I was unemployed for three years. For three years I sent out applications. I applied for jobs I found online and in papers. I had no luck.  Too many people chasing a few jobs so most of us were left scrabbling for jobs that were not in existence. But my luck finally shone one day. I had a job offer in Kumasi. I was living in the Eastern Region with my family but that wasn’t a problem. I was ready to move to Kumasi. 

I was anxious. I didn’t know Kumasi that much. The last time I was there was so many years ago. I was young. The memories of the place had faded. No face to call a friend and no place to call home, but I was happy—happy to have something I could call a job. My uncle lived there so I didn’t struggle to get a place to live. He found a place for me even before I got there. 

I had a lot of mixed feelings about the city when I arrived. Most of these feelings came from what other people had told me about Kumasi. They said it was a good place to live looking at the price side of things. They also warned about the tricks and mastery of some pickpockets in the busy zones of Kumasi. I heard so much I didn’t know which side of Kumasi I was going to meet; the good side or the bad side?  As I was grappling with my own fears, my boyfriend also had his own fear about my resettlement. He was worried about men and how fast they could snatch me from his hands; “Men can’t be trusted but Kumasi men are extra sharp. You cannot trust them so you ought to be careful. They may sway you with sweet talks about things they don’t have. I know what I’m talking about because I’m also a Kumasi guy.” His words sunk deep. They were engraved in my mind. There is no way I’m going to fall for a man in Kumasi,” I assured.

My first week wasn’t easy but I sailed through. I didn’t know my way around so I resorted to picking taxis for places I could even walk to. I spent a lot on Taxis. My younger relative who was in one of the tertiary schools in Kumasi also helped a lot. He took me around town, showed me where to get cool stuff at cheap prices. He showed me which routes were safe, and the ones that weren’t. He gave me some tips on how to act in busy places; “If you go around looking guarded, you will draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Just relax and be yourself, but be careful.” As time went on, I started enjoying myself and discovering new places for myself.   

One day, I joined a trotro and it broke down in the middle of our journey. The conductor decided to give us part of our fare so we can take another trotro. He didn’t have change so he grouped us and gave us the money to split. I had to split mine with one of the guys on the bus. We were going in the same direction so it was easier. When we got a trotro, we sat next to each other and we talked. Nothing bonds people faster than a shared mishap. The breakdown of our previous bus was the glue that bonded us together. Besides, it was time I made a friend, and he seemed like a nice guy. He was nothing like the guys my boyfriend warned me about. I enjoyed talking to him so much that I gave him my number when he asked for it.

We started talking, and it felt nice to talk to someone new for a change. We spoke every day and from all indications, he was going to tell me he liked me and possibly ask me to be his girlfriend. “If it came to that, I would turn him down politely and insist that we remain friends,” I told myself.

One day he asked me to dinner, at a fancy restaurant. I accepted to go out with him. On the day of the date, he got to the restaurant before I did. I could sense he was nervous when I got to the table he had chosen for us. I figured it must be the proposal. I started feeling bad knowing that I was going to turn him down. We started the conversation on a light note. We  spoke about the food, my day, his day, and then he asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?” “Yes. I  have a boyfriend.” I told him. I was glad he started from that question. I seized the opportunity to share in elaborate detail the beautiful love my boyfriend and I share. I added, “We are even preparing to get married very soon.” 

I could see the disappointment on his face, but I ignored it. We continued talking about trivial things. He asked me, “Won’t you also ask about my relationship status? I said in my head “Do I even care about your relationship status? All that matters to me is for you to know that I’m engaged so that you don’t get your hopes up.” I couldn’t say that to his face, so I smiled and told him “I’m all ears. Tell me everything.”

He started talking about his life, went on and on until he said, “…So that’s it for me. I am married with three children.” What? I was very surprised. He didn’t look like a married man. He wasn’t even wearing a ring. Anyway, there was nothing to feel bad about. If anything, I was happy to know that he was married.  I told myself, “He is married, and I have a boyfriend. Nothing to fear now. We will just go on being friends.” We finished our food in silence and left the place.

After the dinner date, he started calling me pet names, “sweetheart” “love” “darling” among others. It made me uncomfortable. I asked him to stop. He said, “I have fallen in love with your personality, and I want to be with you. We can be together till your boyfriend marries you.” I thought of what my boyfriend said. “He was right. Men here don’t waste time.” I told him point-blank, “You’re a married man and I don’t want you. I don’t want your wife to come and pour hot water on me. I don’t want any curses on my life. I wouldn’t want my husband to cheat on me. I can’t do that to my fellow woman.”

 He took my ‘NO’ for ‘TRY HARDER.’ He kept calling and texting. Telling me sweet nothings in hopes that I would accept his proposal. I knew he was just lusting after my body. I am one of those girls who have a Coca-Cola body shape. I knew that must be the reason he wouldn’t leave me alone. When he realized all his efforts were unsuccessful, he resorted to begging. He would often call and say, “Please hear me out. I have my reasons for wanting to cheat on my wife. Let me explain my situation to you. I need you to understand why I’m doing this.” I also respond “Is there ever a good reason for a man to cheat on his wife?” I got tired of having the same conversation with him so I stopped answering his calls. 

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For two weeks, I ignored his calls and his texts. One day he sent a text claiming he really isn’t a bad person, and that if I listened to his story, I would understand. Well, I  figured if I listened to him, he would leave me alone. We went to another restaurant.  I just wanted to hear what his reason could be. I urged him to go straight to the point and he didn’t waste time to tell his story. He started, “I married at an early age. I wanted to have a beautiful family. God blessed me with a good woman and in the same year, we had our first child. But there was a problem. During delivery, the midwife cut too much of her Vagina. The baby was big. It needed more space. The cut almost got to the anus.”

According to him, after the baby was born, his wife had a problem with her underpart because of the cut. She was put on medication but it solved very little of the issue. So whenever they had shuperu, the woman complain of severe pains. “She would cry so much because of the pain,” He said. 

What I found very interesting about his story was that they have 3 kids. I was wondering how it was possible to have three children with someone who felt pain during shuperu and as such didn’t allow you to roam freely in bed? He said, “I couldn’t just bring myself to see my wife go through so much pain. I am only 32 and I can’t retire from sex. It got to a time I resorted to pleasuring myself.” His eyes were teary as he spoke. He was so emotional he almost cried in front of me. The way he narrated his story hit me. Maybe it was how he was almost drawn to tears. I felt sad for him but I wasn’t going to loosen up for him to have his way.

It also doesn’t stop me from wondering about him. maybe it’s pity but sometimes I also doubt the authenticity of his story. Questions come to mind; “Would a man go that length to reveal a marital secret to another lady just because he’s trying to have his way with her? Or it’s a true story of his marriage. If it is, why would he decide to tell it to a lay he barely knows? Or he’s just being the man my boyfriend warned me about? 

–Suzzy

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