It was Alfred who first showed me what betting was. I’d heard of it but hadn’t experienced it. We went to the betting center where a lot of computer screens were displayed. He carefully scrolled through the matches, selecting odds and doing the math in his head. I asked, “So what does this mean when you select it?” He answered, “Higher odds mean lower probability but a higher cash out. You have to study the game.”

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He got his betting slip and we went home. He called a few hours later and said, “I won GHC1,000. Let’s go and chill.”

A week or so later, I followed him to the center again. He did his thing and later called that he’d won some money. “Alfred, teach me this thing. I want to learn to fish rather than be given pieces of fish,” I said.

It took a while but I learned the tricks. My first win came much later. It was GHC1,500. Everyone in my circle heard that I’d won a bet—from the street, to the office, and to the church.

Sabby, my girlfriend at the time, became aware of it and started telling me to stop. I would joke, “This is our ticket to a great wedding. You wait and see.” Betting became my song, my backbone, and also my excuse. If Sabby asked me for money or to buy her something, I would tell her, “Wait until evening. I will win a bet and get you whatever you need.”

She hated it, so I learned to hide it from her, like a well-kept secret.

In 2021, I won my biggest bet yet. I called Alfred. I was shaking. “My paddy, you’re talking to a rich man. Guess how much I won today?”

I gave him three attempts but he couldn’t guess the amount right. I told him, “I’m a GHC75,000 rich man! What do you want, just name it.”

When I told Sabby we were getting married she didn’t believe me. When I told her we were coming home to do the knocking rite she said, “We play with a lot of things but not this. What has come over you?” “Love,” I answered. “I love you so much I want to marry you tomorrow.”

I went to see her family, got the list, and started preparations. She watched how I was spending and asked me, “Adɛn, w’adi lotto anaa?” I shook my head. I told her my savings over the years were doing the magic for me. After our wedding, I paid for a honeymoon she thought I had robbed a bank to afford.

By the time we moved into our newly rented, fully furnished apartment, I was low on cash. I wasn’t counting, but I can safely say that I’d spent over GHC10,000 of the winnings on betting, and I’d lost. That’s what betting does to you. It gives with the right hand and takes with the left. When the losing streak became too much, I told Alfred, “It seems I’ve run out of luck. Bring the odds and I’ll bet it.”

By the time I was six months into marriage, I was also neck-deep in debt, some of which I had borrowed from friends. My wife suspected I was still betting. She saw some slips in my pocket while washing. I lied about it, but she wasn’t born yesterday. When I lost money and my emotions were all over the place, she thought I was going through troubles I wasn’t talking about. She prayed for me, took me to church, and forced me to fast.

One day, I told God, “Please help me. It seems I can’t help myself.”

I had taken loans from the office to bet. I’d borrowed from friends. My account was empty. Out of desperation, I stole money from the office account. I didn’t steal like a thief; I knew I was going to pay it back, but I didn’t follow the loan procedure. I even owed Alfred money.

We didn’t have a child, but I couldn’t afford anything. Sabby would ask for just GHC100 to buy electricity and I would tell her, “Buy it, I’ll pay you later.” I stole from her purse to stake bets. She didn’t know I was doing that. I even took money from her Momo account through a vendor so she wouldn’t know it was me. By the time our marriage was a year old, I couldn’t find myself. I was buried deep in debt and shame. Some creditors came home just to disgrace me in front of my wife.

Sabby asked, “What do you do with your salary?” By that time, the deductions from my salary were more than 50%. What was left went into betting. I’d won before and I knew what it took to win again, so I would do everything to win again. But one day, I was called into our MD’s office and the question was put to me: “We can’t account for GHC87,576. What happened?”

Betting happened, but I couldn’t explain it that way to them. I was charged with stealing, and one day I came home with a termination letter. I cried on my way home. I was so scared to meet my wife that I sat behind the house until late at night when she called to ask where I was. I went home, left the letter where she would see it, and went to sleep.

She woke me up at dawn, “What happened? What did you do with all that money?”

After explaining everything, she sat flat on the floor, staring at the letter as if it was addressed to her. She muttered, “I suspected it. I knew something wasn’t right.”

The police picked me up because the company needed their money back. My parents used their house as collateral to bail me out. My brother and two sisters provided money every month to pay off the debt. Sabby also contributed a large sum, but there was still much to pay. But guess what? I still believed only betting could get me out of that ditch, so I stole money from Sabby to bet secretly, but it seems money stolen for betting never wins.

For close to two years, Sabby was in charge of paying for everything while I looked for a job that never existed. Everyone shunned me and called me a disgrace, but Sabby stayed. Until I took money from her purse, not knowing it was meant for the water bill. When she found out, she said, amidst tears, “I can’t. No, I can’t live life like this anymore. I’m too young to go through this.”

She left. Not only that, but she also initiated a divorce nobody could talk her out of. It wasn’t her fault. If I were her, I would have left long before sh!t hit the fan. It was when she left that I came back to my senses, but it was too late. Nobody could trust me again. I lost my wife when I was still jobless. I couldn’t extend my rent, so I had to move back to my parents. I was the smartest among my siblings, but at forty-one, I still live with my parents, beginning life all over again.

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Betting took everything from me, even my age. I haven’t done it in close to five months. Healing takes time and it comes slowly, but to put my life where it belongs will take a lifetime. I’m still on it. I’ll get back on my feet again, but let this story be a ringing bell to you if you haven’t started betting. If you’re already doing it, I pray you win at life and stop betting. In betting, no one wins.

—Duncan

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