He came to my house one evening and said, “We should get married.” I laughed it off because of how casual he made it sound. Marriage is not like walking to a tiny provision store behind your house and screaming, “I’m buying something.” Then the owner of the store would scream from somewhere inside her house where she was probably taking a nap; “What are you buying?” Then you respond, “I’m buying gari.” That’s not how marriage works. It’s a serious business. To me, it’s like seeing two adults in corporate suits discussing what type of investment they should put their money in. 

The man would probably say, “Let’s put it in that gold investment thingy that has ‘Mens’ in its name somewhere. You know gold has value. Our investment would appreciate over time.” The woman, being emotional and careful about her lifetime savings would respond, “The last time I heard of Gold investment in Ghana, it didn’t end well with the investors. I have an aunt who eats gari soakings morning and evening because she invested her retirement money in that gold investment thingy. I don’t want that for us. Our future is very important. It should be built on the rock just like Christ built the church on the rock through Peter.”

That’s the kind of discussion I expected from him but that evening, he walked to my house with his nose mask under his chin and out of nowhere said, ”We should get married.” When I laughed he asked me, “Why are you laughing? You think ‘Let’s get married’ is funny?” I told him, “Nooo it’s not funny. You made it sound so casual and it came out of nowhere that’s why I laughed it off. If you’re serious about it, then  we can talk.”

He let himself fall on the sofa next to him. He started ranting, “Couples like us ought to use this opportunity to get married before the world awakes from its long slumber. Public gathering doesn’t exceed fifty people because of Covid. If we get married this season, we won’t spend much. We can have a moderate wedding we can be proud of. No one will talk about us. They won’t gather in groups and discuss how small our wedding was and how we couldn’t serve a buffet for ten thousand people.” I responded, “But we can always have that wedding? Covid or not. Who cares about what people say? Can they talk about us forever? No, they can’t. Can we marry forever after having a small wedding? Yes, we can!”

He expected me to be overly happy about the marriage proposal but all I did was ask him questions. He looked at me and said, “It looks like you’re not into this as much as I am. I brought good news and all you could do is ask silly questions? If you don’t like to marry me, that’s fine but don’t make it look like there’s no sense in what I’m saying.”

We had dated for three years. Happiness was dotted. Troubles came in patches. That was expected from every human relationship so I didn’t worry too much. We had a way of resolving our differences and it was healthy. No abuse—whether verbal or emotional. The only issue was he never mentioned marriage at any point in our dating life and I didn’t ask him about it. I’m not the type of person to ask questions about things I expected the other party to know. So when he came that day talking about marriage and even talking about how we should go about it, it felt so sudden and so out of nowhere. I asked questions so I can know the basis of the sudden turn of events. 

He took it as me not being eager about marriage. He got angry about it and even threatened not to talk about it again. But days later when tempers had calmed I brought the discussion to the table again. We were both sincere about our expectations; “I think it’s about time. Three years of dating gives us a plethora of experience for us to know who we are with and what to expect when we decide to settle down,” He said. I agreed with him so we started making plans towards marriage. 

It was June 2020 when we had this discussion. By the end of July, he had come to perform the knocking rite so he could get the dowry list. My parents were liberal about the list. Nothing expensive. No overboard demands. They understood the call of the times we were in and made things flexible so the two of us can get married just the way we wanted. I helped. A woman needs to help her man so I offered a helping hand in purchasing some of the items on the list. When it came to the wedding too I helped. I didn’t sleep on my role as a helper. Right from the word go, I got it and started being just that. 

We had a small wedding that was attended by family and a few selected friends. We didn’t make noise about it. We didn’t share on social media. I remember putting my invitation on my Whatsapp status a day before the wedding. That was about it. We didn’t intend to host so many people so there was no need to do all that. Just after two hours, our wedding was done. We slept in a hotel close by for two days and later went to our homes. 

Before the wedding, we were looking for a place to rent. We combed through town and got nothing. We registered with several agents who ended up giving us nothing in return. So we decided to wait after the wedding so we could get time to search for a place. Right after the wedding, I told him, “Let’s resume searching for accommodation. We need to move in together as soon as possible.” He said, “Yeah we have to. Let’s start tomorrow.” 

I called him, “When are we leaving?” He said, “It’s too sunny, let’s wait until the sun comes down.” He didn’t talk about it again until a week later. I called to remind him, “We haven’t been searching for days, or we should give it to agents again?” “No. Not this time. We’ll look for it ourselves. Let’s not rush things.” Weeks later I brought it up again. He said, “Where are you running to? Is your landlord pushing you out of the house? You have months left on your rent. We still have time.”

