06/06/2025
Title: My Best Friend Stole My Baby – Part 1
My name is Vanessa. I’m 34 years old, beautiful, confident, and successful. I live in Lagos and work as a fashion designer. Life wasn’t perfect, but I was happy… until the day my heart was broken by the one person I trusted the most—my best friend, Linda.
Linda and I had been friends since university. We did everything together—parties, business ideas, even heartbreaks. She was like a sister to me. People used to say we looked like twins. But they didn’t know her heart.
At 34, I was ready to settle down. I had worked hard, bought my own house, owned a car, and had loyal clients. But the one thing I didn’t have was a child.
After a long heartbreak, I decided to be a single mum. I chose IVF. I didn’t want to wait for a man to complete me. I just wanted to be a mother. I was scared, but Linda supported me. She followed me to every hospital appointment. She brought me food, prayed with me, and even cried when I found out I was pregnant.
I was having a baby girl.
The pregnancy journey wasn’t easy. Some days, I was weak and emotional. Linda moved into my house to help. She cooked, cleaned, and took care of me. I thanked God for her. I even told her, “Linda, you’ll be my baby’s godmother.” She smiled and hugged me tightly.
But behind that smile… was jealousy.
She had always wanted a child too. But she had fibroids and had been trying for years with no luck. I didn’t know her pain had turned to bitterness.
One night, when I was eight months pregnant, I woke up and heard her crying in the living room. I walked in slowly and asked, “Linda, are you okay?” She quickly wiped her tears and said, “It’s nothing. Just tired.”
I believed her. I shouldn’t have.
The day I gave birth, Linda was there in the hospital. She carried my baby first. She cried more than me. She whispered into the baby’s ear, “You’re safe now. I’ll protect you.”
I didn’t know what she meant.
Two weeks later, something happened.
I was still recovering, and Linda offered to take the baby for a walk in the estate. I trusted her. I went to sleep.
But when I woke up… Linda and my baby were gone.
No calls. No messages. Her phone was switched off.
I screamed until I lost my voice. My neighbours tried to help. The estate security said they saw her get into a Bolt ride. That was all. My world went dark.
I reported to the police, but they said it wasn’t a kidnapping since she was my friend and had access. Days passed. Then weeks. No sign of Linda or my baby.
I almost lost my mind.
I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I kept calling her number, praying for a miracle. I searched social media, contacted her family—but no one had seen her. Her parents were also confused. They said she had cut them off too.
Months passed. My milk dried up. My body healed, but my soul was broken.
Until one afternoon… I got a message from a stranger on Instagram. The message said:
“I saw a woman who looks like your friend Linda… and she has a baby girl. But she tells everyone the child is hers.”
I froze.
Could it be?
I replied quickly. “Where did you see her?”
The reply came:
“She lives in Port Harcourt. She’s dating a rich man and pretending to be the child’s real mother.”
My heart jumped.
Was it true?
I packed my bag that same night. I had no plan… just pain and prayers.
To be continued...
Written By African stories
