Dear Diary,

Marriage is one of the few reasons your African parents will forsake you. Try telling them you’re giving up on a failing marriage. That is when you’ll realize the part you play in their lives’ status game. Very few African parents will give in to losing face in society by welcoming back their daughter from a failed marriage. My case was not different.

My parents struggled with the idea of having a divorced daughter. Even after I assured them that I would not return to live in the family house, they worried about how the extended family and their friends would see them. A divorcee in the family? Tụfiakwa!

Unfortunately, they didn’t have long to resist the stigma. A few weeks after voicing my wish to end the marriage because of the HIV scare, Dozie stopped bringing money for our upkeep. He even moved out of the house and only came to see the kids occasionally. For Dozie, this was a way of punishing me for daring to mention divorce to him. He said he’ll like to see how I’ll survive on my own with two children.

At the time of his threat, my online business was barely generating any income and he was our sole financial provider.

At first, I thought he was joking. In a million years, I could never imagine Dozie to be the kind of man who abandoned his children. In my head, the kind, sweet and loving Dozie was still there somehow. His only problem was his inability to stop philandering.

Sadly, that Dozie was gone. This was a different man. A man who was willing to be wicked to his children, in a bid to punish me. The problem is, he’s not the only man capable of such wickedness. Many men go to great lengths to make sure their wives suffer if she dares to leave.

He also chose to move out when the house rent was about to expire. As I could not afford it, I resolved to move into a smaller house with the children.

I was very broke. I still am. No amount of mental preparation readied me for this kind of financial situation. I am constantly budgeting, evaluating and re-evaluating the things we need. There is no room for wants. It is a terrible situation. Everyday, I wake up fearing for my children and their future.

To solve the accommodation problem, a few of my friends rallied to make up the rent but it was still not enough. The disappointing thing about this period of my life is the people I had hoped to get support from. My closest friends fell short of expectations (not that I had so much to begin with). At the very least, I hoped for emotional support from them but all I got was prayers and needless advice. The mutual friends I had with Dozie chose to stay neutral. Only two of them outrightly condemned his behaviour and maltreatment of his children.

The night he packed out of the house, I asked a friend that lived close by to come and stay the night (I had never lived alone and this was the beginning of that experience). She never came and never called. Two days later, she sent a voice note saying that she was sorry for not reaching out earlier. She had been seeing a movie and fell asleep that night. The next morning, out of guilt, she couldn’t bring herself to call. I simply had no words.

One thing I have learned since my marriage ended is to have almost zero expectations from people. Whenever I get any support, it is usually a surprise because I make my plans with no outside support in mind. This has saved me a lot of extra heartache and disappointments.

Let me talk about the angels that came to my rescue when I thought I would go crazy from overthinking. I was still grieving the end of my marriage, the loss of my life partner, as well as juggling my new position as sole provider for a three-person household. All these were enough to drive a sane person crazy but somehow, I managed to keep it together (most of the time).

I prayed to God for strength. I needed it because my children need a sane mother. There were days I cried myself to sleep. It was very difficult to accept that this is now my life. Dozie and I had big dreams for our family. We had never gone on any of the family vacations we planned before we had our babies. We wanted to visit at least one country on each continent. That would never happen now. Instead, my children will grow up without their father. How was I supposed to accept this and just move on?

But in my lowest of low, I found a community (specifically three acquaintances turned friends). They heard of my predicament and reached out, individually. It was like they were instructed by God to be my emotional pillar because there were days I would have crumbled if not for their help. Their friendship is the biggest gift I have received in this period of my life.

Nevertheless, some days are still worse than others. My children aren’t fairing very badly, at least for now. Perhaps, because of their childishness, they are yet to grasp the absence of their father or I am the one who has not yet fully observed the impact it has made in their lives. Whichever it is, I hope we will be fine one day.

Today, I am not fine, but I know I will be. With time.

Till I pick up my pen again,

Ya diba!