Four years ago when we started pre-marital counseling, our counselor asked us a question and asked us to be honest with our answers. He asked me, “Would you allow your husband to go through your phone?”

Without blinking an eye, I said yes. He asked him the same question and he answered yes. He went on, “Soon you’re getting married. Do you know each other’s passwords?” We both said no. That day we exchanged passwords. I’ve never changed my password since but I didn’t know if he had changed his because I had no reason to go through his phone.

After marriage, he had been an amazing man. We’ve had our share of troubles but each time we are faced with issues, he rises up like the man he is and water down the raging fire.

He loves his phone because there’s always something to do with it. The beautiful thing is, he knows when to put it down and attend to my needs. He’s never at the dining table with his phone. He never comes to bed holding his phone. When we talk, he lowers his phone and never picks it up until we are done talking. I’ve observed all these things because those are the little things that make me see he’s invested in our relationship.

He goes to the toilet with his phone and spends forever there. I used to tease him, “See you tomorrow” whenever he’s going to the toilet because I knew he wasn’t going to come back anytime soon. He would laugh about it and tell me it’s the only place he found peace, perfect peace.

One evening, after he came out of the toilet, I entered. A few seconds later, I heard a vibration. I looked on top of the cistern and his phone was there. It was a message from someone. I didn’t see the message but I saw the name, Pokuaa. Within a minute, several messages came through from the same person. My curiosity was triggered so I tried the password he told me during counseling and it worked.

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Immediately the phone opened, I heard his footsteps approaching the washroom door. I quickly got up and locked the door. When he turned the knob and it didn’t open, he said, “I left my phone on the cistern. Can you pass it to me?” I answered while sounding like I was pushing hard; “Please I’m busy down here. I’ll bring it when I’m coming.” He said, “Just open the door slightly and pass it to me. Since when did you start locking washroom doors?” I responded jovially, “Since I started reading the messages from Pokuaa.”

Suddenly, his voice went from casual to serious; “Stop that. Open the door and give me my phone.”

All the while, I wasn’t reading the messages but the agitation in his voice made me suspicious so I started reading. He was knocking at the door vigorously, threatening to break it down if I didn’t open by the count of ten. I didn’t scroll far, but I saw a conversation about money my husband was supposed to send. I saw a line that read, “You say you won’t wear a condom so get ready for…”

Before I could get to the end of that message, he started banging the door with his body, trying to break it. I stopped reading and exclaimed, “You’ll break the door because of a phone? Do I eat phones that you can’t wait for me to finish?”

Bam! Bam! Baam! “Open the door. Do you want me to break it?” He screamed. Baaam! Then there was a crack. I reached out to the key to open the door. Before I could turn the key, he pushed one last time and the door flung open and hit me on the forehead. While I was moaning in pain, he snatched the phone and slapped me across the face. “Who asked you to open my phone? What has come over you?” He tried slapping me again but he stopped midway and walked away.

It’s not what I read that killed me that day but the fact that my husband could hit me because of that. In our four years of marriage, he hadn’t been violent. He had always been a calm person whenever there was an issue to solve. When I fought with a co-tenant, he was the one who held me by the shoulder and pulled me in. Softly and gently, he dealt with the co-tenant for the issue to be solved. If I told anyone around that my husband hit me, nobody would have believed me.

I stayed in the toilet and buried my face in my palm. I wanted to cry but my own tears abandoned me. After a while, he came back, held my hand and tried to lift me while saying sorry. I didn’t get up. He knelt before me, apologizing profusely while asking what he should do to make it up to me. I answered, “You only have to explain who that lady is and why she’s demanding money from you while talking about your refusal to use condoms. Is she pregnant for you?”

He looked into my eyes and said, “It’s not what you think but let’s put that one aside and talk about it later. Now, it’s about the way I treated you. I want to hear you say you’ve forgiven me. I want to make things right before anything else.”

I quickly told him I’d forgiven him and that we should move to the messages. He said he wouldn’t believe me until I gave him evidence of my forgiveness. For a whole week, I acted like nothing had happened. I cooked, I communicated, I did everything I used to do without any inhibitions just to prove a point. I was smiling often though deep down I was burning with fury. I wanted his answers so desperately that I would do anything to get him talking. Two weeks, three weeks, one month, two months later, my husband is still telling me he feels I haven’t forgiven him totally so he isn’t going to address the Pokuaa issue.

I know he’s gaslighting me and I know it’s a master manipulative attempt to get me to forget about it but how can a wife forget such a thing? I gave him an ultimatum and the period has passed.

Currently, I don’t want to live with him again. I want to just pack out and go far away from him. I don’t want to invite relatives into this issue. They’ll take his side and ask me to forgive him for the sake of the marriage. He knows that so he’s waiting for me to do it. He wants to lie to them and fake remorse so they’ll say he has repented.

It Will Be Difficult For Me To Commit To One Person

At this moment I’m holding on to one pain, two actually. That my husband has gotten another woman pregnant and that, my husband is capable of abusing me. But the thing with me is, when I finally walk out of this door, nothing will bring me back, not even silver and gold. That’s why I’m being patient but if he pushes me, I’ll give him what he wants so he can continue life with Pokuaa, the reason he could break down a door and slap me.

—Sabina 

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