We Had To Perform A Ritual By The River So Someone Could Love Me Again

Her father didn’t like me. He said I was the wrong man for his daughter. He said it right on my face the very first day I went there to visit. “It might be the kind of work I do. Or it might be because I’m not rich.” I told myself. He didn’t give any reason behind his thought. So I was speculating. His daughter was doing better than me because she had been working for a very long time. I spent a lot of time in school and was about to start life. I had a job that didn’t pay that much. But I had all my future ahead of me to make my life better. My girlfriend knew I could be great in the future. She accepted my proposal because of who I  may become in the future and not who I was at that moment. But her father said no. Her mother was on the fence.

Gifty said, “You don’t have to worry. He’s my father. I’ve been with him longer than any of my siblings because I’m the first child. Leave him to me. I will handle it.” While she was at it, handling the issues with her father, her father started stating his reasons for not accepting me. Yes, it was my job. He told her, “How do you bring a man who has nothing? You have your own car. What does he have?” When the issues surrounding my job were settled, he came out with another reason, “I don’t even like his tribe. Men from his tribe don’t look after wives and kids. They are ungrateful too. They never appreciate what you do for them.”

Trust Gifty to always be on top of issues. She fought it out with her father. She kept hammering on my good side to her father and the reason why she thought I could be a good husband. One evening I had a call from her father. He said, “It’s because of my daughter’s faith in you, that’s why I would allow you to marry her. I don’t know what she sees in you but everything she says about you is golden. I didn’t raise a stupid daughter. I raised a girl who can use her head and it’s the reason I’m going to believe her choice in you. You better be the man she thinks you are. I will be watching you.”

Three months later, we did the knocking. The list he gave us was as tall as the tallest tree in Ghana. Gifty said, “No, it’s too much. How does he expect you to cough out all these things within the shortest possible time?” I told her, “Don’t worry. If that’s all it will take for him to trust me, then I will make him trust me. He’s a man. I’m a man too. Men understand the language of men. Your father is speaking through this list. Watch my response.”

I used eight months to gather everything that was on the list. I should say a very big thanks to my parents here. They played a very huge role in helping me get all the things I needed. Eight months later I was ready. I called the man—Gifty’s father. I said, “Dad, I’m ready. We are fixing a date soon. Would you mind if we come home this day and this time?” He responded, “My doors are always open to receive you.” 

So when the times were right, we did our traditional marriage. Three days later, we were in church exchanging vows in the presence of God, family, and friends. After the wedding, I went to see my wife’s father. I knelt before him and poured words of gratitude to him; “Thank you dad for trusting me. I will do anything not to disappoint you. Gifty will always be a happy woman because she found the right man.” He tapped my back and asked me to get up. “Not words my son. Actions. Make me proud,” he told me.

The first year of our marriage, we were living in the apartment Gifty had rented. It was a single room self-contained but it was big enough for a young couple who were about to begin their lives. I worked hard. I worked very hard to get myself a new job. A job that paid better than the one I was doing. We got a new place and left the old house. My wife got pregnant when our marriage was three years old. Her pregnancy was eight months old when I had a big breakthrough in my career. I got a new job, a new position that came with the salary I deserved. I told my wife, “See what God is doing. He wants to put us in a better place before the child arrives.” Our hearts were happy. We went to bed smiling because we had a beautiful future to look up to. 

She went into labor at dawn. I carried her carefully into the car and drove her to the hospital. By the time we got to the hospital, the car seat was soaked with blood. I told myself, “The baby could be very close.” The nurses came to help her to the labor ward. I was sitting outside when they kept going in and coming out. One of the nurses asked another nurse, “Did you get him on the phone?” The other nurse shook her head. I was watching them closely. They were not saying anything to me but their posture told a story of fear, uncertainties, and helplessness. I asked one of them, “Is everything alright?” She smiled. “Yeah, everything is good.” That smile wasn’t deep. “No, something is wrong,” I told myself.

They spent over an hour at the ward. “Baby didn’t make it. Mother didn’t make it,” one of the nurses came to tell me. I asked her, “Are you talking to me? Baby didn’t make it, mother didn’t make it. Are you referring to my family here or you’re talking about another thing altogether?” She said somberly, “Unfortunately yes. I’m  talking about your family.” I screamed, “No you’re not talking about my family. I brought a very strong woman here about an hour ago. Why do you tell me she couldn’t make it?” 

