I was twenty-two years old when I packed my things and left the village for Accra. I didn’t know where I was going or who I was going to live with but I knew I was tired of living in a town where nothing was moving for me after SHS. The uncle I was living with tried to have his way with me thrice and thrice God showed his face so I was able to go scot-free.

I couldn’t tell anybody about it. They would either not believe me or would tell my uncle and he would kick me out. So one bright morning when the sky was as empty as it could possibly be, I packed the little I had and left the town without saying goodbye to anybody.

I landed in Accra around 6pm and was thinking of where to go and spend the night when I remembered an old-time friend I used to be in school with. Grace. I called her and she told me she was out of Accra. I told her my situation and how desperate I was; “You were the one I had in mind when I was running away. I didn’t know you weren’t in Accra.”

I was lying just to court her sympathy. It worked. She asked me to give her some minutes and she called later to tell me someone was going to call me and give me directions. It was her senior sister who called. She gave me directions and after several failed attempts, I was able to get there around 9 pm. Erica was kind to me that night. She gave me something to eat and showed me a room I could spend the night.

Early the next morning, she came to call me and showed me where I could get food and how I could cook anything I wanted to eat. She left for work and left me alone in the house. The place was a mess, especially their bathroom. I used the day to clean up the whole place and arranged things the way living people arrange their things.

She was grateful when she came back from work. “We are not able to put our places together because of how life is here. You leave at dawn and come at night. Thank you for doing this.” A week later, Grace came back home. By that time I’d won her senior sister over so I had a place to stay.

Erica sent me one day and asked me to pick an Uber home and I did. The Uber driver was very nice to me. He helped me put the things I bought at the booth and engaged me in a conversation until I got home. By the time I got home, I had told him half of my story. The part where I ran from home to start life in Accra. He said we could be friends and I agreed.

So he called me often and even brought me food whenever he was around the neighbourhood, and he was around the neighbourhood very often. The friendship grew into what looked like interest and soon the interest grew into a full-blown relationship. A month or so into the relationship he told me, “I live alone. Why don’t you move in with me? I can find you something to do so you can raise money for your nursing school dreams.”

I didn’t shake my head. I was in love with a man who had a home. I was looking for a home and he willingly offered it to me so I jumped on it. Grace didn’t want me to leave. Erica was sad that I was leaving but I told them, “I don’t have to be a burden on you. I will find something to do and I will come and visit you often.

From there, everything happened so fast. He talked about marriage and I said yes. He asked me to take him home and there was no home to take him to so I called one of my aunts and told her about my intention to get married. I took him home to do the knocking and a month later, we went back to do the traditional marriage. It was very quick as if we were in a hurry to do life together.

He promised to find me a job but that never happened. After marriage, he relaxed on his promises. Even when I reminded him of the things he himself has promised me, he found it a nuisance so I carried myself around looking for a job. A company that worked with a bank closer to our place accepted to employ me as a cleaner. I took the job. They gave me the bank closer to me so I didn’t need to spend on lorry fare. It was ok for me.

My husband was providing for the house so I was able to save the little that I was earning. I wanted to go back to school and it was one of the promises he made me but after marriage, he pretended he didn’t say such a thing.

A year after marriage, I enrolled in an evening school. It wasn’t nursing. I was doing a DBS course. I told my husband I’d enrolled in an evening school and the problem of our marriage started. He stopped giving me money saying I had enough to go to school so I should have enough to take care of myself. Even utilities, he stopped paying.

He wanted a child. He wanted it as soon as possible meanwhile he only slept with me once in a week. Anytime I was in my menses, he won’t talk to me. He found it a betrayal. As if he put a seed in me and I decided to vomit the seed out. One day he told me, “You’re good for nothing. Why did I even marry you? A simple thing like pregnancy that even Kayayes are getting every minute, you can’t get it. Who sent you? Are you a devil sent to destroy my life?”

And the cheating started. He would go to work and would not come back but won’t tell me. When he comes back the next day and I ask where he went, this guy would be angry and threaten to beat me the next time I ask him that silly question. I didn’t stop asking him so one day he beat me as he promised.

He didn’t come home in the night and I was calling his phone all night. He didn’t pick up but later switched off his phone. He came home angry asking why I was disturbing his phone. I told him, “I’m your wife. I should know where you are.” He screamed, “Never open your mouth to call me your husband. You bad luck woman.”

He beat me mercilessly. I couldn’t fight or defend myself. I was like a punching bag hanging there defenselessly as every punch he threw landed where it hurt. Three days later, the owner of the car he was working with took his car from him.