One day, I packed my things and started moving them to his place. He protested, “This place is too small. It can’t contain the two of us. Why are you making things difficult?” I didn’t listen nor look at his face. A bag after a bag. Shoes after utensils. I packed everything to where he was living. By the time I finished packing everything there, there was not even a foot-space for us to move around. My bags were on the bed so at night we struggled to fit into the bed. He couldn’t sleep on the floor because my shoes had taken over. He kept nagging. I told him, “You can’t nag your way out of this. We can only go out there and get a place suitable for the two of us. What’s difficult about this?”

“If you have money, then fine. Because I don’t have a pesewa to rent a place for us.”

“You don’t have money? What happened to the money you said you had? For which we started scouting a place even before the wedding?” 

“It went into the wedding. I have nothing left. It’s either you go back to your place or we stay here until I get money for rent.”

“How much do you have? Just bring it so I add the rest.” 

“There’s nothing on me. Currently, I’m living from hand to mouth so I can’t add accommodation to my budget.”

I didn’t move. We’ve been married for over a year but we are still living in that single room that has no foot space. Nothing makes sense after we got married. He continues living his life as though he was single. He doesn’t give housekeeping money. If our light goes off and I don’t pay, we’ll sleep in darkness until he decides to buy prepaid. He doesn’t pay for water until our co-tenants come knocking on our door, embarrassing us. The whole marriage feels like sitting at a comedy show where the comedienne isn’t funny. I needed answers so two weeks ago while he was sleeping, I went through his phone. I read every conversation I could lay my hands on. 

There was a conversation between him and a number saved as “Mason.” He has a piece of land he is building on. He sends the mason money every month for the building project. I didn’t know about it until that moment. His family was not left out. He was the one paying the fees for his two sisters. One of the sisters is married and has two kids. She decided to attend catering school and my husband was the one paying her fees. No, those are not the heartbreaking thing I found. He was chatting with his elder sister. The sister asked, “How is your wife?” He responded, “Ogugu hɔ.” I don’t know how to say it in English for it to make sense. He talked about me as though I was an unwanted article. Rag. Then somewhere along the chat, his sister said, “If I advised you not to marry her, you would have called me a hater. You see what’s happening to you? A man should not rush into marriage. You have all the time.” 

He responded, “I married her so I can get my welfare money from work. I’ve contributed for over five years and I’ve earned nothing. People contribute for a year and the next year, they marry and collect GHC5000 cedis plus other petty cash from other sources in the company. I needed that money to push my building project. Didn’t you see the kind of wedding we had?” 

Everything started to make sense. How casual the marriage proposal was. How rushed the whole thing seemed. His nonchalant attitude toward the whole marriage. Everything lined up in a more meaningful way after reading their chat. He was sleeping on the floor while I was sleeping on the bed. It was around 1am. I woke him up. He asked angrily, “What is it that you won’t let me sleep?” I asked calmly, “Why did you marry me?” He asked, “What sort of stupid question is that? Is that the reason why you woke me up at this ungodly hour?” I said, “I just finished reading the messages on your phone. You have money but you think I’m the wrong person to spend the money on. You pay fees for even your married sister. You have land you’re building on. You told your sister you married me because of welfare funds you’ll receive from work. Tell me I’m a liar.”

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When you attack people with the truth, they don’t mind running under a match stick for cover. He asked why I would read his messages; “You have your phone and I have mine. Why would you go through my phone? Do I use my phone with you? Do I check on your phone?” I stood on my ground. I kept asking, “Why did you marry me?” He chuckled. He fell on the floor on his right side and continued sleeping. He said, ”I didn’t ask you to read messages on my phone so you can’t ask me questions.”

I stopped asking him questions. I blamed myself for not following my instinct when he came up with the marriage proposal. I blamed myself for how things turned out. “I should have investigated his reasons for marriage further than I did. It’s all my fault.”

Currently, I’m looking for a place of my own. I’ve told him about it. Immediately I get a place, I will move out and think about the marriage later. I don’t see how the whole marriage is going to work out when the man I’ve given my all to sees me as a means to an end. I need to think smart. I need to rescue what’s left so I can have a better future for myself and my family. I’m twenty-eight. All is not lost. I can lose my marriage and still have the rest of my life sorted out. Let me get a place of my own first. Everything else will follow.     

–Lois 

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