First I was in denial but slowly the reality got to me. I’d lost my wife. At this stage, the baby didn’t matter to me. I didn’t know her. I didn’t get the chance to meet her so I couldn’t mourn her the way she deserved. It was all about my wife, Gifty. The woman I’d lived under the same roof with for over three years. I cried like a baby. I cried myself to sleep and cried myself to face the morning sun. The pain was too much for a heart this small. I couldn’t look at her father. I felt like I had disappointed him. I couldn’t protect what he entrusted to my care. Surprisingly, he was very understanding. He cried with me and when he had to give me a shoulder he did it without complaints. 

Soon she was buried. Life wasn’t going to be the same for me I knew it. I tread cautiously. I spoke slowly. I thought about them every day when I was alone. I was always cold because the warmth in my life had been snatched out of my hand. I became very good friends with my late wife’s father. He would call often and ask for assistance. I would give it to him without thinking twice about it. On easter holidays, I would visit them and give them gifts. Anything I did for them felt like I was doing it for my late wife. I wanted her soul to be happy, knowing that her parents are being taken care of well.

Four years later, I hadn’t been able to replace my wife. I dated quite a few women but anytime we get to a stage where I declare my intention to marry them, they give me excuses and vanish from my life. The last woman who did that to me was Benedicta. I found in her everything I desired in a woman. She was helpful, caring, and was there for me every day. We dated for a year before I proposed marriage. She was happy at first but days later she started giving me excuses. One day she stopped picking up my calls. The next thing she said was, “There are so many problems going on in my life now. I don’t want to add marriage to it. I’m sorry.” 

I was ready to wait for when she would be ready but she kept pushing me away until there was nothing left of us. My mother thought it was my late wife who was still pursuing me. She said, “This is not normal. Your late wife has a hand in it. Her spirit doesn’t want you to replace her. Let’s do something about it.” Mothers and superstitions. I told her, “If anything, Gifty would like to see me happy. I don’t think she’ll harm me knowing very well that it wasn’t my fault.” My mother kept pushing. She would call in the morning and talk plenty on the phone; “My son, there are a lot of mysteries in this world you don’t know about. You think it’s for no reason at all that the world spins? I need grandchildren. You’ll have to find a new wife too so you’ll listen to me.”

When Benedicta finally left, I started leaning in on what my mother told me; “What would make a woman so happy about a marriage proposal and later run away because of the same marriage proposal? What mom is saying could be true.” So that day I looked up and said, “Gifty, if you are here please listen to me. I’m not trying to replace you. You’re irreplaceable. No one in this world can take your place but there is this small piece left in my life. Won’t you allow someone to occupy that space? Just for the sake of my happiness, please.”

I went to my mom and ask her, “So what do you want me to do? I’m here.” 

She took me to a place where a man in a white robe sat in the corner of the room. We entered without our slippers.  The man asked about our mission. My mother narrated everything to the man. He asked me, “Young man, do you think that your hands are clean when it comes to your wife’s death?” I responded, “I got her pregnant and she died while giving birth. My contribution to her death is making her pregnant. Apart from that, my hands are very clean.” He looked in the mirror and started talking gibberish. He said, “Your wife is not after you. She’s resting but someone around her is responsible for your situation. Who do you talk to?” 

I narrated how I give assistance to her father and send gifts to her family. The man looked in the mirror again. He said, “If you still have anything that belongs to your wife, come with it on Wednesday night. There’s a cord to break.” I went with my wife’s jewelry box. That night we went to the river. He did a lot of things I can’t write about. He dipped me in the water and asked me to throw the jewels in the river one after the other. I did. He cleaned me up and said, “You are free now. If you want to marry again tomorrow, you can marry. And don’t call your wife’s family again until they call you.”

I left the riverside thinking everything was just a stage play. It’s been two years now and my late wife’s father had never called me again for any assistance. I haven’t called him too because I don’t have to call him. I have a woman in my life now. We talked about marriage and she was happy. That happiness had been sustained since. Soon we’ll do the knocking. Right after that, we will get married. I’m not replacing my wife. I’m opening a new page of my life. A page that doesn’t include Gifty. I loved her in her time and I still would have loved her if she was still alive. Unfortunately, she’s not here with me. Life goes on, so we the living can only go where life wants us to be.