Both times, I was the reason Freda had to face him.
Freda came to our house as a house help during one of my university vacations. She had completed SHS and wanted to save money for tertiary education. I was in Level 200, old enough to believe I understood love and young enough to think every difficulty could be settled with courage.
I noticed her on the day she arrived. She was quiet at first, careful with everything she touched. My mother showed her around the house while I pretended to be reading on the veranda. I watched her carry her small bag towards the room at the back.
Over the following weeks, we became friends. I’d find excuses to be around when she finished her chores. Sometimes we talked about the courses she wanted to study. She had plans beyond our kitchen and the wages she was saving. I liked her ambition, her humour and the way she could challenge me without raising her voice.
READ ALSO: I Quit My Job to Save My Marriage When My Wife Found The Child I Was Hiding
Eventually, I told her how I felt. She hesitated. She was living under my parents’ roof and depended on the job. I promised discretion, thinking secrecy could protect us from my parents. She agreed to date me.
Our relationship existed in stolen minutes. During the day, we behaved like two people who barely knew each other. At night, I slipped into her room after everyone had gone to sleep. We were intimate, and we believed nobody had noticed.
I think somewhere along the line, my younger sister saw what was going on. I don’t know how long she watched us and how long she waited before telling our father. I only know what happened that night. I was with Freda in her room when the door opened. My father walked in and switched on the light.
Freda pulled the sheet over herself. I couldn’t move. My father stood there without speaking for several seconds, then ordered me to go out.
The next morning, he sacked Freda from our house.
He didn’t ask her any questions. I thought my mom would fight to keep her but she too watched on as my dad ordered Freda to leave our house. I watched her fold her belongings into the same bag she’d brought with her. My mother gave her what she was owed, and she left our house.
I still remember how she avoided looking at me at the gate. I promised her duty of care but when everything collapsed, she was the one who lost her place and her income. We lost contact from that day.
I returned to university, graduated and eventually started working. Over time, I had other relationships, but whenever I thought about Freda, I remembered the light coming on and the small bag in her hand.
Eight years later, I attended an event and saw her across the room. At first, I wasn’t sure it was her. She looked immaculate, dressed simply but beautifully, and she carried herself with an ease I hadn’t seen when we were younger. Then she laughed at something someone said, and I recognised her.
I went over to greet her. She was shocked to see me. She said I look like a man. I said she look like a wife. We laughed and then conversation ensued. She told me about her life after leaving our house. She had continued working, found ways to study and made something of herself. I felt proud of her, though I knew I had no right to claim a part in what she’d achieved.
Before we parted, we exchanged numbers.
We began talking again, first about the years we’d missed, then about the people we’d become. I apologised for what happened at my parents’ house. She said she’d carried the humiliation for a long time. I couldn’t undo it, but I could finally listen without trying to defend myself.
We went on dates. There were no locked doors, no whispers about whether someone was awake. I fell in love with her again, this time with a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. We started dating seriously, this time with no parental eyes watching our every move. We dated for a year and I took her home to meet my parents again.
I wanted my parents to understand that what happened in her room all those years ago hadn’t been a meaningless encounter. I wanted them to see that we were adults choosing each other openly. I also wanted to surprise them.
My father saw Freda and recognised her immediately. He didn’t ask about her work or her family or how we had found each other again. After introducing her as the woman I was dating, my dad said, “I won’t approve of it. Unless you marry her without me.”
Freda went still beside me. I had brought her back to the very house where she’d once been sent away, and I had given her no warning that my father might react like this.
My mother tried to calm him. She spoke to him later and initially encouraged us to be patient. I believed she would help us persuade him.
When A Man Cheats And Doesn’t Disrespect You, It Should Be OK
Then my mom’s position changed. Without explaining why, she told me to respect my father’s decision. When I asked what had happened, she said some matters were better left alone. I couldn’t tell whether my father had convinced her or whether she knew something she refused to say.
For two years, I’ve asked for an explanation. I’ve gone home alone, called at quiet times and asked older relatives to speak with him. My father refuses every conversation. He has never even said, “Because I caught you sleeping with her, I won’t agree for you to marry her.” He simply says no. He tells me I can marry Freda only after he is dead.
She’s tired of being the woman my family will not receive, though nobody will tell her what she’s done wrong. She recently asked how much longer I expect her to wait. I didn’t have an answer. I love her. I want my parents at our wedding. But I have spent two years trying to make my father say yes while the woman I hope to marry grows less certain that I will ever choose a future with her.
What do you think will make my dad oppose our relationship without giving reasons? And for how long should we wait? Freda is giving up. I’m tired too. Where do we go from here?
—Robert
This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.
******
Kindly do a background check on Freda maybe she’s your dad’s hidden daughter 😜😜😜
If your father had good intentions about you, he would tell you what his reasons are so that you could at least use it as a guide in your life, going forward. A person who can’t forgive the indiscretions of young people after so many years, must be set aside. Go and see Freda’s parents and discuss everything with them. Don’t leave out anything. If they will support the two of you, then leave your father out and plan your lives without him.
One thing the people of Ghana don’t know is that, a couple can marry without recourse to parents and family, so long as it is ordinance marriage. All you need is to have two two witnesses each. However, because we are so traditional, we almost always do the customary marriage, which is a complete polygamous marriage, them proceed to do the white wedding celebration and top it up with ordinance in the church or in the registry or court. The choice is yours. We always have the fear of the unknown which is why we always listen to parents. Good luck to them
Robert, you don’t need your dad’s permission to marry. You are a man. However i suggest you still persist in convincing your dad, afterall it’s your life not his.
Please ask Freda to tell you the story beyond the story of that night. I guess there is more known to Freda
I think Charles Tohazy might be right or there is something between both families. Love is blind my brother others will tell you it’s your life and you can marry without your father’s blessing but remember it will always an “Achilles heel” to the marriage.