeling betrayed and alone, I fled their home again, with nowhere to go and a growing belly as a constant reminder of my challenges. Life became a daily struggle. I found myself begging for food, and my growing stomach only intensified the fight to protect the life inside me.
Then one day, a kind woman selling provisions at the market noticed my desperation and offered me an opportunity to turn my life around. She gave me goods to sell, allowing me to keep the profits. I worked tirelessly, saving every cedi I could, and eventually had enough to start my own small business.
Against all odds, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. The woman’s generosity didn’t stop there; she offered me a place to sleep in her shop, providing me with the stability I so desperately needed to focus on my future. With my savings, I enrolled in fashion school, determined to learn the skills necessary to provide a better life for my son and me. It was there that I met a man who would change my life. He was a regular customer of my boss and quickly became my boyfriend.
To my surprise, he showed me respect; even when I tried to be intimate, he insisted we wait. After I graduated, he invited me to visit him in Kumasi, and I had no idea what he had planned. When I arrived, I was speechless.
He had secured a large, fully furnished shop with the latest fashion equipment and had visited my parents to ask for my hand in marriage. We married shortly afterward. He wholeheartedly accepted my son, treating him with love and care that made outsiders believe they were biologically related because of the resemblance.
Our bond was truly tested when my son fell seriously ill and needed a blood transfusion. My husband’s blood type was a match, and without hesitation, he donated.
That day, I realized how blessed I was to have him in our lives. From the streets to owning my own business and from betrayal to finding true love, my journey has been fraught with challenges but also marked by kindness from strangers and the power of perseverance. My son and I found a home, a family, and a future I once thought was out of reach.
Until one day, I stumbled upon a TikTok video discussing DNA testing. As I watched, something clicked in my mind. Noticing the striking resemblance between my son and my husband, and knowing we both came from the same village, I decided to investigate further. After some inquiries, I went ahead with a DNA test.
To my shock, the results came back as a match. My husband is, in fact, my son’s biological father. Now, I’m left in turmoil, uncertain how to confront him about this startling revelation.
What should I do?