Sometimes, life puts you in messy situations where you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing or not. That’s what Na Me F— Up? is about — real Nigerians sharing the choices they’ve made, while you decide if they fucked up or not.
Fawaz* (49) didn’t anticipate how complicated marrying someone with a child could be. Even after years together, life with his stepson hasn’t been easy. Now, after countless failed attempts to bond, he’s faced with a decision that could redefine both his marriage and his role as a father.
This is Fawaz’s dilemma, as shared with Mofiyinfoluwa
When I met Mariam*, I already knew she was a single mum. She worked in her aunt’s shop near my house, and I often saw her little boy, Khalid*, playing around. On our first date in 2009, she told me her son had never met his dad – the man abandoned them while she was still pregnant. I hesitated at first, especially because my parents didn’t like the idea of me marrying a woman with a child. But I’d fallen in love with Mariam and convinced myself it wouldn’t be a problem.
We got married in 2010, and four-year-old Khalid moved in with us. Everything started peacefully. He was a sweet child, and I understood Mariam’s need to protect him. When we had our first son later that same year, she asked me to let Khalid take my surname so all the children would share one family name. I didn’t think much of it, so I agreed.
As our family grew and we had two more kids, I noticed that Mariam treated Khalid differently. She never let him do chores, not even small ones. Meanwhile, when our first child turned ten, she already helped around the house. When I said Khalid should start washing my car, she shifted the task to his younger brother. The favouritism was obvious, but each time I mentioned it, she dismissed my concerns.
As Khalid grew older, his attitude changed. He became rude, entitled, and reckless. His teachers called often to report that he bullied classmates and disrespected them. The school suspended him twice for stealing and exam malpractice. I tried to discipline him, but Mariam never allowed it. She defended him at every turn and said I was being too harsh. After a while, I gave up and told her to handle her son herself.
When he got into university in 2021, he became even worse. I still paid his fees and pocket money, but he always demanded more. He ignored curfews and hung out with questionable friends. I warned him several times, but he never listened.
Then, in February this year, I got a call from the police in the state where he schooled. They’d arrested him for internet fraud and drug possession. It took over ₦100K and my personal connections to get him out. He showed no remorse or gratitude. I warned him that if he ever got into trouble again, I wouldn’t come to his rescue.
Six months later, he came home for the holidays. For the first few weeks, he seemed calm, and I thought maybe he had changed. Then one afternoon, I came home early from work and found him on the verandah with two friends, smoking weed and blasting music.
I was furious. I slapped him multiple times and shouted that he was bringing shame to my house. He talked back, and I told him if he wanted to live that kind of life, he should drop my name and stop depending on me. He stormed out and went to his mother’s shop.
A few hours later, Mariam came home angry. Instead of correcting him, she said I’d overreacted and needed to be patient. She admitted he was misbehaving, but claimed she was trying to “manage” him. Then she blamed me, saying he might have turned out better if I’d agreed to send him to the private university she wanted. But it wasn’t a wise financial decision, and since I was the one footing most of the bills, I stood my ground.
She also accused me of ignoring how my parents and siblings treat our biological kids better than Khalid. To be fair, that part was true. My parents never really saw him as their grandchild. They’d ask after the other kids and forget to mention him. My siblings sometimes bought gifts and left him out. When my parents wanted to take a family photo for their anniversary, they almost forgot to get clothes for him until Mariam spoke up.
Still, that didn’t excuse his behaviour. I was never cruel to him; I just didn’t go out of my way to show special affection. I never planned to replace his father, and I expected Mariam to raise him with less indulgence.
A few days later, Mariam told me that Khalid had gone to stay with her mother because he didn’t like my comment about the name drop and felt unwelcome at my house. I just shrugged, and she got angry, saying I wouldn’t react that way if one of our kids had left. She believes he needs a father figure to improve and that I should step up, but I’m not interested.
Even now, Mariam believes I am the problem. She insists I’ve been too hard on him, while I believe I’ve done more than enough. I provided for him, gave him a home, and treated him like part of the family. I just refuse to keep enabling bad behaviour. I’m more worried about him influencing our other children than about his feelings right now. Mariam doesn’t see it that way, and it’s driving a wedge between us.
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