‘There is happiness at the top of the hill, you just need to get there.‘
I just wanted to say very quickly, Allahumabarik to all that you ladies have achieved in such a short amount of time. Everyday at work someone is talking about the dilemmas at lunch on the sister guide. This is a beautiful thing you both have done here and I thank you both for it. I don’t get the opportunity to share my life with people, or my lessons. For most of us Somali girls we are taught to keep things private and to hide things from one another. Not sure why that is. One thing I have learnt in my life is that you need community. So here is my story.
I think my first day of adulthood truly started for me at 18. In the summer that year my family said It was time to go back home, and back then I was really excited. A lot of our family had lived in Xamar so I was excited to visit back there. Of course we ended up staying there for 4 months and during that time a lot had happened.
There was a family friend who had lived near us, and I had remembered him from the first time I visited Xamar. To cut a long story short, we got very close. He used to send me poems and was never short of giving me all the proclamations of love a girl could want. Needless to say he was really convincing. He used to tell me stuff like ‘I never want to come to England this is my home’. But he had been playing such a smart game. Our relationship crossed a boundary and we had to get married.
When I think about how fast the ceremony went, and how quickly my girlhood passed me by, I want to cry. For some reason I was excited back then. I actually wanted to get married. Not once did I think to just sit back and take a second to really think. I just thought this man loved me and I him. When I look at it now I see him as a tuug (thief). He was stealing my life from me.
Flash forward a few months later, I got sick and had to return to the UK. At this point I still had my period so my family were very sure that I was not pregnant. I had severe sickness and diarrhoea. We were convinced that it was Malaria or some other serious illness. We returned to the UK and whilst at the hospital we quickly learned that I had hyperemesis gravidarum, and was indeed pregnant. Wallah o billlah when I found out my heart sank to my stomach. I was not ready to be a Mum, I was only 18. I tried to convince myself that I was okay, but part of me knew I had ruined my life.
My parents immediately started the plans to bring this man over. But remember I told you he was so firm in his stance about never coming here. To my shock, when my parents told him the news the first thing he said was ‘That’s it then! I have to be there!’. He was so eager but he never mentioned the pregnancy not once.
It still didn’t hit me at first. I thought his excitement came from wanting to be a Father and a Husband to me. I don’t want to implicate myself by explaining how he got here, but by the end of my 2nd trimester, he was here. My family covered everything. By this point I was burning to see him. My first trimester had been exceptionally harsh to me but what got me through it was thinking of him. How my Husband would protect me and look after me whilst I was sick. Just like I had imagined it. I had even refused to find out the gender until he was here. I was so lonely. Most my friends had turned 19 and at 19 who wants to spend their days hanging around with a baby mum? The loneliness was so cruel to me but my patience and eagerness for him got me through it.
When he came back, he seldom spoke to me. The first thing he did was decide to live with his extended relatives. It didn’t make sense to me but he assured me it was because he wanted to settle in and have his own space. Then days went by, he still had not seen me. 2 weeks after he landed in the UK he came to visit. I was surprised at how he dressed. Not saying that I was expecting a farax (freshy) but this man looked as if he had lived here his whole life. He had a trim, a new phone everything. When we spoke it was very awkward and as if he didn’t want to be there. He only mentioned the baby once after I spoke about finding out the gender. He made a joke about wanting a boy but I didn’t think much of it.
I didn’t see him again for 3 weeks until my next scan. His cousin brought him to the Hospital because he was not familiar with the area. This man had smelt of a wet dog laced with weed and cigar. I was so embarrassed. During the scan we found out the gender and Alhamdulilah it was a Girl. My Husband was so disappointed, he let off a sigh as though he had lost a football match. Afterwards he joked around and said he will try again for a boy. We never tried again btw.
Months passed by and I barely saw this guy again. He did not even attend the labour. Or came to me after I gave birth. I was devastated and suffered so badly from PPD at one point I said I wanted to die. I spent every night nursing a new baby and crying. Everything had finally hit me when I had my baby. Only then did I realise how stupid I was, how naïve. This man used me to come to this country. And I was dumb enough to put his name on the birth certificate, which also helped him during his asylum application. He was barely in our lives and when I turned 20, he had married a 2nd wife who was a divorcee that had kids of her own. He jokes to people that he is using her to have a roof over her head. I asked for my divorce and he gave it to me in a heartbeat. This man was waiting to get rid of me. I felt so disgusted at how he chewed me up and spat me out.
And then there was me, spending most my early twenties caring for my beautiful daughter. When she was 3, I went back to University to start my degree. The Divorcee stigma stuck with me for a long time. I saw my friends going out, getting spoiled whilst guys barely wanted to talk to me because I had a daughter. Every guy I spoke to ditched me the second they heard I had a daughter. It made me resent my life, and hate myself for making such terrible choices. Until one day all my prayers were answered.
I was finally put on a blind date and I was set up with a another Divorcee. He had been divorced for 2 years and he was a lot older than me. At this point I was 24 and he was 31. At first I was weirded out by the fact he had an ex wife. But who was I to talk? Not only did I have a husband, I had a whole kid. We went out to Tinsel Town for our first date and could you believe that was the only date I had ever been on. We got on so well, he was making me laugh the whole night. And for a moment I forgot what it was like to be just a Mum. I knew the time was coming to tell him I had a daughter and I was dreading it. I felt like he would have dropped me in a second. When I told him the first thing he said was Mashallah and then continued to ask me more about my daughter. And then to my shock he said ‘maybe I will get to meet her one day’.
That was 8 years ago, and we have been married for 6 of those years. I laugh at myself when I think about how defeated I was. I was convinced I would never find love. I would never remarry, and that it would just be me and my daughter. I had given up on life.
وَيَمْكُرُونَ وَيَمْكُرُ اللَّهُ وَاللَّهُ خَيْرُ الْمَاكِرِينَ
Allah is truly the best of all planners. It is not just us. Its my daughter, him and our beautiful son. When my daughter turned 12, he legally adopted her and signed all the papers. He is her father and he is the best father in the world. We both have such promising careers and we are able to give our children the lives they never had. Finally I have the dream I used to pray for.
I wanted to share this story because I remember how lost I had felt. I had given up on the power dua and I knew there was no happy ending for me. I thought my life was ruined because of the mistakes I made when I was 18. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. I live such a beautiful life Alhamdulillah and I could not be more grateful.
I hope this story brings hope to the women out there who are facing a similar situation. There is happiness at the top of the hill, you just need to get there.