I married early. I was twenty-four. I think life happened to me so fast. I met Marley in June and dated in July, August, September and November. In December he said we should get married. I told him, “I would love to marry you but I don’t think my parents would agree. They’ll say I’m too young. My dad wants me to do my master’s too. He might think I’m putting marriage ahead of my dreams. They won’t listen to me. And then again the age difference too.”

He was twelve years older than me. He had money. He had a company he was running. The wealth runs through his family. His parents are well-to-do.  They have a name when you mention everyone stops and listens. He wanted what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him.

When I told him about the reasons my parents won’t agree, he told me, “Leave that one to me. I will handle it. I will convince them first before anything. If you agree to marry me, nothing else matters.”

He went to see my parents. He painted a larger picture than himself to them, “She would go back to school right after marriage. When she’s done, she’ll run my company for me. She’s one smart girl and I want her to become the woman God has intended for her to become.”

My dad nodded as he spoke. My mom was swept off her feet as if she was the one going to get married to him. My dad told him, “You’ve told us what you want to do. We hear. We would talk to our daughter too and hear what she has to say. Give us some days. We’ll get back to you.”

When he was leaving, he gave two large envelopes away. One to my mom and one to my dad. They laughed. They shook hands. My dad even bowed to him before he left.

There were a few minutes of silence before my dad said, “You have a husband now. Your mom will teach you how to keep a husband and how to marry right. Submit to her tutorials and you’ll be fine.”

Five months later, the wedding happened. It was grand. It looked like a fairytale—my fairytale where prince charming descends from his high horse to make me his bride in a castle bigger than my dreams. I was the envy of my friends. They called to ask how I did it. I told them, “It’s God. When it’s your time, he’ll manifest himself and yours would even be bigger.”

In the first conversation we had, I told him, “Everything is going to be new for me around here. I don’t know you that much to know your taste, your colours and your light but I’m ready to learn and I’m a fast learner too. When I go wrong, just let me know and I’ll do things right and trust me, I don’t repeat my wrongs.”

The twelve-year age gap came between us often. It felt like centuries between us. He wanted things I didn’t want. He called me a small girl and forced me to accept what he thought was right for me. I didn’t have a say. I didn’t have to do anything without consulting him first. I talked about the school and he told me, “Concentrate on becoming a good wife first before anything else.”

I was home twenty-four-seven whiles he moved around in the name of business. He would leave as early as 6 am and come home around 12 am. No explanation whatsoever. He wouldn’t call to tell me how his day would be and the time he would come home. At 6 pm I would call, trying to ask when he would be home. He won’t pick up my calls and won’t return them.

Regardless of all that was happening, I didn’t have to go out without asking for permission. There was a lady in our house who ran all the errands. She was also made to monitor my moves though she didn’t know that I knew about it. I would call my husband to tell him I want to go out and he won’t pick up my calls. When I text him, he would tell me, “I’m busy. I will call back later.” That call would never come.

I couldn’t attend the weddings of my friends though they were there for me. When their parents died, I couldn’t attend their funerals. I lost my social life and lost all my friends. They saw me in a cage, a cage they didn’t have the keys to.

A year later, I’d had enough so I started running things my own way. When he was out and I had somewhere to go, I would just get up and go. That lady monitoring me would call to tell him and he would run mad. The reason for my going out didn’t matter. This man would run mad and insult me and insult my generation. I told him, “I’m your wife. When I call you pick up so I can tell you what I want to do.” His answer was, “You can’t tell me what to do. When I’m busy, I’m busy.”

I started talking to my parents. They seemed to understand my problems but they didn’t have any answers except to tell me, “Marriage is like that. It’s only a year. He would change.”

One day I went out without telling him. I was in town when he called, “Where are you?” I’m giving you ten minutes to go back home else…” And then he cut the call. I was out to meet a friend who’d returned to Ghana from abroad. We met with other old friends and had a lot of fun. I went home late. It was a statement of intent from me, that I was fed up and needed some fresh air.

When I got home he was there. He held me by the hand and hurled me to the floor. “Who do you think you are? You disobey my orders and do what you want? Where did you go? You’ve started cheating on me right?”

