I asked God for a boyfriend, and He gave me family instead My father died when I was four years old. Because I didn’t understand death, it didn’t hurt all that much. All I knew was that the man who used to offer me chocolate bars wasn’t there anymore.
My mother was the only one with whom I had a strong bond. And she was always available to me. So I was fine.My mother did not let the fact that she was widowed deter her from giving us the best life she could. She did everything she could to ensure that my older brother and I had a normal upbringing.When she realized she couldn’t meet our needs, she would tell us to pray. “God is the father of the fatherless, so he will take care of us,” she said. “Let’s pray,” she’d say at every turn. “God will supply.”I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I knew there was a man named God who gave my mother things to give to us. That’s how Mom instilled in us a fear of God.Our family did reasonably well until I was nine years old. I’ll always remember that age as the point in our life when everything changed.My mother was the type of woman who was never in bed before 6:00 a.m. So I knew something was wrong when I awoke late at night to see my mum still in bed.The muffled sound of her tears prompted me to rush to my brother. “God, please assist me,” she kept pleading. I’m not going to die and leave my children orphans.”My brother, who was also a child, had no notion of how to assist my mother. I was afraid the worst might happen because she was so unwell.Fortunately, our neighbours stepped in and rushed my mother to the hospital. They looked after her while she was there till she recovered and returned home. We were overjoyed that she was okay. But my mother was no longer as fit as she once was.My mother was one of the toughest ladies I knew before her illness. She possessed not only physical strength but also a strong will. My father’s family wanted to take our house away from us, but my mother stood up to them and won.Aside from them, there were folks in our neighbourhood who frequently fought and lost against her.This earned her the moniker “Akosua Tutugyagu,” which translates as “Akosua Troublesome.” She thought her illness was a spiritual attack because of her problems with these people. So she went in search of spiritual protection.She was a devout Christian who regularly attended church. It got to the point where she informed her sister she wanted to go camping in a church for a time. “If you’re going to camp in the church, bring your daughter,” my aunt advised.My mother stated that she would rather go to church alone in order to avoid interfering with my education. I eavesdropped on their chat and overheard it. Nobody told me when my mum was scheduled to go to church.I came home from school one day to find our house deserted. My brother was in high school at the time, so his absence seemed understandable. It belonged to my mother.When I inquired about her whereabouts from our neighbours, they replied, “Your mother went to church.” She’ll be there for a while.” I was fortunate to have one of our neighbours call her so I could speak with her. “Don’t worry,” she remarked when we chatted.I’ll be home by next week to help you celebrate your birthday. I was overjoyed and full of expectations. The next day at school, I informed all of my classmates that my mother would be throwing me a birthday party.I prayed for my mother’s recovery all night long. So a week passed, and I sat at our door, waiting for her to return. I craned my neck every time I heard footsteps, but none of the people passing by was my mother.“Maybe she’ll come home for my birthday,” I reasoned. So I waited for my birthday, which came and went, but my mother was nowhere to be seen.All phone attempts to reach her had been useless. While we waited for her to return home, we kept trying her phone. We became concerned after two weeks.My brother was compelled to come home from school so that he could look for my mother. He returned from the church with our mother’s stuff but not with her. He said that she did not find him there.Others at the church stated she was there for a short time before leaving. They were unable to tell us where she had gone. So my brother went to the police station and reported a missing individual.Police say they discovered her remains in the morgue some days later. Nobody informed me of what had happened to her. They didn’t even want to inform me she was no longer alive.When I realized that everyone was dressed in black, I knew I had to figure it out. When I asked them, “When is my mother coming home?” they wailed. When they eventually told me my mother had died, I felt as if I had lost all of my limbs.I cried until I couldn’t anymore. I was eleven years old at the time, so I understood what death meant. And the more I considered it, the more empty I felt. I was even certain that if I cried long enough, I would be able to join my mother.I had no notion the last time I saw her would be the last time I saw her. I last heard my mother’s voice on the phone, and I knew it was our final discussion. To say I was broken would be an understatement. I was really lost.I had to go live with my aunt after the funeral. No one took in my brother because he was old enough to be on his own.My aunt had to take me in since I was too young to be left in his care. Staying with my aunt made my mother’s death even more agonizing.My aunt was cruel. Her brutality was so great that I thought I’d be better off with my mother in the next world. So I did things that were supposed to kill me, but I ended up surviving.The school was the one bright spot in my life at the time. I had pals who cared about me and teachers who liked me over there. The school offered theatre, dancing, and chorus clubs. I attempted to join one of the clubs, but I couldn’t sing or dance.I also understood I was incapable of acting. I was about to give up when I learned about the poetry group. I am quite expressive, so recitals would be easy for me. Because I can write well, I began penning my own poems.We were practising for an event, but I didn’t get a poem to read. When I objected, our teacher challenged me to compose my own poetry. As I sought to create a poem on death, I prayed to God for insight.I wasn’t sure the poem was good until I read it on the occasion. That moved many people, including