When I met Lucy, I was not looking for perfection. I was looking for a woman with a good heart and a clear sense of responsibility. The first day I saw her, I noticed how gently she held her daughter’s hand and how she spoke to her with patience and firmness. I remember thinking to myself that if I ever had children, I wanted a mother like that for them. When I told her how I felt, she looked me straight in the eyes and said she was not ready for another relationship. She said she had walked out of a five year marriage not long ago and she wanted peace, not love. I respected that and stayed around her as a friend for almost a year. I did not force her. I did not rush her. I just stayed.

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One day, she told me the only reason she would give me a chance was if I was ready for marriage. She said she did not want to be seen as a woman who ran away from one marriage just to become someone’s girlfriend. I understood her. I was ready. I had waited for the right person and she felt like the right person. That was how we started.

Her daughter became my daughter almost immediately. I did not try to replace her father but I gave the child a shoulder she could lean on. I picked her up from school sometimes. I helped with homework. I bought things she needed without being asked. When Lucy asked whether my family would accept her fully, I assured her that my family cared more about my happiness than anything else. True to my words, my family welcomed her. They did not judge her for being a divorcee or for coming with a child.

She had divorced for over three years when we decided to marry. The house she lived in was part of her divorce settlement. So was the car she drove. I saw it as a blessing, not a problem. Instead of renting, we could build our lives in a place she already owned. So I moved in with her and we began our marriage.

In the beginning, her only contact with her ex husband was about child support. He was abroad, so they communicated only when the support delayed or when he wanted to speak to the child. I was fine with it. It was the right thing to do. A father has the right to speak to his child.

Everything changed the day he relocated back to Ghana.

Suddenly he was showing up every weekend to take the girl out. He would bring her home late in the evening and my wife would leave me in the house to go and sit in his car for long conversations. At first I ignored it but people noticed. My friends asked me why I was allowing such disrespect. They wanted to know if I was not the man of the house. They wanted to know if I was not bothered that my wife spent more time talking to her ex husband.

I spoke to her about it and she dismissed everything. She told me people were not feeding us so I should ignore them. I told her I was the one talking. I told her I was not comfortable. She laughed and said I was overthinking. When I insisted, she got angry. She began acting as if I was trying to separate her from the father of her child.

I spoke to her father hoping he would understand. He assured me he would talk to her. I believe he did but nothing changed.

One evening, when her ex husband brought the girl home, I met him at the gate. I took the child inside and returned to have a man to man conversation with him. Before I could say anything, my wife appeared and stood between us. I was like, “Please excuse us because we need to talk.” She asked, “Talk about what? What do you have to talk about with him?” I told her it was between men and she should excuse us. She refused. She stood there until I spoke.

I explained myself to the man with respect. I told him he was welcome to see his daughter but the long conversations in the car were making things uncomfortable. “You might not have a bad intention but the world would look at the situation and judge so please, can you bring her early? And can you leave as soon as you bring her?”

He understood. He even thanked me. I saw respect in his eyes when he said, “I haven’t thought about it that way.” He left peacefully.

The moment he drove off, my wife’s anger exploded. “What was that about? Do you know this house belongs to him? How can you tell him not to come to his own house? Did you come with a house? Where is it?” She broke me with those words. She made me feel like a man without a foundation. She made me feel like a tenant in a house I was calling my home.

I told her, “Oh, so it’s about the house? Why didn’t you tell me all this while?” I moved out quietly. Not because I was angry but because I wanted to create a home where my dignity would not be shredded. I stayed with my friend while searching for a place. I called her often to ask about the child. She asked when I was coming home and I told her I was finding a home for us. It took longer than I expected but I finally got a two bedroom house on the outskirts of town.

When I returned to pick up my things, she told me, “I’m pregnant. We are going to have a child. This is not the time to leave.” I congratulated us and still packed. I told her, “I have a place for us. You can move in whenever you’re ready.” She refused. She said the place was too far from her work and her daughter’s school. She said she could not inconvenience her life because of my ego. She has not visited the house once. She has not even tried to see where I live.

Is There A Perfect One Out There For Everyone?

She is using my parents to pressure me to return. My father says she is pregnant so I should be with her. My mother wants peace and says it is better to endure than to separate. But I am standing my ground. For the first time, I want to be a man who provides shelter for his family. I want a place I can call my home without being reminded of where I came from.

Am I being too difficult? Should I go back because of the pregnancy? Am I wrong for wanting my own roof over my head. Deep down, I am only asking for respect. I want to build something that is mine. Something that belongs to the family I am creating. Is that too much for a man to ask?

—Man Tim

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