The first man who made me desire marriage is called Peter. He was not my first boyfriend but he was the first one who felt like home. I was not much of a Christian until I met him. Peter was a typical church boy. He hadn’t even kissed a girl until I came along. In a world where men liked to play games, he wore his heart on his sleeves. He was also not obsessed with getting into my pants like most men I had met were.

I remember one time we were kissing and I got carried away and touched him down there. He got upset and kicked me out of his room. How could I not want to be good for him? He made me want to be a better person. I even regretted some of the things I did before I met him. But he never judged me for my past, no he embraced me instead.

He introduced me to his family and they all embraced me as well. Peter and I often talked about our future together. We would get married and have four kids. It was all simple because we were in love. About a year into the relationship, my uncle asked if I was seeing someone. I was terrified but I said, “Yes I am. His name is Peter and we will get married as soon as I finish school and get a job.” The first question my uncle asked about him was, “Where is he from?” I mentioned his town. You have to eat enough Tuo Zaafi and Gusheshe soup to mention the town’s name properly. I don’t even know how to spell it so I won’t attempt it. My uncle’s response was, “We don’t marry from that tribe. So end it.”

I wish I could say that I stood my ground and fought for my love. However, things don’t work in my family like that. My uncle had all the power in the family. And he was the one my parents left me with when they left the country. Every decision he made about my life was endorsed by my parents. Once he said no to Peter, nothing would change his mind. It broke my heart but I had to let him go. I felt there was no need to delay the inevitable.

After our break up I was devastated. I turned to an old friend for comfort. He was in medical school while I was in my second year in training college. He gave me a listening ear when I needed to vent. And he took me out when I needed company. One day we went to his place after a night out, and we ended up having shuperu. He hadn’t proposed to me. We were just friends who had the mutual pleasure of getting each other off. It was good so I went back for more. That’s how we became friends with benefits.

I liked him. I would have agreed to be his girlfriend if he had asked me. However, he never did. So we continued our arrangement as it was until we drifted apart. Along the line, one of my coursemates introduced me to William. William had just graduated from medical school and was working as an intern. Right from the moment we started talking, he told me he was looking for a wife. Honestly, I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just using a line men use to sleep with women.

About a week after we started texting, William came all the way from Kumasi to see me in Accra. He visited me at home while my uncle and his wife had gone to work. We sat down and talked for over two hours. Although we were meeting each other for the first time, it felt like we had known each other our entire lives. Communication flowed easily between us. We even joked and teased each other. When he was leaving we hugged. And he held my hand when I went to see him off. This little gesture touched me at the core of my heart. I believe that was the moment I fell in love with him.

I am not bragging but I am a very beautiful woman. I have dark dark velvet skin, big breasts, and just the right size of booty. Not many men share a space with me without attempting to grope me. That’s why I was so touched when William didn’t attempt any of those things. A few days after he visited me, I also visited him at where he was staying in Accra. I was still not convinced that he was looking for a serious relationship but it didn’t matter. I liked him and I had decided to sleep with him should the opportunity present itself.

That day when I arrived at his place, I got the impression that once he left for Kumasi   I wouldn’t see him again. Unlike the first time when we kept everything casual, this time around the atmosphere was thick with sexual tension. And when the opportunity presented itself, I rocked William’s world from earth to heaven and back. I just wanted to give him an experience he would never forget.

To my surprise, he texted me after he got to Kumasi; “Just as I told you from the beginning, I am looking for a wife. And I believe you are the one. Will you marry me?” When I first saw the message I smiled. It seemed too soon but I really was in love with him. I thought of the prospect of marrying him and it made me happy. I texted him back, “Yes, I am in.”

It was a long-distance relationship so it wasn’t easy. We always had to communicate to keep things fresh. I couldn’t spend as much time with him as I wanted. He had a busy schedule but he made time for me to visit during some weekends. And every weekend I visited him, we had shuperu. While I didn’t have a problem with that, he did. He said he felt guilty every time we did it, and it affected his prayer life. This was one of the major problems we faced. We went back and forth about it until he broke up with me. He said he was doing what was best for his Christian life. I was hurt but I didn’t complain.

After the breakup, he won’t leave me alone. Once in a while, he would text me, “I love you.” He really messed with my head but I still loved him so I allowed it. One day I was there when he texted, “Do you want to get back together?” I said yes, and that was it. We were back together. That’s the thing about William. He doesn’t have time to play hide and seek with his heart. I am also like that so we clicked perfectly.

After we got back together we started planning our wedding. Occasionally we had shuperu, but this time around he no longer complained about feeling guilty. He is the kind of person who advocates for saving money so we didn’t rush our wedding preparations. We did everything in bits. By the time we were finally ready, we were three years into the relationship. Our wedding was elegant and one of the happiest days of my life.

He was posted to Wa before we got married so I relocated to Tamale to live with him. Honestly, the first year of our marriage was peaceful. We spent a lot of time together. There was no drama when it came to gender roles. Sometimes he would cook, other times he would do the dishes after I cooked. I didn’t understand all the fears and negativity associated with marriage. I had it good and I was happy.

After our firstborn, my husband had the opportunity to travel abroad to work. To be in a long-distance relationship is one thing but a long-distance marriage is something else. We tried our best to make it work. He had to get a few things in order before we could join him there permanently, so we only visited him over there. During one of our visits, I came back pregnant with our secondborn. This delayed our plans for us to join him.

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Cracks in our marriage started appearing when it was time for me to join him with our kids. All he came up with were reasons why he wasn’t ready. The first one was, “The district I live in is expensive so I am looking for a cheaper place.” The next excuse was, “I am not getting paid enough at the hospital I work so I want to find a better place.” Another one was, “I found a place but it’s too far from town. So wait till I buy a car first.” We argued several times over this but he won’t be moved.

It got to a point when he started acting like an alpha male. I am talking about everything toxic masculinity stands for. We weren’t living together but he was dictating how I should look and dress. Everything little thing he would say, “I am the head of the family so I make the decisions.” If I try to reason with him about something he would say I was questioning his authority. None of this made sense. William and I built our relationship on the foundation of friendship. In the past, we made decisions together. We could have long conversations about any topic. We were partners in everything.

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I attributed his change in behaviour to the distance between us. So I prayed and hoped that things would change. As I am writing this story we have finally joined him. I hoped for the man I first married, but he is different now. He wants me to respond, “Yes sir to everything he says.” He tells me I am too loud. The friendship we once shared is gone. I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe the snow changed the way he thinks. Maybe now that he is a father, he wants to treat me like his child. All I know is that this is not the marriage I signed up for.

I have not been able to take a stand on marriage until I started writing this story. Honestly, if I knew that my partner could change without warning, I wouldn’t have gotten married. Don’t get me wrong, I still love my husband. I just don’t like who he has become. The painful thing is that he is asking me to change to suit his new character. Does it mean that every time he changes, I have to also change to accommodate him? So what happens to my identity then? I wish I knew that I would have to choose between holding on to who I am and becoming who my husband wants me to be. Knowing this would have made a lot of difference in my decision-making.

—Eve

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