Ex- Factor

For the first time in 6 years I saw my daughter's father. (I hate the term 'baby daddy', it seems too intimate for someone who is virtually a complete stranger.)  If it was shocking to see him after so much time, it was more shocking that he drove right beside me on the street where I live! As I stared at the car all the years of crystallized disappointment, anger, pain and hurt began to boil within me. I needed a seat.

The last time I saw him was at a pub in Ikeja, GRA, Lagos, in 2009. He had invited me there to talk about the pregnancy I had informed him about earlier. I was just about 2 months gone then, if memory serves me. I was very defensive because he had been quite rude and aggressive towards me prior to this meeting. The way he acted you would have thought I found his sperm and impregnated myself. He had been screaming on the phone when I said I had no plans to do anything about the pregnancy. Really yelling. Then he had broken the news that he denied earlier, which had led to his coming to my hotel room about 2 weeks before, which had led to my pregnancy : BUT I JUST GOT MARRIED! After that very rough time, there had been no communication until he called me to meet with him at that bar.

The meeting started off okay until he began to be rude again, asking me questions like what I wanted to do with a baby whose father was not interested,  why I couldn't just go on to live my life without him. I tried to be calm about everything, thanking God he had not much money so it wouldn't be said I wanted money from him, and even commended him for not denying responsibility. ' Of course I will do a DNA test!' he spat. At this point I became irritated. What more could you say after everything to question my integrity or my motives? If after all these years after everything, he thought that I was attempting to trap him, with a baby, for some undisclosed reasons, then there was nothing more to be discussed. As I left that place it became apparent to me how weak he had become and how strong I actually was.
 I would speak to him twice after that, once when I was a little over 6 months pregnant  and the second time when I had just given birth. Both times I was met with rudeness and rebuff. The second time actually, I had my mother call his elder sister who was so rude,shouting and screaming at my mother, that I felt ashamed of myself. As a consequence of that conversation he told me to 'come up with' a DNA test, as though it only required me to do it, knowing I could not afford it, and ensuring his unavailability.
Everything I had liked about him or even admired in him suddenly became non-existent. He was not a gentleman as I had assumed, and when push came to shove, knowing me for 8 years and all the things we did together were just the moves of a desperate man who wanted sex. (It reminded me of a statement by another ex- one who unfortunately passed away years later.  We had been dating during my NYSC years and there was a tacit agreement that it was over after my service, because of distance, time, his relationship back home, but mostly because , in retrospect, I was just ' fun while away'.  I didn't know this last bit until we met again, though. Somehow he tracked me down while I was in Lagos and invited me to his office. During the course of conversation he revealed to me how he had been telling his friend- who was in his office when I arrived- that he was surprised he still had feelings for me. I was shocked that the feelings were expected to have died. But that was typical me, the emotional hoarder.)

With hindsight, I know now that I was just a distraction for Alex (yes, his real name). If he ever took me seriously in the years I knew him it could only have been at the beginning of our 'relationship'. I however, remained jaded. Even when he began to visit me only at night, even when he stopped inviting me anywhere, even when he rarely called. I was insecure, inexperienced and in 'like'. I actually really liked him then. I thought he was so out of my league and was actually grateful for the attention and basked in it. Pathetic but true. That notwithstanding our relationship had nothing to do with monetary favours or even gifts.
In the 8 years I knew him he never gave me any money until the end, and then only because he wanted me to have and pay for an abortion. I went to visit him on my dime, bought him presents, generally took care of myself. He was doing quite well, in an excellent job so it wasn't a case of beginning from scratch with him. But if we went out and say, had drinks, he would pay. I remember once when he was very broke and he mentioned it to me in passing. I think he was having a hard time then. I offered him some money which he eagerly accepted; which was unusual because he was very proud. I had to drive far and wide until I found a branch of his bank to pay it into . That was the exact same amount he gave me to have an abortion. He returned the 'favour'.

The time I became pregnant I had moved into a dingy hotel as a temporary measure, until I was able to sort out my accommodation issues.( My landlord had decided to sell his house without warning and had sent the security guards away, and while we were still living in it, the new owners had begun pulling down the structure. ) One day I went to get something to eat at the aforesaid pub/ restaurant when I ran into Alex and a colleague of his. In retrospect it was an awkward meeting because I got the distinct impression that he was concerned about other things absolutely unrelated to me, and that at that point in time I was absolutely irrelevant in his plans. If I felt that way at that moment however, I most likely shrugged it off or put it down to it being one of the 'off' moments in our on-and-off relationship. Before he left he asked me very loudly to give him a big kiss. Like I was a child. He kissed me in front of his friends and left me with them. I took a cab back to my hotel room almost immediately after.
A few of my friends came to see me when they heard of my predicament and one of them, in the course of discussion informed me that his ex girlfriend had gotten married 2 weeks ago. He said he was shocked because ' if that girl can marry, anybody can marry'. I asked her name and alarm bells went on in my head because I knew that the first day I met Alex that name had come up somehow. I asked who she married and sure enough it was you-know-who. When he left I sent a text to Alex telling him married men do not go about kissing single girls in public. He called a few hours after asked where I was and came to my hotel room.

What followed afterwards marked the end of my life as I knew it. He explained to me that he was not married, that he had made this girl pregnant and so people expected he would marry her, hence the rumours. That this thing with this girl had been going on for a very long while , blah, blah, blah.   Funny enough, probably because the issues I was having had given me a little more grounding, I saw the whole thing for what it was; the end of our relationship. That did not prevent him from staying over in my room, or us from having sex. However, I began to have serious pains in my back and lower stomach (which were eventually diagnosed as a cyst and a fibroid) and out of fright he stayed two days with me in that dingy room. I must add here that he purchased the drugs and the morning after pill I took afterwards.

When it became public knowledge that I was pregnant, things began to fall apart for me. I was fired from my job, not for any reason other than the pregnancy, when it was 6 months gone, and I had to depend on my friends for accommodation. I was kicked out of the homes of these friends 3 times and coupled with that, finances became a major issue. It was a very, very dark time in my life. I thought so often of ending it all. And even 2 years after I had my baby I was still penniless and struggling...  But with my family's help  she has developed into this beautiful girl, 6 years later.
 I found out recently that I had been exhibiting symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and I was shocked and relieved because it explained my sudden change in character and attitude towards people, my inability to sleep, etc..

I have never really told this story in this much detail with this much objectivity but when her deadbeat dad drove past me on the street where I live, I thought it was time to purge those memories.

I leave karma to do my dirty work.