I’m the absolute life of the party, but life thrust me into the worst scenarios I thought I’d quit this lifestyle, but again, it thrusts me back into it sooner rather than later. You can term me a local nepo-baby, because my father rubs shoulders with some of the influential people of this country and I can’t deny the privileges that come with it. I swim in them.

My dad secured me a six-digit salary job in a government parastatal soon as I graduated. Young, with close to zero responsibilities other than paying club bills, I immersed myself in the sherehe culture and lived for it. My friends and I were at every single festival, club launch or party around the nation, flying across the country to turn things up.

It was during these parties that I met my baby’s father, but then he was just close friends with my boyfriend. Paul my boyfriend had nothing on his name, other than the single room he owned deep in the slums of Mathare, where our love brewed. Our relationship was a typical Nollywood movie script; the poor humble guy that bags a rich girl who loves him regardless.

My parents could barely get a hold of me. I had exhausted every lie in the book and resorted to not picking up their calls to avoid overusing lies. I had saved some of my best lies though, for when they would come in handy. They did when I fell ill in Paul’s house and he had no money to get me to a hospital. I couldn’t call my parents, because they had been trying to get a hold of me about my truancy at work. The last thing I wanted them to know is I was in a man’s house, sick.

Paul tried to reach most of my ‘party friends’ like he used to call them, but there were either too busy or out of town for one reason or the other. None of them was willing to send a taxi or send him money to get me to a hospital. My parents were still paying for my medical cover, so all I needed was at least Kes 500 as fare to the hospital.

By that time of the month, I had squandered my salary and barely saved anything because there was never an emergency a quick call to my dad wouldn’t save. When Paul saw how frail I had grown, barely eating and speaking, he made the life-saving call. He called my brother, shared with him the address and told them about the bad situation I was in. My mother was adamant about coming to the slums that night, but my father insisted. If they had waited till the next day, I’d be history right now.

The first two hospitals we went to referred me to different hospitals because I was in critical condition. I was finally admitted to a hospital further away from our residential county but rest assured that the details of my sickness I will carry to my grave. That was the last I heard of Paul, maybe because I never went back to his house to check on him, or maybe because he decided that I was too much. Years later, he’s never returned my calls, texts and have never found him on any social media platform.

Derrick, my baby daddy is the only person out of the friend group that visited me after I was discharged from the hospital. Needless to say, the friend group died a natural death, as they never reached out since that time. Our love grew based on the fact that Derrick singled himself out as the real one. We were so happy and content that he proposed we take things to the next level after I shared the news of my pregnancy with him.

My parents suggested that we hold off the dowry payment plans until I delivered because tradition forbids the two from happening co-currently. Also, because they weren’t exactly pleased to learn that Derrick was one of the people in the now-disbanded friend group. We respected their wishes and knew that since a child was involved our parents would be left with no other choice other than to bless our union.

Our bouncing baby girl was born a few months later, surrounded by love and family. My parents were really proud of the reformed woman I had become. My father mentioned it always in our family meetings, ‘You all should turn a new leaf like Prisca’, he’d advise. But quite frankly, I think he just loved using the phrase, ‘turn a new leaf’ because he always threw it around.

My joy was rudely interrupted eight months later when I caught my boyfriend cheating with my younger sister. Yes, they had been sleeping together since the night they meet at the hospital, total strangers to each other but brewed an affair behind my back. I had my suspicions, but never in a million years did I ever imagine that my sister would be sleeping with husband to be.

My sister pretended to be remorseful while Derrick tried so had to reassure me that the devil had taken control of his life. I badly wanted to believe that the devil had booked their hotel rooms, bought them condoms and forced them to sleep with each other, but there are only so many lies you can take. My parents infuriated by my sister’s behaviour, indicated that it was proof enough I shouldn’t marry the father of my child.

It was hard to let go, we still hooked up casually, and I hoped that something magical would change my mind about him. The magic happened. I found out that the affair with my sister never ended, they just took a commercial break when they got caught and resumed when the red alerts were lifted. That was the magic, I confronted them both at our daughter’s birthday vacation when I walked in on them kissing.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked closing the door behind me. Derrick jumped to my side and held me then said, “Trust me it’s not her fault Prisca!”

“What do you mean? Please can you stop holding me?” I demanded trying to free myself. Janet, my sister had moved to the furthest corner of the room, staring at me blankly.

“I keep on pursuing her even though I know you are related. She’s such a good aunt to our daughter. I think I love her.” He said, almost in a whisper. I felt my heart sink and tears welled up in my eyes.

“Do you want to marry her? Huh?” I asked.

“If your parents allow me, yes.” He replied with a shaky voice.

“Janet, are you in on this?” I directed my eyes to her. She looked away in shame like she took pity on me because of the tears that flowed freely down my cheeks.

“I’m leaving with my daughter, let me go!” I screamed.

“We should talk about her first, she’s my daughter too.” He said, fastening his grip on my left arm.

“Don’t you dare! Let me go now!” I said fighting off his hands.

“Let her go! Derrick. Let her go.” He looked at Janet who nodded her head and eased his grip on me. He even listened to my younger sister now. Such a coward!

I later learnt that he was secretly planning to take my daughter away from me but there was a twist. He had already impregnated another woman, so my baby sister was just a pawn to him, to get access to my daughter and later on sue for custody. My sister was on the receiving end of my wrath for a while, until I met Derek, similar names, different pronunciations and spellings and he swept me off my feet. Maybe it’s time karma located my baby’s father or worse off, my little sister, they deserve a serving too.

Scratch that, he knew how to mend my broken heart and in two months of knowing each other, he had moved into my apartment and proposed marriage. But I should have known that rebounds will just be rebounds because Derek was an abusive monster I welcomed into the life of my daughter. He started by smashing my phone into a wall because I queried why his daughter’s picture was hanging on the wall. Then the second time, he squeezed my neck because he learnt that I had shared the incident with my older brother. He packed out the next week after I left for my parents’ house and they filed charges against him.

It’s been a year and some months now, and honestly, I feel; like I should have been single all along. I’m learning forgiveness for my daughter’s sake so she can enjoy her father’s love. I’ve temporarily closed the love and marriage segment of my life because it seems like Karma has been stuck at my address since and I feel like I’m a better woman now.

Check out

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Forbidden Love: I Fell For My Sister’s Baby Daddy – What She Doesn’t Know Won’t Hurt Her Right

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