I met Ansah in school. He was in his final year and I was in my second year. Young love. When we first started, I thought I had found my soul mate. He brought certain feelings into my life I didn’t think I had. I would wake up at dawn thinking about him and the things he said to me. “Because of you, I’m a changed person,” He said, “I would go out there after school, work my heart out to get a job. By the time you complete school, I would be working. We will get married and you’ll live with me.” This statement rang a bell in my heart anytime I thought of him. He said this to me after I had told him my problems—after I had told him the situation in my house.
Going to the university was a miracle for me. I have three older siblings. None of them were able to go to the university because our parents couldn’t afford it. When I completed Senior high school, I was so determined to go to school that I started working immediately. I started as a shop attendant. I worked as a cook and later graduated to become a waitress. A few months later, I started doing mobile money transfer. Anything at all to raise money. Two years later, I had enough to take me to school. I knew if I start, I will get help from family members. If you ask people to help you pay your fees, they are likely to incline.
I didn’t want to complete school and go back to the house. I was very honest with Ansah about that. I told him, “I don’t want to go back to that house after school. I want to do my service and get a job immediately. In between, I will need someone’s help and I should be glad if that someone is you.” He made a promise. I believed him but as we all know, life doesn’t go according to our plans. While we make our plans, life also makes plans for us. When Ansah completed national service, he couldn’t land a job as he wanted. He was home when I started my national service but I loved him nonetheless. I prayed for him. I urged him on and promised that I would be there for him.
I was posted in a village somewhere in the Ashanti region for my service. He was in Accra but he traveled there often to visit me. He came empty-handed every day. He ate the little I’d struggled to buy. He told me of his dreams and how close he got to a job until something bad happened. I was struggling but his struggle looked bigger than mine. I was his woman. I could only hope and send support his way each time.
What our men mostly don’t know is the number of men who approach us each day, trying to get into our lives. Even if they know, they underestimate the number and the pressure these external men bring into our lives. I had about four proposals each day from the village I was doing my national service. My boss proposed to me. His assistance did. Our national service coordinator proposed to me. The guy at the bank where I withdrew my national service allowance was also after me. I went around saying no to all of these men because I had Ansah in my life. My boss was persistent. He promised me heaven and earth. His assistance said, “Don’t mind that old man. He’s off the street. Look at me. I’m the latest model. I can turn your life around.” I would call Ansah in the evening and tell him about all these proposals and we’ll laugh about it.
There was one proposal I couldn’t tell him about. I met a gentleman at the bank one day. He spoke to me and later drove me to my station. He took my number and we talked for days. A week later he proposed and I said no. He asked why and I told him I already had a boyfriend. He said, “He’s just a boyfriend. You are allowed to date another person. That way, you get to know whose intentions are pure so you decide.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ansah about that guy. There was something I like about him. There was something that said I should give him attention and see.
Another thing our men don’t know. We will talk about the proposals we get from other men only when we don’t like those who proposed to us. But those we secretly admire, we hide their proposals from our men. I didn’t talk about this guy to Ansah. He was the card I was keeping to my chest—the surprise ace for the final showdown. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him but I kept him around all the same. He called one day to tell me he was going back to Accra but he’ll still keep in touch.
One day, I visited Ansah in Accra and spent the weekend with him. From corner to corner of his room were decorated with betting tickets. I asked him, “Since when did you start doing this?” He said, “I don’t really do it. Once in a while when I’m bored, I do it just for the fun of it.” What I saw in his room wasn’t once in a while affair. It looked like a serious business. It brought my mind to all the money he had taken from me as loans that he didn’t pay back. I asked, “So the loan you take from me, is that what you use it for?” He said, ”Don’t get it twisted. I say I do it once in a while.”
I was with him on Friday evening. He left home on Saturday morning around 11am. I didn’t see him again until 9pm. I called his phone he didn’t pick. Later he texted me. He said, “It’s noisy where I am. I will call you later.” All day I was on the phone chatting with the guy I met at the bank. He was always there when I needed him. I ignored him often but he never held it against me. Ansah came in the evening and had a mile-long betting ticket in his pocket.
“You went around doing bet? You have enough money to do all that?”
