The first time I met Tina was at a church service in Stuttgart. She was 33 years old, a little taller than me, with a caramel complexion, and in the process of regularizing her German residence permit. I was a guest at the christening of my friend’s baby, and Tina, who was also there, needed help with her child during the service. I stepped in to assist.
Our second meeting, a few weeks later at the picturesque Max-Eyth-See Grill Park, was when I made the first move. I sensed our mutual interest from the look in her eyes. But before proceeding, I inquired about the father of her child. She revealed that he lived outside Germany and that their relationship was no longer meaningful. With that understanding, we decided to stay in touch and exchanged phone numbers. The excitement of this new connection filled me with an overwhelming sense of joy and anticipation, the hopeful beginning of a beautiful journey filled with the promise of love and companionship.
At the picturesque Max-Eyth-See Grill Park, was when I made the first move
Two days later, my phone rang, and to my delight, it was Tina. Her call was a joy, a delightful surprise I had eagerly anticipated since our last meeting. Her voice was like a soothing balm to my soul, confirming our deep connection. She had hardly left my thoughts, and I was thrilled to hear from her. I did not call her first because I was careful not to pressure her or give myself false hope. My previous marriage to my ex-German wife, Claudia, had ended unexpectedly, and the challenges of that experience had left a lasting impression on me. As much as I wanted a new relationship, I was cautious about jumping into something unprepared.
From the moment Tina called, our affection for each other blossomed. We exchanged regular phone calls and visits. I was almost drowning in an ocean of love. We both wanted to settle down, so she moved in with me, and Tina’s presence filled my heart with comfort and happiness. With time, I visited her family back home in Nigeria and got to know them.
However, as our relationship progressed, she was under constant and immense pressure from her extended family back home for financial support. Her blood pressure rose rapidly as a result. I remember one day, she cried bitterly after a short phone call with her mother, who had hung up because she could not meet her demands for money. They bombarded her with endless financial stress and information about how one house or another in their neighbourhood was for sale at a price of millions of naira. I asked her why she could not make her people understand that she had not found her bearings in Germany.
I could not understand that her eldest brother was the only one of her five siblings married. The rest, including her older sisters, lived in a flat with their mother. None of them could afford the monthly electricity bill, let alone the rent. The responsibility for their upkeep fell to Tina, who struggled to make ends meet in Germany. Tina’s family situation was a heavy burden and a challenge to our relationship, a situation I’m sure many of you can empathise with. It was a constant source of stress and strain, testing our bond’s strength and ability to weather the storms that life throws us.
Added to all came the news that almost knocked me off my feet, she was pregnant! The joy and excitement that filled my heart at that moment were indescribable. It should have been a turning point in our relationship, a new chapter we could have both embraced. Instead, her attitude began to change gradually, a change that I couldn’t quite understand. One unresolved quarrel led to another. There was a noticeable depreciation not only in our relationship but also in my life. The news of the pregnancy, which should have brought us closer, seemed to drive a wedge between us. I was filled with conflicting emotions, unsure of how to navigate this new phase of our relationship.
Then came Innocent, our first son. The growing tension between Tina and I, which was tearing us apart, overshadowed his birth. I was torn between my love for Tina and the increasing strain in our relationship left me unsure of how to express my feelings and fears.
One unresolved quarrel led to another. There was a noticeable depreciation not only in our relationship
Soon after, she came up with an idea to speed up the birth of our children. Her suggestion made little sense to me, given our prevailing situation. I insisted on birth control, and she led me to believe she agreed, only to be told three months after the birth of Innocent that she was pregnant again with our second child. I was stunned. Kelechi, our daughter, was born months later.
Everything deteriorated so fast that nothing seemed to be working anymore for me. I decided to seek help. I took a two-week prayer and counseling trip to Nigeria. On my return, Tina’s attitude got stranger. With constant red eyes and bizarre looks, it was apparent that all was not well, but she would not say what the problem was. During my trip, I had hoped to find some clarity and peace. Instead, I returned to a situation that was even more confusing and distressing. Tina ensured I slept with her the Saturday after I returned from my trip. During this time, she whispered many sweet nothings and countless ‘I love yous’ into my ears. It never occurred to me that this was a ‘goodbye’ gesture.
The following day, she said she would not attend church because she wanted to rest. The stress of caring for our kids in my absence, according to her, had taken a toll on her, and I should go alone. I sensed from the pressure she mounted on me that something was wrong, but I could not tell what it was. Within a space of a few hours, she had pressured me more than four times to go to church. I made an excuse with the cloudy weather; she quickly referred to the app on her phone to assure me it would improve with time. For peace’s sake, I left alone for church.
