June 17, 2024

My name is Halima Muhammad. I am from Azare, Bauchi State. I am 26 years old and I would like to share my #DivorceDiaries with you.

I was married to my husband (Kamal Usman) for a little over 6 months. Sometimes I’m even ashamed of how fast our marriage crashed. I met Kamal at an event in Abuja popularly known as DMP or Designers Market Place which holds every first Saturday of the month. I was at the food stands buying suya, with an acoustic band playing nearby. I was grooving to the music when he caught my eye.

He smiled at me and I smiled back, but I was wary of all these fine Abuja guys. He was tall and handsome. I had seen and heard enough of Abuja guys and as an Abuja babe myself I could easily spot one. Well dressed, handsome and charming… Those were the signs of deadly Abuja boys. So I quickly took my gaze off his face. And as the day progressed I caught myself having eye contact with him several times. He walked up to me while I was bargaining to buy a pair of beautiful Aldo heels but they cost like 30 k which is money I didn’t have. I ignored him and continued my bargaining until he cleared his throat and said the lady should pack the shoes then he handed her 50k,clean crisp 500 naira notes Hmm..Then he turned and said: “now that I have your attention,may I know your name?”.


I smiled and told him my name was Halima. He said “no that can’t be right” looking puzzled I replied: “what?”.”I came over here because I thought you were Mrs Kamal Usman because the shoes are for Mrs Kamal Usman” Inside my head I was like ”who is this shameless agbaya that wants to use boyz II men logic on me mchwww”. Then he said:”well miss halima Allah ya sa rabon ki ne takalmin.. This is my card, I need you to call me when u see Mrs Usman,Thank you”.then he just walked away just like that. Leaving me hanging with my mouth wide open. He didn’t even let me say thank you mchwww. As I looked at the card I found out that he was a team lead at NLNG. An Engineer by profession. I battled back and forth whether to call or not for a week and a week later I finally called. He was warm and friendly and thanked me for finding Mrs Usman for him,he was funny too. We talked and talked and talked and talked and laughed,we clicked instantly. I liked him. There is Only one problem, as an Abuja babe I had my almighty sugar daddy who made life in this big city a little bit comfortable. Kamal had told me that the moment he met me he knew I was “the one”. He seemed serious and his gifts were never ending. I couldn’t possibly give up my sugar daddy for a guy I just met ai. So I decided to milk Kamal for his worth since he seemed serious.


I dated Kamal for two months and he asked me to marry him. He wanted to send his people to ask for my hand in marriage and I agreed, I stupidly agreed. I was steady still seeing Honourable aka Zaki my powerful sugar daddy and I didn’t think anything of it. While my wedding preparations were ongoing, I continued seeing Honourable Zaki three times a week for some fun and cash. I even told him that I was getting married and he congratulated me kuma he even gave me money to prepare for my wedding. My wedding was a grand affair with Kamal doting over me. All my friends were jealous of how in love my groom was with me. A wedding video of my groom dancing his heart out at the wedding dinner even went viral, I was a lucky girl. After enjoying a beautiful honeymoon in Tanzania we came back to Nigeria. We lived in Bonny Camp. And so I settled into life on Bonny Island with my husband sometimes working night shifts. These night shifts allowed me to talk and Skype with Honourable Zaki. Even though my husband was almost perfect, I missed the exciting times with Zaki. I missed Zaki so much now in retrospect I see how truly stupid I was.


About 5 months after we got married. I woke up in the middle of the night with severe abdominal pain and I was rushed to the hospital. The doctors on call quickly realized I was in labour. But how could I be in labour? After just 5 months, you ask. Let me explain. I discovered I was pregnant around the time Kamal wanted to send his people. I wasn’t worried because we had our ways. My friend Farida took me to a malam who specialized in Kwantar da ciki. She advised me against abortion since I was soon to b bride. We paid the malam 100k to do his work. Kwantar da ciki essentially freezes the development of the foetus,till the mother is ready. As I struggled through labour pains, I thought of my poor husband. What would I tell him? And my family? I prayed that Allah would take my soul. Let me just die. Death would be the best thing that would happen to me. After about 19 hours in intense labour pain, I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. I felt none of the joy women speak about after childbirth. I begged the nurse not to tell my husband of my birth, I told her I wanted to throw away the baby but she ignored me. Kamal had already been informed that I was in labour said the nurse. At that moment I knew I was finished. Completely finshed.Later Kamal calmly walked into my room at the hospital. He looked at me as if he was going to kill me. I didn’t know what to say or do,”Congratulations”. That’s all he said. He kept an Air ticket to Abuja beside me and just like that he was gone. After all I had done to conceal this pregnancy my shame had come to light! What would I do now? Na shiga uku, I left for Abuja the next day. I couldn’t even bear to look at that baby. All I was thinking of was Kamal. My Kamal.


On reaching home I was met with hisses and cold shoulders. Nobody wanted to even look at me and my bastard child. In the evening my father asked me to leave his house. He called a family meeting and my brother offered to adopt the baby. I begged and begged and begged but to no avail. It was decided,I was to leave as soon as I was strong enough. Kamal came to see my father after about 2 weeks. I heard he had even fainted when the doctors told him I was in labour, Poor Kamal. He gave my Father my divorce letter, Saki uku gabadaya ba hope. I felt like I had been stabbed with a hot knife. I had lied and deceived the man who treated me like a queen. A true gentleman. How could I be so stupid? Not a single day goes by that I don’t regret my actions. When my son grows up what will I tell him?


Thank you for reading my #DivorceDiaries. I hope it will touch someone’s heart to be wise, grateful for who they have and God-fearing.


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Names have been changed to protect the identity of the narrator and other individuals in the story.


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