Three years after marriage everything started falling apart. The man I married had changed totally. And the sad thing was, he didn’t know he had changed. I sat him down one morning and started lining up all the things he had stopped doing to help the marriage. His answer was, “I didn’t change. It’s life that changed me.”

Yes when we got married, he was a junior staff at his company. He was very hardworking and all but he had time for me and had time for us to plan for our future. I remember he would close from work at 4pm and be home by 5pm. When I was not home, he’ll cook something and eat and leave me some. He’ll sit next to me and we’ll talk about how our day went. We’ll spend time watching TV, discussing our unborn kids and the school we’ll take them to. Those were the days when I could look into the eyes of my husband and see nothing but pure love and adoration.

Three years down the line, he got promoted twice and things started changing. The promotion came with money and I guess what they say is true; money changes people. My husband started making personal plans without me. He came home one day with a car. I thought he picked it from the office only for him to tell me, “I bought this car today.” “You bought a car? You didn’t think my opinion was needed?” He answered, “Your opinion wouldn’t have mattered because I had already decided long ago to buy this car.” Even if my opinion didn’t matter, I would have felt respected if he told me, “Sweetheart I’m getting a car tomorrow.” He never did.

For days I was hurt but for the sake of my own sanity, I let it go. Two months or so later, I found a land title document in his drawer. It had his name on it and the witness side was signed by his junior brother. I rushed to him and angrily asked, “Peter, am I a fool to you? Am I a tree that doesn’t talk or hear so you don’t talk to me? What are we here for if you would rather involve your junior brother and not me? Am I even your wife?” He stayed quiet until I finished ranting. He said, “I bought a piece of land. I didn’t kill anybody so stop overreacting.”

The things he did didn’t hurt me more than his answers to questions. He had a way of making me feel stupid and insignificant. He made me feel so small at some point I thought I didn’t even exist. But wait, the worse was yet to come. I hadn’t been able to conceive for two years after marriage and I had started getting worried. I knew I didn’t have to worry but the woman in me felt inadequate for not being able to conceive. One morning I realized my period had delayed so I got tested. It came out positive. I was pregnant. I couldn’t believe my luck. I rushed to him in the bedroom to give him the news; “Peter, I got tested. I’m positive. I’m pregnant Peter.”  The excitement in my voice was palpable but all Peter did was to raise his head and squint to see my face very well. He said, “Am I dead that you can’t wait for me to wake up before you tell me that?”

He then put his head on the pillow, turned to face the wall, and continued sleeping. He never asked about the pregnancy again and didn’t do anything to show he was happy about me getting pregnant. That sucked my happiness away. I kept thinking of how my husband had turned cold to things that have to do with the marriage. He simply didn’t care and I was a woman in emotional trauma. Three months later, I got a miscarriage. He was right there when it happened. He drove me to the hospital where the doctor delivered the news. When we came home, I was expecting some form of sympathy from him. He said nothing. I was expecting him to say something like, “Dear I’m sorry you have to go through all that.” He said nothing.

For a whole five months, he didn’t touch me. He didn’t make a move on me and the few times I tried, he said he was too tired to do anything. I said to myself, “I’m too young to die this miserable death. I’ll leave this marriage and have my peace of mind.” I told my parents about a divorce. They tried to talk me out of it but in the end, they said, “It’s your life. You know how best to live it. Whatever the decision you make, we’ll support you.”

So one afternoon, I spoke to a lawyer and we got the divorce papers ready. It wasn’t easy for me but I was too tired to live with a man who was so cold like cucumber. When he came home that evening, I gave him the divorce papers to sign. He went through it and said, “Has it gotten to that?” I told him, “It has gotten to that so long ago but I was hoping some things might change. But I was wrong. Some things never change.”

He entered the bedroom with the papers and I stayed in the hall watching TV with my broken heart. When I went inside to sleep, I saw the papers in front of the dressing mirror with a pen lying next to it. He had signed it and peacefully lying on the bed sleeping. I went to the bathroom and cried myself until there were no tears left in me. “So that is it? It all comes to an end just like that?” I stayed in the bathroom for close to two hours thinking crazy thoughts. I pulled myself up, cleaned my wet skin, and went to sleep next to him—for the last time. I struggle to sleep that night. I turned over and over on my side of the bed, crumbling the sheet beneath me. Just when my eyes were dozing off, I felt his hands wrapped around me.

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I thought I was dreaming. I had to pinch myself to feel it was all real. He said, “Hey, do we have to do this? Isn’t there a way we can revive this? Yes, I’ve been a bad husband but do you have to walk away without trying?” I started sharing tears; “Peter, I have tried and you know it,” I spoke through my tears. “I’ve tried all I could to get you to see reason but you kept hurting me every day. There’s a point I break down and this is the point.” He kept his hands around me and kept squeezing me tight anytime I tried to speak. He’s my husband and he knew what works on me. I loved to be squeezed and he knew it so he continued squeezing until I turned and kissed him.”

All these happened three years ago after three years of marriage. We nearly gave it all away when all we needed was a squeeze so tight and a kiss so warm. From that night on, we decided to build our marriage again. It wasn’t easy. I have to try and forget all the pain he had caused me and he had to put in the effort to become the man I once married. He faulted. I faulted. He got angry and I got upset but nothing could drive us to the point where we had to sign our divorce papers.

The squeeze led to a kiss that night. The kiss led to the best of sex we had ever given to each other, and that sex led to a pregnancy, and it’s because of that pregnancy that today we have Adelaide, our pretty little daughter. I still have those signed divorce papers with me. I know the date we both signed it so each year when the date comes, I remember when we almost gave it all away and thank God for the fighting spirit. If we did, we wouldn’t have had Adelaide and that would have been our greatest loss.  

—Adelaide’s Mom, Ghana