I signed up to attend an NGO event in Kumasi and met a man. He was on the executive board that organised it. We spoke briefly at the programme, exchanged numbers, and parted ways.

We didn’t talk again until a few days later when he texted me after we both returned to Accra.

One day, we were on the phone for so long that there was a comfortable silence. Then he asked me, “Hey, won’t your boyfriend come and beat me?”

I told him I didn’t have a boyfriend, and I asked him the same question: “Will any girl text me to tell me to leave you alone for her?”

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

He said no. That’s how we started dating.

We were past a year of dating when he started talking about going to school abroad and wanting us to settle down before. He sounded like a man who knew where he was going, so I didn’t hesitate when he suggested it. I told him, “Where you go, I will go, just lead me.” And I meant it with every fibre of my being.

We got married traditionally. We had a beautiful honeymoon, and while we were settling into marriage, I fell pregnant. He stopped talking about his dream. As a new wife, I blamed myself.

I thought it was because of the child that he had slowed down his plans, but it wasn’t. He said it was expensive and that he couldn’t afford it.

He sounded so desperate when he said it, so I quickly offered, “I have land we can sell to pay for the expense, I don’t mind.” He refused.

He said he was making another arrangement. What arrangement? He said to me, “A woman. There is a woman who has agreed to a contract marriage. All I have to do is pay her.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, I was shaking my head in disagreement. It didn’t sit well with my soul, or my spirit. “Tell me all about it, but I need some time to think this through” I told him.

What I didn’t know was that to him, it meant I was going to make a lot of sacrifices, including postponing our marriage under the ordinance.

He begged me not to do it. “Later, when I get there and get my green card, I’ll return so we have a glorious one.” I asked him when. He said in two years everything would be sorted out. All I had to do was trust him. “Or you don’t trust me?” I did.

The whole arrangement started getting suspicious. He hid to receive calls, always whispering on the phone. He guarded his phone as if he was guarding the gates of heaven. Very tight.

It started getting more tense when he woke up and said the woman who wanted to do the contract marriage wanted him to see her family.

“What for?” I asked.

He responded. “It is just procedure”

Later, I came to know the woman who was willing to do the contract marriage for him was a woman he dated in his past. She was an older woman who had three children. Also, she had won the American citizenship lottery and so was a citizen. I asked him if he still had anything for her. He said no.

“So you are getting married to your ex?”

“Oh, it is not like that. Just trust me. After two years, you will see me. I will be back.”

He pampered me. Everywhere I went, he was there, like a good dog to his owner. When I was in the kitchen, he brought the salt to me before I even asked. I was watching him and thinking about it: just two years? I could survive. So I gave him the go-ahead. And like a switch, he flipped.

He threw his hands at me whenever he pleased, called me names I had never heard before, started stealing my money, and even went to report me to the police before I had the chance to report him to his father for raising a thief

We declared war on ourselves. They say when a man stops loving you, you don’t need to be told. He fought me all day. He wouldn’t retreat until I fought back, so every day our house turned into a boxing arena.

We dissolved the marriage one day after I woke up and had no strength to retaliate. There was no need to lie to ourselves.

What followed after the dissolution of marriage turned out to be me fighting him to fulfil his responsibilities as a father. I never thought it would get to that point. The point where I had to take him to social welfare and later court for his widow’s bite for his own child. He was charged to pay 500 cedis in this day and age every month. In this economy, 500 Ghana cedis.

Meanwhile in a week I spend close to 1000 cedis on the baby’s feeding. Any other expenses of the baby are on me. I can’t even save money for anything.

I know and have heard from the grapevine that he is surviving well abroad because he has been able to join the other woman in America. He wears big coats and spends good money abroad, but I am scraping the bottom of the pot for food for his child.

I don’t understand why he married me, to be honest. I don’t. Maybe it was a bet. Maybe to satisfy his ego that he could marry a woman like me, or have a baby, neglect us, and come back to play the part of a good father when he is ready. I don’t know. All I know is I am still here battling with the baby and our expenses.

It’s Not God’s Law For A Man To Apologize To A Woman

Is there any way I can get him to increase how much he gives for the child? That is all I need to breathe properly and sleep well. I can’t do this single motherhood alone, only for him to come and reap the fruit of my labour. All I need is to know how to go about it.

He first told the court that he wasn’t earning much, which is why they set that amount. But now that things have changed, what do I do?

—Bev

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.

#SB<>