My mother-in-law doesn’t talk to me. She visits our home and stays for as long as she wants, but she wouldn’t talk to me and would sometimes frown when she sees me.

We were very fine when I was dating her daughter. I had a very good job then, so anytime I was visiting them, I went with my hands full. Aside from that, I gave them money before I left. My wife’s dad could even call me on the phone and make demands. I wasn’t bothered as long as I could provide what he was asking for.

A few months after we got married, my father-in-law died. I can boast about the fact that I single-handedly paid for the funeral. My wife is the elder sister and was the only one working, so her siblings relied heavily on her. Whatever they asked for, I provided through my wife until the funeral was done.

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Not long after the funeral, disaster happened. I lost my job. I call it a disaster because it happened suddenly, and the effect swept over me like a tsunami. I cried for days. I felt my existence had come to an end. My wife was with me every step of the way, encouraging me. She said I was going to find a new job, which I knew I would, but the question was, would it be as good as the one I’d lost?

I started searching for a new job, but it was hard. Just around that same period, my wife got a promotion and was given a house and a car. We were overjoyed. It felt like God had answered our prayer in a different form from what we requested. We moved into the new house, and her mom moved in with us. That was when the disdain started.

When my wife went to work and left the two of us in the house, this woman acted like I was a beggar in the house. She could shout at me when I was pouring milk into my food.

“Hey, hey, hey! Do you want to pour all the milk into your food? Do you know how much milk costs?”

If she saw me eating in the house, she would walk by where I was eating and say, “That’s all he knows, eating and getting fat. Use it to look for a job.”

This went on for a while before, one day, I told my wife about it. I wasn’t angry. I only asked her to talk to her mom and ask her to give me a little respect. She asked for the story, and I told her everything her mom had said to me and how she had been treating me. My wife got mad, first at me for not telling her earlier, and then she charged towards her mom.

“Mom, it should never happen again. Not in this house. I saw how you respected my dad. I want to do the same for my husband, and if you want to live here with us, you’ll accord him the same respect.”

My wife’s warning didn’t change anything. If anything, it got worse, but once I knew I had my wife’s support, I ignored my mother-in-law. This woman would look at my face and say, “All you do is eat, but when we talk, then you run to your wife. A man who runs to his wife, are you even a man?”

So I left the house with my wife in the morning and came home with her in the evening. While she went to work, I went out there to look for opportunities. But guess what? When the house needed anything, my mother-in-law would intentionally ask me for money for it. If I couldn’t provide, then she would disrespect me.

My wife knew there was tension between us, and she didn’t like it, so she asked her mom to go back home and leave us alone. Her mom fought back.

“You’re sacking your mom because of a man? A man who can wake up tomorrow and leave you?”

My wife responded, “A man who provided when he had it all. He was the reason we could give Dad a befitting burial. You’ve forgotten so soon? I’m not sacking you. Just give us a break.”

A few weeks after her mom had left, I got a call for an interview. Days later, I got the call asking me to start work as soon as possible. I was so happy I didn’t know how to handle myself. I’d been home for close to three years, enduring the vitriol from my mother-in-law. My wife even had a party for me.

Out there, her mom had spread the news that her daughter had sacked her because of me, that it was her daughter who had been taking care of me, and that I ran to her like a baby. She even said I’d taken her daughter to juju, the only reason her daughter could sack her from the house. We laughed when we heard this, but after I got the job, I told my wife there was no reason to let her mom stay out there.

“She’s your mom. If she wants to live with us, allow her. After all, the problem she had with me is resolved. Let her come if she wants to.”

My wife listened, but before she could come over, we talked. I even apologised to her if I had ever said something that made her change her mind towards me. She accepted my apology, and she also did the same. She came to visit first and went back, and then came back again.

I’m working. I provide for the house, but this woman still doesn’t respect me. I returned from work one evening and overheard her talking to someone on the phone. She said, “Aware bɔne diɛ, me ba no akɔ bi ooo. Her husband doesn’t do anything around here. It’s rather my daughter who provides for him.”

I stood there for a while, and then I coughed to let her know I was around. I greeted her when I entered. I thought my presence would make her stop, but she continued, “He just entered with his big bag as if he caters for Ghana’s economy, but he doesn’t have teee!”

When she asks for something from her daughter and she doesn’t get it, I’m the one she insults. She says her daughter is spending all her money on me, which is the reason she doesn’t have enough for her. She told one of her daughters, my wife’s younger sister, that if I had money, I wouldn’t be walking up and down in worn-out shoes while her daughter drives a beautiful car. And that how can I take care of a woman who has her own car while I walk to work?

It gets frustrating sometimes, but I’m patient with her because I don’t want to be the reason my wife would sack her again. Her mind about me is not good, especially because she believes I’ve used juju on her daughter. I’m scared that if she leaves this house, she would go out there looking for answers and attack me spiritually. The kind of hate she harbours can easily lead her to do that.

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So I’m tolerating her, but my mental health is being attacked. When I see her, my heart skips. She frowns, and I get disturbed. To be honest, sometimes I’m scared when I’m eating in this house. I don’t know what she might have placed in my food. So I eat from the same plate as my wife. I drink from the same cup as her. She can’t hurt her daughter, so I’m only safe when I lean on her.

I know she has to go, but is it a good move to push her out, looking at what she might do? That’s my only fear. Otherwise, I would have pushed her out long ago.

—Peter

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