The following personal story was narrated to The Weight She Carries Contributor Ivy Chibanda.
Growing up, I always envisioned my wedding day. How beautiful I would look in white, and how I would live happily ever after with my imaginary man. We would have four children, I always thought – two boys and two girls, and live a good life in a nice suburb.
I thought it would turn out exactly as I had dreamed. I had no respect for unwed mothers. I always thought they were promiscuous. Little did I know I would become a single mother…of three, with three different men.
At 17, I met a handsome man. He was well in his thirties and drove a posh car. I soon fell in love with him.
I remember the day he honked his horn at me. I was with three of my friends, and when we all turned, he called for me. I felt special. I went to him and he asked what my name was. Then he offered to take me home. Although I was close to home, I agreed and asked if my friends could come, too.
My friends jumped in and I felt on top of the world as I directed him to their homes. We dropped them off at least a hundred metres away from their homes since their parents wouldn’t have been amused if they knew my friends had been dropped off by a man in a car.
Phillip* was his name. He told me he liked me and as a teenager, I fell hard for him. I felt I had achieved a lot at that moment. He gave me money which I used to buy makeup, although my mother disapproved.
He lured me into sleeping with him, and as fate would have it, I fell pregnant. I didn’t know what to do and I was confused. I wore big sweaters even when it was hot to conceal my growing belly, but eventually my mother noticed.
My parents were disappointed. They had sent me to the best schools and had high expectations of me, but this was how I paid them back. We weren’t even poor – we had a comfortable life, so I don’t know why I fell for all the nice things Phillip bought for me.
My aunt came and escorted me to Phillip’s house. He wasn’t happy about (the pregnancy) but luckily, he didn’t refuse to take responsibility and took me in. We went home and he paid a few hundred dollars for my bride price.
At 17, I became a wife…with no idea of how to be a ‘good’ wife. Phillip was a divorcee and had two kids already. One was 15, the other was 10. To get back to his ex-wife, he demanded that his children come and stay with him since he had now re-married. I became a step-mother to a step-son who was just two years younger than me, and a step-daughter who was six years my junior. It wasn’t easy. They saw me as a young girl who had replaced their mother. It was hell.
By the way he treated me, it seemed Phillip had never loved me. Sometimes he wouldn’t come home until the next morning, and when I would ask where he had been, he would ask what I owned in the house that gave me the right to ask him about his whereabouts. I was distraught.
I would cry myself to sleep every night. Eventually I went back home and my parents helped me raise my child.
I couldn’t just sit at home and do nothing, so I started doing random jobs to raise money for my school fees so I could earn a diploma. I worked hard and passed, and I managed to rent a one-room apartment for me and my daughter.
I started dating another man who told me he was single and lucky to have found me. It was me he wanted to marry. I fell for it, and again, found myself pregnant.
I couldn’t visit my parents and it was difficult to tell them I was pregnant again. This man was supportive at first and promised that I would soon move in with him. All I had to do was wait for him to sort things out so he could pay my bride price and take me in officially. One day, he told me he was going on a business trip to South Africa and he would be back for me. To this day, I haven’t heard from him.
I swore I would never trust a man again and I vowed to raise my children alone.
Five years later, I met another guy. He never lied to me, I knew he was married. He was rich and offered to take care of me without asking for anything in return. My life began to change bit by bit. I fell in love with him, and again, I fell pregnant.
For the first few months, he wouldn’t hear of it. He was not willing to take care of the child and I struggled alone with the help of my family. As luck would have it, my son looked exactly like his father. So eventually, the man took responsibility. Maybe it was because he is a boy, and his wife only has girls. I don’t know if he would have reacted the same way had I given birth to a girl.
That is how I became the other woman. He came to me at a time I was struggling, and honestly, I couldn’t raise three children alone. I really needed his help. I have come to accept that my dream of becoming married was all just a dream that will never came true.
Single mothers aren’t treated with respect. People judge us before they know our story, so I decided to buy myself a ring which I always wear on my ring finger. Whenever there are discussions about families, I refer to my father’s child as my husband because I want to fit in.
I never wanted to be the “other” woman but circumstances led me to become one. I couldn’t have managed on my own. I needed help since the other two men deserted me. I have to stand strong and act independent, but sometimes the burden is just too heavy.
I do feel bad for the wife of the father of my youngest child, but sometimes I console myself by remembering it was him who seduced me. I do feel bad, though.
*Names have been changed.
