He Lost His Memory And Our Marriage Went With It

Before the accident, Kwame was a perfect man. This is not an exaggeration. Everybody who knew him loved him. My family adored him so much that they didn’t get angry when they found out he had gotten me pregnant out of wedlock. Their only reaction was, “We know Kwame. He is a good man. These past four years that you too have dated have proved that he is the kind of man who will do the right thing.” Thankfully, they were right.

As soon as I delivered our daughter, he performed the marriage rites. Everything he was while we dated continued in marriage. I never woke up and felt my husband didn’t care about me. This is a man who would drop everything to be there for us. Even if I did something to offend him, he wouldn’t throw tantrums. He would call and text me when we were apart as though nothing had happened. Then when we were all in a good mood, he would address whatever I did, and I’d apologize. That’s how we maintained peace in our home.

When it came to our daughter, he was great with her. She was just a baby but she had her daddy wrapped around her chubby little fingers. He showered her with gifts, attention, and praise. Sometimes I would get concerned and tell him, “I know you love her but tone it down a little. At the rate you are going, you will spoil her. And nobody likes a spoiled child.” He would just laugh and tell me, “It’s my job to pamper her because the world won’t.” Sometimes we would argue about it but he always won with his charm.

One fateful day, the sun rose on our happiness but a dark cloud formed and covered the rays of the sun. My husband went out on his motorbike and didn’t return at the time he was supposed to. By the time the day ended, the motorbike was damaged beyond repair, while my man lay in a hospital bed fighting for his dear life.

Nobody knew the details of the accident. It was a hit-and-run, that much we knew. The doctors told me, “Your husband suffered a lot of trauma. He has lost his memory, and he will be immobile for a while. Eventually, he will recover but until then he is going to need round-the-clock care.” I didn’t know whether to scream in anguish for the hand we had been dealt or sigh in relief that he survived. I think at that moment, my emotions froze. I had to be strong for him and our baby girl, so I wore my supergirl cape and got to work.

The clouds got darker during his recovery stage. I can’t recall the number of times my heart broke, every time I walked into a room and heard him ask, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I would hold back tears as I answered, “It’s me, Diya. Your wife. I am here to feed you.” He’d just stare at me vacantly and ask, “I have a wife? When did I get married?” What hurt me more was when he would look at our daughter and ask, “Whose child is that? She is making too much noise.”

Our friends and family came together to comfort me. “You are a strong woman, Diya. Don’t give up on him. He will get better soon enough.” After they leave, I’d be left to deal with the man who saw himself as a stranger in his own home. It took years before he could move on his own without any help. As for his memories, he regained them in bits and pieces. He remembers almost everything now. The only thing he doesn’t remember is the accident, so we don’t talk about it.

Now, he is able to work and take care of our family like he used to do. We even have a second child as I share this story. This is all good news, I must say. However, the sun still hasn’t shone in our home. A dark cloud in the shape of my husband hangs over our heads. He is always one mishap away from throwing a tantrum. A man who wouldn’t even raise his voice at me in the past, now shouts at me and gets verbally abusive when something doesn’t go his way.

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He treats our first child like an enemy. The moment the little girl goes near him he would shout at her, “What do you want from me? Go to your mother.” Sometimes I cry when this happens. As for our second child, she is barely a year old so he gets along well with her. The two kids could be playing, and he would pick up the baby and shut out the older one.

I have tried to have a conversation about his behavior but he refuses to talk to me. When I push too hard he asks me, “Are you trying to tell me I am not right in the head?” He doesn’t see his doctors anymore. He says he is fine so he doesn’t need them. That’s not true but he won’t hear anything I have to say on the matter.

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I have tried to involve both his family and mine, but all they tell me is, “You know he is a good person. He is behaving this way because of the accident. Give him time, he will improve.” I have given him time. How much longer should I wait? At this point, I am not even sure we have a marriage anymore. There’s no connection, no friendship, and definitely no happiness. It’s as if the accident gave him a personality transplant.

I want to know if there’s a possibility that he will go back to the man I married. Or is this how it’s going to be for the rest of our lives? I have started thinking about divorce, so we can find happiness without each other. Is that a good idea?

—Diya