On my return, Tina had absconded with our kids. The empty house she left behind told a story of a departure in haste, with clothes and shoes littered on the floor. I screamed and searched the apartment, but there was no one. All efforts to reach her on the phone proved futile, leaving me in a state of shock and devastation. The house, once filled with the laughter of our children and the occasional warmth of our troubled love, now echoed with the silence of their absence. This silence was deafening and unbearable.
“Two weeks into my predicament, I got a letter from the Jugendamt, the German equivalent of the Child’s Welfare Office, with allegations of rape and child abuse against me. ”
I showed up for a meeting at the office, perplexed and extremely dumbfounded that Tina had made the claims. The child welfare worker advised me, if I desired, to fight the allegations in court— a suggestion I promptly turned down, making it known to her that if Tina was okay with what she did and had peace of mind, I should let her be. The officer made another offer for a supervised visit with my kids, which I initially rejected but later accepted after seeking legal advice.
A few days later, I picked up the supervised visitation form my lawyer had already filled out and decided to take it to the social services office immediately. But I was not prepared for the strange encounter that was to follow. I rang the bell at the main entrance to the office, my form in hand, and a lady appeared. She knew who I was by her body language. Instead of letting me in, she opened the door, held it open, and blocked the small space she had created with her body, making sure I could not enter. I would have handed her the form and left, but I heard what sounded like the voice of my little child coming from one of the open offices behind her.
I walked past the woman, whose attempt to stop me proved too feeble. On reaching the door, I realized I was right. Seeing me, my child ran towards me, and Tina ran trembling into one of the nearby offices in an orchestrated act of fear. The social worker in the office fell for it and immediately accused me of stalking my child’s mother. The form I handed her did little to convince her I had no prior knowledge of Tina’s presence there.
The supervised visits with my children proved to be very demanding, combined with my work, but I was determined to do it. I received good reports from my child visit supervisors at our next round table meeting. Tina expressed her wish that I could have the children on weekends. I immediately refused, preferring to continue
Family Crises and Impact on Children
I made it clear that it made no sense for me, an accused child abuser, to be left with children for weekends. Tina burst into tears and complained that she had no time for herself. At the same time, the officer said the supervised visit cost the state a lot of money. I left the meeting without saying anything more.
For the next two months, Tina and I never saw each other. Then I got a surprise video call from her, scantily dressed. She was deliberately seductive. I watched as she got down on her knees and begged for forgiveness. Completely shocked, I asked for a moment to collect myself. About ten minutes later, she called again, pleading that the children wanted their father. My heart was melting. I asked for her address and went there but stopped at the entrance. She had completely shattered my confidence in her. So I insisted she call the children’s services to let them know I was there. She did.
No sooner had I entered her apartment than she was on her knees again, her nose running and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Couldn’t you have thought of a better way to clear things up with me if you didn’t want our relationship to continue?” I asked. She blamed the devil for everything.
Her government-provided flat was in total disarray and filthy. The children were unkempt. A few grey hairs had sprouted here and there on her head. Our separation had taken its toll on her, as it had on me. She told me she sometimes found it difficult to feed the children. I was the least surprised, given the external pressure from her extended family. I told her I was there for the children and nothing else. But she wanted us back together in one way or another.
One unresolved quarrel led to another. There was a noticeable depreciation not only in our relationship
As our gradual reunion progressed, she expressed surprise that we could ever be together again. She was so grateful to have her husband back. For my part, I was constantly struggling with the emotional wound she had inflicted on me. We alternated weekends between my place and hers. I sought clarity from her about where we were going with all this back-and-forth as we got older. Surprisingly, she preferred that we stay the way we were; otherwise, she would lose her financial support from the state.
A few weeks after our discussion, she said she was pregnant again but wanted to have an abortion. I objected and clarified that she could only be with me if she settled down. She was adamant. I had no choice but to stay with the children on the agreed date with the doctor. When she returned, I picked up my shirt and left. I wouldn’t say I liked the sight of her; she was dead to me, like the child she had just got rid of.
Over the next few weeks, I continued to visit Tina with the kids in mind, and she tried to seduce me with see-through clothes. I didn’t fall for her tricks anymore; I’d had enough. It’s been three years since I’ve seen Tina and the kids. I am sure the kids will come looking for me when they grow up.