I was on the floor when I looked back into his eyes and said, “You think I’m cheating because you haven’t made love to me in several months? I’m not like you. I respect vows, especially the ones I make before…”

The slap came before my last word. I went blurred all of a sudden. I was on the floor screaming, “Wow, wow, wow” when another one landed, followed by a kick with his leg and then a step on my thigh.” The lady was there looking at us. I was screaming for her to help me but she stood there watching like a toy soldier.

After the beatings, he called my dad to complain to him about my waywardness., “She doesn’t listen to me. She left home in the morning and she just came back, can you imagine? And she’s here accusing me of cheating.”

You read what I wrote three paragraphs ago. Did I mention cheating?  I didn’t mention that because it wasn’t the right time to let him know that I knew he was cheating but when he was talking to my parents, he mentioned it himself.

My mom called and supported him. My dad also called and told me to respect the authority of the man I live with or else worse could happen. And then they both concluded, “He’ll change when a child comes in. Be patient. Some marriages go through such patches in the early stages. Don’t provoke him.

“For better for worse” so I was ready to stick to the vows. “Children, obey your parents in the Lord,” so I was doing everything to obey my parents.”

Three years later, my marriage got worse. He brought the cheating home, right under my nose. He was doing it with the lady who was monitoring me. I caught them twice but he never apologized or even tried to sack the lady. She became so disrespectful. She reported every little thing I did to him.

I woke up one dawn and saw my life passing me by. My dreams dying right at my feet but I was only twenty-seven years old. My husband wasn’t home but I didn’t know where he was. “Is this marriage? No, I have to do something. I’m smarter than this.”

I couldn’t leave immediately. I was scared. I had no support system to back me up so I stayed for like six months more to suffer more. One day, I picked a hand back and went home to see my parents. My mom saw me and she was like, “I hope you asked permission before coming?”

The anger that rushed to my heart that day was different. I came like a tsunami destroying everything in its path. I screamed, “What sort of question is that? Even you people, did I ask permission from you before going anywhere? Am I a wife or a prisoner? What kind of question is that? It’s all your fault but I don’t blame you. I’m not even going back again. If you also like, sack me. I’ll sleep on the street.”

They thought I was joking but to be honest, I didn’t mean it when I said I wasn’t going again but then he called in the evening and spoke harshly to my dad. My dad shook his head in disbelief. I could see he was sad. I told him, “You see the monster I live with? Are you happy now?”

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My dad went to his room and my mom followed. They never asked when I was leaving again. My husband came there twice to make it look like he wants me back that bad. My dad told him, “She’s a grown-up woman. She decides what to do now. I can’t interfere.”

That gave me strength and that set the tone for our eventual divorce. I lived in a mansion but I left with just a hang bag. Even when he called to beg me to come for my things, I told him, “They are not mine. You bought everything. Keep them or give them away.”

I started life again from zero. I went back to school. Along the line, I got a job. It wasn’t a big job but it helped me get through the day. Mom supported my education and Dad did too. Before my graduation, I  got a new job. On my way to my new job, I met a man who gave me a lift. The lift became a daily thing until it became a love story. I was scared to commit but mom told me, “Now you know when to leave and how to leave. This shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

We got married traditionally and later signed in court. It’s this marriage that has sustained me until this day. A happy marriage of course though it didn’t come with the castle treatment. This man here supports my dreams and even pushes me to aim higher. All he does is be a man and allow me to be a woman and his wife. Life’s better this way.

I’ve learned a lot from it all and I’ve come to accept that things end. We don’t have to push things to the limit, especially when it hurts. When it’s controlling and when it affects our sanity. We push things only to extend our suffering unnecessarily for too long. We try to endure what we should run away from and it becomes our death.

We can always cut the cord of a bad marriage and begin again. Divorce is part of marriage—the bile to the liver. A torn to the rose. After everything I asked myself, “Why did I allow it to go on for so long? Is it about fear? Is it about the power to endure? Is it to satisfy the desires of my parents?

It Didn’t Work Out Because Of Tribal Reasons | Silent Beads

No, it’s none of these. It’s rather hope that was my enemy. Hope kept me going—I hoped he will change. I hoped that if I listened and obeyed his every rule, he’ll listen to me too. It’s always the hope that kills us and not our fear. That’s one thing I wish I knew before I got married—that divorce is part of marriage.   

—Nuna

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