Dadson was in the Netherlands when we met on Facebook. It was an ordinary day on Facebook when he came into my DM, telling me he wanted us to be friends because he had followed me for a very long time and liked the way I thought about things. He asked for my number, and I gave it to him, so we took the conversation to WhatsApp. He called me on video the very first day, and when I picked up, he called me beautiful.

We talked for one month before he proposed. I told him I didn’t like the distance. He said, “When it comes to love, distance is nothing. I will treat you in a way that you wouldn’t even notice there’s a distance between us.”

I believed him. Even before he proposed, he had made me believe he could make the distance disappear. I said yes to him, and we started dating.

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A few weeks later, Dadson connected me with a guy he said was his elder brother, Philip. He was in Ghana. He asked him to look out for me and also tell the other siblings that he had found his missing rib.

Philip would also call every now and then. He called me, “My brother’s wife.” He said, “Make him marry you when he returns. Everyone wants him to settle down.”

Marriage wasn’t something I was comfortable discussing with someone I had met barely a month ago, but when Dadson started talking about sex and how he couldn’t wait to be under my skin, I told him I wouldn’t want to do that until we were married.

He retorted, “Who do you think we are? Are we not already married in your eyes? In my heart and soul, we are married ooo.”

I told him it wasn’t about saying we were married but doing the necessary things that showed we were married.

He spoke to my dad on the phone and thanked him for giving birth to a beautiful, good-hearted woman like me. When he spoke to my mom, he thanked her for raising a virtuous woman like me who would soon become his wife. He enchanted everyone he spoke with, but to be honest, the speed scared me a little bit. We had known each other for barely three months, and this guy spoke like we had met in our previous life.

Four months after we started dating, he told me he was coming to Ghana.

When we met at the airport and hugged, it felt like I belonged to his chest, like the space there was created for me. I fit perfectly.

I got him a hotel, but I didn’t want to sleep there with him. If I had spent the night with him there, he wouldn’t have had to do anything. The way I was in love and my heart was beating fast, I would’ve been the one to even initiate it. To avoid that situation, I told him I wouldn’t want to spend the night with him.

He didn’t force it or even try to persuade me. He said he understood everything and was fine, as long as I wasn’t too far from him.

He spent three days with me before he left for his hometown to meet his people. When he came back, he came with Philip.

Philip said, “Aunt Bertha and Wofa Agyei are ready. They say they want the date.”

I asked what date, and he responded, “I’m ready to do the knocking now, so upon my next return, we can do the main thing.”

Two days later, he was in my house with Philip, his aunt, and their Wofa Agyei, who was their Abusuapanyin, performing the knocking rite. I kept asking myself, “Is this happening? Or am I dreaming? Isn’t this bus moving too fast?”

He got the list and promised he would buy everything upon his return the following year. He dashed my dad and mom some euros before finally departing with his family.

That very evening, we met, and I surrendered all to him. The connection was great. The passion was over the top. From there, every time we met, we did it. He called me “Wifee,” and I responded, “Husbee.”

He left Ghana after four weeks, and the very day he left, I had a call from a lady who introduced herself as Mavis. She asked if I knew Dadson. I said yes. She asked if he had performed the knocking rite, and I said yes.

She said, “Then you’re one of us.”

I was confused.

She asked if she could add me to a group. A few seconds later, I was on a WhatsApp group with three other ladies. Mavis introduced me and told them she had found me. I was still lost.

All the other ladies welcomed me and started calling me “rival.” When they shared their stories, I laughed. It was on a group video call. Dadson had performed the knocking rite for all these ladies, and two of them were pregnant for him.

Mavis said she found my number on his phone when he came to Ghana because he spent a night with her. She was one of the pregnant women. They said Dadson had been coming to Ghana at least every three months, and each time he came around, he came to perform a knocking rite for some lady so he could sleep with her.

The whole thing sounded like I was being pranked.

I called Dadson. Immediately I mentioned Mavis, he said, “Don’t tell me she called you.”

I said, “She did. Is it true? Are those women in your life?”

He said it was true that he had performed the knocking rite for them, but he changed his mind because the women cheated on him and were carrying pregnancies that were not his.

“You’re the one I want ooo. Don’t let them destroy us with their bitterness. Next year, we are getting married.”

I called Philip. I asked why he didn’t tell me the truth. He said everything Dadson said was true. I was the one he truly loved, so I shouldn’t leave.

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We still talk. I’m still in that group. The only question they’ve not been able to answer is why they are still with him and tracking other women in his life. Mavis said she was pregnant for him, but once the baby was out, she was done. The other pregnant one said he sends her money, so she would deliver and also leave the picture. The other one who wasn’t pregnant told me she didn’t even see him when he returned.

They still talk on that page, sharing screenshots and making fun of him. I don’t say much. I still don’t know what to do.

A part of me believes he’s telling me the truth because he doesn’t treat me the way he treats the other women. He keeps telling me to leave the group and not let them destroy us.

It’s like I just want to wait and see what will happen in the end, whether he will follow through with the marriage or I will become just one of the girls whose door he knocked on and ran away.

—Gina

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