My wife and I hit rock bottom after marriage. I lost my job just a week before our wedding. She lost her job barely a month after our wedding. She lived in the city in a single-room apartment. Luckily for us, she had over a year left on her rent, so I decided to move in with her in the city to figure life out together.

We would eat bread and drink water for dinner. We barely had anything on us. I would call my siblings, and they would send something, but we would end up using it to pay bills. We were always scared of tomorrow. It got to a point where I had a job interview, but I didn’t have money for transportation. I cried that night, knowing I wouldn’t be able to attend the interview.

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I asked a lady next door. I hadn’t spoken to her before, but I was desperate. She gave me GHC200, and when I said I would pay her back, she said I didn’t need to. I was so embarrassed. I attended the interview, but all I got was, “Thank you for coming. You’ll hear from us.” I never heard from them.

Then my wife got a supermarket job. It was way below her qualification, but I encouraged her to do it. She was a cashier for a month and was moved to a supervisory role because of her qualification and maturity. The pay was not good, but it gave us the assurance that something would come at the end of the month.

Three months into the job, my wife started coming home with her boss. The owner of the company would drop her at the gate and drive away. The first time, I saw it as kindness, but when it became consistent and very late, I started questioning my wife.

“Does your boss live around here? What’s his motivation for bringing you home these days?”

My wife asked, “What do you want, for me to be home or to know how I got home? Are you not happy I’m saving money on fares?”

One day, she came home very late. I started calling her around 8 p.m. She wouldn’t pick up my calls. She got home almost at 11 p.m. It was her boss who brought her home. That night, the man in me was deeply hurt and troubled.

I didn’t ask questions. I told her one more lateness and she would resign from work. I looked deep into her eyes and warned, “The next time I see that man’s car around here, it will be war. I’ll confront him. Maybe he’ll fire you afterwards.”

So she came home alone but was still late. She told me she had been moved to manage the man’s cold store business far from home. We didn’t discuss it. She just took the role, and I had no say.

Right around that time, my wife started feeling sick. I saw the change in her. I was even the one who asked her to test for pregnancy instead of assuming it was malaria. She was pregnant.

I was cautiously happy. I remember going on my knees and telling God, “The baby you’re bringing into our lives needs to be taken care of. Daddy, place me in a position where I can cater for a child before this one arrives.”

A week later, I saw my wife changing a sanitary pad. I asked what was going on, and she asked me what I thought was going on.

“I couldn’t have it. Not in this situation. I might even lose my job, and we’ll go back to zero. I let it go.”

I rushed and held her by the neck, all the while screaming, “Are you crazy? Are you going mad? Who gave you permission to do that? Are you a murderer?”

She called her parents and told them she wanted a divorce before I ended her life for her. Her mother called me. That woman started hating me right when I lost my job. She insulted me and asked me to pack out of the house before she came to see me.

“You have the strength to strangle a woman but have no strength to work. Shame on you as a man.”

Her dad asked what happened, and I explained my side of the story. He said I was right to be angry, but I went too far. He called my wife and insulted her like a child, asking her what had come over her.

“He’s still your husband. How can you do that without informing him?”

We resolved the issue. I apologised to her, and she did the same, but I cried every time I was alone. I knew I’d lost my marriage. First, it was her boss. Second, it was my child who had to bear the brunt of my situation.

I left home one morning and promised I wouldn’t return until I had a job. Any job at all.

I had nothing. That same day, I was on the roadside buying bread when my wife got out of a car. She waved and smiled as the driver drove away. I thought she listened when I told her to stop coming home with her boss. Rather, she had changed tactics. She alighted by the roadside and walked home.

She left her phone on charge. The screen was lit when she walked into the bathroom. I quickly placed a finger on the screen so the phone wouldn’t get locked. I read the messages on her phone.

When I put the phone down, I cried.

My wife didn’t know who was responsible for the pregnancy. That was why she let it go.

She told her boss, “It could be you, and it could be him. If it ended up being yours, scandal. I had to avoid all that situation.”

She came to see me with her phone. I read her own messages back to her. She collapsed on the bed, asking why I was reading her messages.

I wasn’t even shocked.

That very evening, I called her dad and told him what I’d found. The next morning, I packed the few things I had and travelled back home to my parents’ house. I told them, “The marriage is over. I’ll focus on my life now.”

They were shocked by what I’d been through. I told them it was part of being a man. I was broken into pieces. At one point, I couldn’t feel my heart. It was numb.

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She didn’t call or text to even plead with me. Later, when she called, she asked, “When are you going to divorce me in court so I can be free to live my life?”

I had a call for a job and went back to the city. I borrowed money to rent my own place and start life again. I’m doing better.

You should see her now. She doesn’t even look healthy. She hops from one man to another, enjoying the freedom our divorce brought.

If you’re a man, please don’t lose your source of livelihood. It’s all you have, and it’s what makes you the man that you are. I’ve been there. No man should be there again after me. It’s a very dark place to be.

—Kojo

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