“But where do you think I get money from? I don’t work. Where possible can I raise money from?”
“You get it from betting? It means you’ve been winning, right? So why don’t you pay what you owe me?”
“I don’t win every day. Somedays I win. Oftentimes I lose. It’s the rule of the game.”
Sunday too he went and came later in the evening. He didn’t pick my calls until he came back home. I asked him, “When was the last time you applied for a job? He said, “I’ve applied several times and they didn’t call me. I’m still on it.” I asked, “When was the last time?” He said, “I don’t remember.” I said, “Get your life in order. You’re too smart to be staking bet day in and day out. Do something better than that.”
When I got back to my station I told him, “A man proposed to me. He drove me home the other day and since then he had been on me.” He asked, “What did you tell him?” I answered, “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” He asked me, “That means you like him?” I said, “I already have you. I can’t have another.” He asked, “So why don’t you tell him to fuck off?” I said, “He’s kind. I can’t look at him and tell him that.” He said, “Women. Because he has a car and drove you home, all of a sudden he’s kind so you can’t tell him to leave you alone?” “It’s not about the car,” I said. “He’s way too kind.”
I did all that to get him jealous so he can act. He will call me and I wouldn’t pick. He’ll ask why and I will tell him “the guy I met at the bank was here.” He would get angry. He’ll ask for his number so he could call and tell him to back off. I told him, “He’s nothing to me and he won’t be anything to me. If you love me that much please do something with your life. You made a promise, remember?”
One day, I was on a bus going to visit the guy I met at the bank when Ansah called. He said, “I’m on my way coming to see you.” I said, “Then you won’t meet me because I’m on my way home to see my parents.” He asked, “And you didn’t tell me?” I said, “You also didn’t tell me you would be coming?” He said, “Alright. I will go back but I will see you next weekend.”
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I was in a shop with the guy I met at the bank when I felt a tap on my shoulder, then a voice followed; “So this is where your parents live, right?” I knew the voice. It was Ansah. He wouldn’t let me talk. He held my hand and pulled me outside. The guy I met at the bank followed. Ansah screamed, “You see I’ve caught you? You can’t lie to God. What are you doing here and who is that guy?” The guy I met at the bank said, “Hey calm down. She’s just a friend. Stop creating a scene.” Ansah screamed back, “If you know what is good for you, you’ll back off.”
I said, “He’s the guy I told you about. I paid him a visit.” He screamed, “I knew it. I knew it would get to this point. He’s rich and I’m not, right? You’re throwing yourself on him because he’s rich right. You’ve even started sleeping with him. I never knew you’re a cheap whore?” The guy I met at the bank held my hand to pull me away. I told him, “Don’t worry, I can handle this.” I said, “He’s just a friend. I’m in a hotel. I don’t even know where he lives yet. He got the hotel room for me but he hasn’t been there. I’m not a whore and you know it.”
He sent me a breakup message the following day. I told the guy I met at the bank about it. He said, “I would have behaved the same way if I was in his shoes. He’s only angry but if you still love him and want to keep him, go to him and apologize. He might change his mind.” It was a Sunday. I went to his house and apologized. He kept calling me a whore. He said he wouldn’t have anything to do with a whore. But the sad thing is, when I was about to leave, he pulled me to himself trying to sleep with me. I forced myself out of his grip. I left him there.
Five years later, I’m married to the guy I met at the bank. We had our first child a year after marriage—a boy. Our second child is on the way coming. We’ve been happy and have been able to build a home both of us are comfortable coming to. Ansah is a friend. We talk once in a while. He talks about his regret and wasted opportunities. The most important thing now is that he has found himself a work that pays him enough to take life by the horn. I asked him, “I hope you’ve stopped the betting thing?” He said, “I’m trying to stop. Once in a while, I do it but I make sure that I bet responsibly.” I asked, “Do you often win?” He said, “It’s still the same. You win some, you lose some. That’s what keeps us going.”
“You win some. You lose some.” That sounds like a metaphor for my life. I’ve lost a lot. I won when the man I met at the bank asked me to marry him just a year after dating. It’s a win I don’t take for granted. Did I lose when I let Ansah go? I don’t think so.
