She Kidnapped My Son

“Forgive her, she’s your cousin!”

That’s what my parents said two weeks after my cousin kidnapped my newborn son.

I had an emergency c-section and gave birth to my son alone on cold Wednesday morning.

My mum, was the first person to arrive at the hospital to see me, then, my dad turned up, and my friends from university arrived to congratulate me.

I spent two painful weeks at the hospital before the doctors agreed to discharge me.

My cousin, who is my mother’s sister’s daughter, she helped me through the whole thing.

She picked me up from the hospital, cleaned my house, cooked for me, and so much more. I felt so blessed at the time; until it all changed.

One Saturday afternoon, my sister called me and told me to take a seat. My son was sleeping peacefully in his crib so, I was taking a break from writing mothering.

My sister said:

“Cousin told me something and I think it’s best that I tell you what she said. She told me that she searched through your things when she tidied your house and found your bank statements that contained so much money. She questioned me, asking me why you have so much money.”

I felt sick to my stomach because I trusted my cousin, and the funny thing is, I worked really hard to build up my finances when I found out that I was pregnant.

I took on more freelance clients, I published more content, I went all out to make sure that my son was set up financially. So, how dare she look through my personal documents?

I made the decision that I really didn’t want any drama, I needed peace at that time, I wanted to focus on raising my son in peace without all the drama.

I called my phone provider to change my number and sent the number to my sisters and other trusted family members and friends.

That evening, I made dinner, bathed my son, did some laundry, put my son to bed and sat down to watch a movie.

It was about 9pm when I heard a loud bang on the door!

“Who is it?”

I didn’t feel like seeing anyone, and I was also wearing a cloth wrapped around my body with no underwear.

A loud voice came booming through the door:

“It’s me! Why have you changed your number!!????”

I told her to lower her voice because my son was asleep at that time. She continued to bang on the door, screaming and shouting. I opened the door to calm her down because I really didn’t want the neighbors turning up to complain.

She stepped into the house and asked me why I changed my number. I explained that I needed space and peace of mind. I didn’t even ask her anything about her snooping through my stuff. She began to scream in my face.

I closed the door and quickly ran down the hall as I was desperate to use the bathroom. I quickly finished and ran back, as I was running back I noticed the door was open, I checked up on my son to find out that he was gone!

Barefoot, with a thin cloth wrapped around my body, in the freezing London weather, I ran through the streets to catch her. She took my son! She took my son!

Why the hell would she even do that???

Made no sense to me at all, I ran as fast as I could but I was still healing from my c-section and by the time the doctor hadn’t given me the all-clear to exercise. I felt a burning pain where my scar was, I doubled over in pain, she was nowhere be to seen. I couldn’t find her!

I began screaming at the top of lungs and a group of young women stopped to help me. I explained the situation and they said they saw her running with my son, she had apparently jumped into her car and threw him in the back seat.

One of the girls went ahead and called the police with her cell phone. A security guard from my building came running around the corner shouting frantically.

“What’s happened!!!???”

“I saw someone running with a baby, is that your baby?”

I screamed:

“Yes, yes, my cousin kidnapped my son!!!!”

The police arrived on the scene quickly and drove me back home. I gave a statement and called my partner. He left the food that he had ordered for us and ran top speed to the apartment.

He was ready to kill someone that night, and I didn’t blame him at all.

My dad called and said:

“I heard that you tried to beat your cousin while you were holding your son, I will call the social services myself!!!”

Really?

Wow! That never happened! She lied! She told the police that she feared for my son’s life which was a total lie, and most people that know me will vouch that I’m not a violent person and I hate drama!

I like peace, and I really don’t have it in me to fight someone, especially while I’m holding my son.

She took a sleeping baby wearing no warm clothes and ran with him through the blistering cold to spite me. It’s that simple.

Anyway, after six hours of tears and anxiety, the police turned up. They explained that my son was outside with my parents, my cousin (the kidnapper), my other cousin, and someone else.

My mum handed him over wrapped in a blue blanket; and I could have killed someone that night. My parents were on her side! She had brainwashed them to believe that I had beat her up while holding my son.

Even my sisters believed her! That was the worst day of my life!

The only person who believed me was my cousin’s mother. She knows her daughter. I’ve sat there and watched my cousin beat her husband like a rag doll in front of her mother. I’ve also witnessed her cursing and fighting in front of her mother and other people. So, her mother is well aware of the kind of woman she is .

It’s been more than a decade since that happened and I’ve spoken to my cousin once on the phone. I haven’t seen her since, and to be honest, I don’t want to see her.

I’ve forgiven her for my own peace of mind but I won’t forget, and I can’t ever trust her again.

It’s taken years to trust my sisters and my parents again after they took her side. Anytime I try to bring it up to them, they shut me down and say I should forget about it.

This is the problem, my parents, who are African, don’t believe in talking things through. It’s a cultural thing, they shut things down and get on with life.

In Ghana, we say:

“We move!”

It means, move forward and forget about your problems, just dig deep and be strong.

I get that, but when you’re hurting, and when family issues need to be resolved, talking is important. I’ve had to deal with all my anger in therapy and through meditation because if I held all that anger inside, I might be sitting in a prison cell right now.

When I think about it, I should have pressed charges, but my parents begged me not to do it. The police should have arrested her regardless, but they didn’t.

A lawyer friend of mine recently advised me to reopen the whole thing and go to the police. I left the UK because of that whole situation, I didn’t want to be anywhere near the place and as a result, I raised my son in Ghana for the early part of his childhood.

You see, one evening almost ruined my life, but I fought through and in some way, I thank her because my son has experienced many different cultures and we’re now living happily in Dubai. I don’t think we would be here if that didn’t happen.

So, I hope she’s forgiven herself for what she did, because she destroyed a mother’s trust. I hope she’s worked through her issues to become a better person.

Now, I can breathe.

As a result of this situation, I'm working to build a women's shelter for abused women in Ghana. Show your support here.