I gave birth one month ago. It wasn’t an easy journey for me but my husband was with me through it all. When I was too tired to cook, he cooked a concoction that worried our tummies but it made us full so I was full of appreciation. He washed, he cleaned, he massaged my feet and put my head in a better position when I fell asleep. I prayed and thanked God for a husband like him.

I know my husband’s appetite for sex. From dating till we got married, this man would want it all week. I could call him on the phone and ask what he would eat and he would tell me, “Look at food asking me what I would eat. Don’t cook anything. I don’t want you to burn.”

Some days were hard but I tried my best to give it to him however he wanted it. People celebrate good news with alcohol. When they win they drink. When they lose they drink. My husband is not about that. When he wins, he runs home for sex. When he loses, he would mournfully take me in and swallow me in one piece.

There are disadvantages. I discussed it with him. That it made me tired. That it made me feel like that was all he wanted from me. And it made me feel like he’d cheat if I wasn’t able to put sex on the menu.

There are advantages too. I didn’t discuss that with him. To be desired every day by the man you married is a great feeling. It gives you the assurance that no matter what life takes from you, what the seasons take away or add, you’ll come home to meet a man who finds you desirable, regardless. When friends complained of dead bedrooms and made it look like a normal occurrence in marriage, I said in my head, “Then me and my husband are not normal because we can’t relate.”

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When the pregnancy started showing me shege, I pushed my husband away anytime he wanted it. After six months of carrying that baby, our room went dry. There were no morning moaning or evening ones. He slept in the hall because he didn’t want to be tempted. He knew I wasn’t fine and he understood me but it didn’t cure his desire to be on top of me. He was only staying disciplined to the course.

Three weeks after delivery, he came knocking on my pelvis. I squeezed it up and said no. I felt I wasn’t healed enough. One month later, he was back again. By this time, I didn’t want to even see him close to me. Three months later, my feelings for him and for sex were zilch. We took the bigger share of the bed, me and the baby so he was forced to sleep in the hall where he wouldn’t have to sneak his fingers where angels fear to tread.

He stopped asking and began going with the flow. He saw me naked and didn’t bother. When the baby was with my mom and we were alone, he still didn’t care. The places he made attempts on me, he saw me there and blinked. As if I wasn’t visible. “No, this man is having it somewhere else,” I said to myself. I hunted for his phone until I got it one evening.

My fear was confirmed. He was seeing another woman. A woman whose photos looked like she had it all but sex. She’s more polished than me, more refined in her words and in her requests. You read through the messages and smell how she adores my husband’s prowess. She called him with appellations. She gave him fans. From my husband’s response, you could imagine his head swelled anytime the lady called him those names.

She isn’t just a lady but a married woman with two children. In the semi-nude photos she sent to my husband, her wedding band was visible. She didn’t even try to hide. They don’t just enjoy each other’s flesh, the woman sends food to his office too. My husband goes there after work sometimes to eat and cuddle before coming home.

No, I wasn’t shocked, hurt or scared. I took the blame and carried it on my shoulder. How can I deny the beast his pound of flesh for six months? Definitely, he will grow wild and eat me for dinner. That was what my husband was doing.

I took the blame but didn’t keep mute. I confronted him with the phone in my hand. He chuckled, turned to his other side and slept. My mom would have heard us fight and get worried so I didn’t pursue him for an answer. In the morning he told me, “Do you think it’s my joy to go after a married woman when I have a married woman in my house? You pushed me.”

I agreed. Though my hormones and everything in me may not allow it, I told him I was going to change so he should come back home. He should come back to the woman who gave him all. We talked about it like adults do. It’s the greatest challenge of our marriage but I learned if I forgive him and also forgive myself, the two of us would go through problems but come out victorious.

It’s been months, he still goes to the woman. The only thing different now is that he lies about it. For some reason, I’ve developed the nose to smell the difference each time he returns from the woman but he would lie about it. He would tell me it’s in my head as if I don’t know how I feel. When I go silent, he also goes silent. These days, he does it without passion. He does it as a duty I demand and not as something he enjoys. I see it and it makes me sad.

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So I’m doing some digging of my own. I’ll locate the husband of the woman. Each time I suspect the two of them are together, I’ll blow the alarm on them. If my husband is able to escape and comes home alive, I may be the one to dress his wounds and put him to rest. I believe that will be better than dressing emotional wounds every day because of a husband who won’t change. To me, nothing will break them apart until something is broken in them. A bone maybe and not his heart because I need him alive.

—Efia

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