For about three years now I have been in a relationship with Sam. Throughout our time together, he has been good to me. Especially when it comes to supporting me with cash and in kind. Things were good between us. As far as I was concerned, I was the only woman in his life. But it all changed two months ago.

We were watching a video on his phone when a message popped up. It read, “I miss us.” The name attached to the message was a unisex one. So I asked, “Who is that?”
“It’s an old male colleague,” he answered. It’s not as if I didn’t want to believe him. It’s just that his answer didn’t add up.

Apart from the fact that his answer was too specific, why would a grown man text another man, “I miss us”? Usually, he is the one who goes through my messages. I have nothing to hide so it doesn’t bother me. I, on the other hand, have never gone through his phone. However, that night I politely asked him to hand me his phone. I wanted to check if indeed the person who texted him was a man.

I have had moments where deep down I felt he was lying to me about certain things. Some of them have to do with issues concerning our relationship. While others have to do with other aspects of our lives. I never probe or try to dig deeper. I just leave it alone. I couldn’t do the same thing when it came to his phone though. I was determined to know whatever he was hiding.

When I requested the phone, he held it up for me to see only some of their messages. When I tried to get closer, he tried to stop me. We fought over this phone for almost an hour and thirty minutes. The phone’s screen started cracking but he still wouldn’t leave it for me.

Eventually, the phone fell. I tried to pick it up. He pushed me. When I managed to take it, he overpowered me, collected it and then switched it off. In the end, I accidentally hit his eye with my hand. I also got some cuts when he pushed me. We were both hurt. This made me more determined to find out what he was hiding.

Later, I tried to switch the phone on. When he saw me, he took the phone from me. Then he gave me a heavy slap and tore my blouse from the top to the down. When we got to that point I gave up. I shook my head and said to myself, “What’s the point of all it? What exactly am I fighting for?”

I felt there was no need to fight anymore because their chats were so important to him that he went as far as slapping me and tearing my blouse to keep me from reading them. I told him, “I can’t do this. I am done with this relationship.” He wanted to check the extent of my wounds but I didn’t let him.

The next day he bought food and brought it to me but I sent him away with the food. The day after that, I decided to have an honest conversation with him. I called and told him how deeply he hurt me. I asked how he would feel if the tables were turned and he was in my shoes.

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As we were talking my airtime finished. I bought another one and called him again but this time around he didn’t pick up. When I called him with a different number though, he picked up.

The next morning he came to my place and packed all his stuff. I greeted him but he didn’t respond. What else was there to do? I gave him his keys and credit card.

For the next six days, I didn’t call him. On the seventh day, he called to tell me, “I need your help. My eyes are hurting.” I found a way to refuse him my help without being rude.

The last time I spoke to him was on his birthday, which was two weeks after the fight. Nobody has initiated a call since then. I want to know if I am on the right path. It’s difficult but I am trying my hardest not to go back to him.

— Maa Akua

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