the owner of one of our community’s schools. The school’s owner provided me with a scholarship to attend his school from fifth grade till I finished JHS.This scholarship opportunity alleviated my aunt’s hardship, but it was insufficient to win her love. I tried my hardest to please her, but my mere presence usually put her in a foul mood. “Don’t expect to advance your education,” this woman informed me as I was writing my BECE.I’ve already done enough for you. I can no longer accommodate you.” I was determined to reach the heavens and make my mother proud, so I didn’t let her get to me.I packed my belongings and returned to my mother’s place as soon as I finished my last paper. I stayed there with my brother, who was looking for nursing school chances with the rent he earned from the tenants.He was just trying to make my mother’s dream of him becoming a nurse come true. While I waited for my results, I began selling credit transfers in order to save money for SHS. And for the first time since my mother’s death, I felt at ease.When the free SHS policy was implemented, luck was once again on my side. I believed God inspired legislators to enact such a program so that I and other orphans in the country may attend senior high school.I was contemplating what I would need for school when a relative suggested that I pack my belongings and move in with my mother’s elder sister. Is there another aunt? I cried till my eyes turned bright red.I sobbed as I remembered all that had happened with my mother’s younger sister. I couldn’t bear the thought of going through it all over again, but what option did I have? I had no choice but to go to her.She has a younger daughter and an elder son. Her daughter became a buddy of mine, and her son became my new older brother. They were nice to me, but I was too terrified to get comfortable with them.My previous encounter had left me scarred. My aunt’s lone rule was, “Don’t talk to your brother again, or I’ll stop taking care of you.” Do you know he treated your uncle badly? I don’t want him to have a negative impact on you.” She expected me to sever my only sibling? Her rule made me tread carefully around her.When school started, I made friends who were a source of comfort to me. As a result, I considered school to be my safe haven. Yet I never got acclimated to my aunt enough to feel at ease at home.Thus, whereas other kids wanted to stay at home rather than attend school, I was glad to be there.My aunt felt that I was often anxious at her home, so she sent me to live with another of her sisters in Kumasi. And I felt quite at home because communication was simple and free.Academically, I excelled. I excelled in practically every topic in class. My aunt was pleased, so she purchased me a phone.My life began to make sense again. I was even pleased. Then, when I went to SHS 2, I realized how much I missed my brother. So I got his phone number from my aunt and dialled it. I was already in the boarding house, and the next day was a visiting Saturday, so my brother offered to pay me a visit.I was so overjoyed that I completely forgot about my elder aunt’s warning. I even called the woman and informed her that my brother was going to pay me a visit at school. She pretended to be normal, but she was in pain.She informed everyone about my alleged betrayal. When I returned home for the holidays, my younger aunt insulted me in front of her small children. That day, I sobbed a lot. It did not stop there.“Take your belongings and depart,” she replied after criticizing me. You disobeyed the person caring for you, so you are no longer her responsibility. I, too, am incapable of caring for you. As a result, you must depart.”I wiped my tears, collected my belongings, and returned to my mother’s house in Obuasi. “What type of destiny did I bring into this world?” I wondered that day. “Why does everything appear to be conspiring against me?”My brother assured me that he would look after me when I returned home. In January of the following year, he travelled to Kumasi and got work in the construction industry. He didn’t make enough money to meet both of our requirements, but he always sent us money, which I managed the best I could.After some time of struggle, I went to God and requested a boyfriend. I thought having a boyfriend would help my financial situation.I was seventeen years old, young enough to attract older guys as well as lads my age. I could have said yes to any of the thirsty men that approached me, but I wanted a good guy. So I begged God to make the decision.I got a lover two weeks following my prayer. He resided on Cape Coast, so we were introduced by a mutual acquaintance. He had a decent job that paid handsomely. And he was quite generous. He was literally a gift from God.He always sent me money for school, so I urged my younger brother to save the money he was about to send me. My boyfriend became a member of my family. He lived far away, but he treated me as if I were his younger sister.Even after quitting his job to complete his degree, he found a means to support me. He would contribute his money to my brother, and together they would see that I finished SHS.My grades were great. And I reminded myself, “Now is the time to make Mama proud.” I did not pursue journalism as she desired, but I did decide to become the nurse my brother could not become.Fortunately, I was accepted to nursing school. And I’m relieved that my boyfriend and brother are looking after me. I believe God sent my lover my way because he knew my brother couldn’t do it alone.As my mother taught me, God is the father of the fatherless. My life has been terrible, but God has been with me every step of the way. When things went bad, I used to cry and question him.My life has been challenging, but God has always been there for me. When things went wrong, I used to scream and doubt him, but now I realize I was wrong.God never left me alone. He saved my life when I was about to end it, and he has always found a way for me to be cared for.Now, I am not presenting my story solely to retell my life’s sorrows. I’m sharing my story to inspire anyone who is struggling to keep going.God will take care of you as sure as the sun rises. If you count your blessings, you will find that God has always been with you. Therefore trust Him and persevere through your tribulations.-Eunice