He blamed me for being his bad luck. He said a lot of hurtful things to me but while he was home, I was the one feeding him, paying utilities and all. But that didn’t change a thing. He went out and came back three days later. I asked questions and he beat me because of that.

I wanted to leave the marriage but to where? I had no place to live and the money I had from work was going into my education so I couldn’t use it to rent a place. I couldn’t go back to Erica and Grace because their place was too far from my workplace. I had no option but to stay in the marriage and be abused.

One day he beat me. He was sleeping in the night when I picked a knife and put the pointed end at his neck and woke him up.

When he saw the knife he shivered. I told him, “I could have killed you in your sleep but I didn’t but let me tell you this, the next time you ever lay a hand on me again, one of us will die and I promise you, I won’t be the one who died. All I’ve done is love you. I don’t deserve what you do to me.”

He was shaken. He lay there looking at me, praying that I don’t push the knife into him. I was scared he could kill me too so for the rest of the night we both didn’t sleep. The next morning, he spoke to me gently and even gave me money to take care of the day. A week later, he got another car he could work.

Once he got the car, he started changing women. He started sleeping outside. I would call him and hear another woman’s voice in the background. I didn’t leave because I had nowhere to go. I had nowhere to go but I had a game plan; complete school and leave him the way I left the village.

One day I met a man on my way home. He gave me a lift so he got to know where I live. We became friends and later proposed to me. I was honest. I liked him but I told him I was married. He didn’t care. He still wanted me. I didn’t push him away because he started giving me money, money I needed desperately.

One evening he gave me a lift home but I was so broken I didn’t want to go home. I asked him, “Do you live alone?” He answered, “Yes I live alone.” I told him, “Take me to your house. There’s nothing home for me to go to.”

I hadn’t seen my husband in days. I hadn’t had sex in three months. I followed this man home and I made love to him like I’ve never done in my life. I did it with anger. I was fierce, like I was fighting unseen battles. My energy shocked him. He didn’t have to do anything. I was on top. I was in charge. After everything I told him, “Take me home. Whenever you want me, call me.”

He drove me home and push a bundle of money in my hand. I smiled. I felt like a prostitute being paid for doing a great job. I took the money and said thank you. I counted the money when I got home. It felt like a prostitute going over her money after a night’s work. It was GHC2,000. I told myself, “If he could give me GHC2,000 a night then he could equally rent a place for me.”

So when I met him the following day, I told him about my marriage and the cracks, the beatings and the walls that were coming down. “I need my own place so I could run away.”

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I went home with him again. I slept over. At dawn, I took a walk around the room. I saw family photos stacked in a corner. A beautiful woman with two kids and then a portrait of the whole family. I smiled and said sorry to the people in the portrait. I wasn’t angry. Actually, I was relieved to know we were both sinners. I didn’t tell him what I saw. In the morning, He gave me a cheque. “This will help. I guess.”

It was GHC8,000. That made it GHC10,000 in two days. I said thank you and left.

That night my husband came home. He thought I was going to ask questions but I didn’t. He walked around wearing a frown but I didn’t bother. The next day when he was leaving for work, I asked when he would come back and he chuckled. When he left, I also packed and left. I went to Grace and Erica. I cried like a baby and told them everything. They hugged me and told me I still had a place with them.

I changed my number so I could begin again. It took him a month to figure out where he could find me so one afternoon he appeared from nowhere. We were three girls against one. We nearly beat him. A month later, my aunt and uncles went to see his family and did the honourable thing so I can officially be out of the bandage I called marriage.

I got a new job. I invested the money I had in my school, completed it and move to do a degree course. I completed, did my national service and had a job a year later. All this while, I was living with Grace and Erica. That’s why the two girls are in every portrait hung on my wall. They are the real MVPs of my life. Those who say “Women are their own enemies” haven’t met Grace and Erica yet.

I met a man who wanted to marry me after national service. He looked like a good man but that was how Agyei looked like when he met me. It had been years but I still had the scars. I said no to him. He pushed for over a year. I said still no. There was no way I was going to live with a man again. The thought of it gives me triggers. I’m thirty-one now. I have a job and I have a comfortable place I lay my head.

On my 30th birthday, I had a tattoo. It’s a heart broken into two and an inscription under it that says, “Ego habeo cor.” It’s a Latin phrase that means “I still have a heart.”

Yes, I do but this heart I have is not made for loving a man enough to marry him. It’s made to pump blood to keep me alive. That’s all my heart does now. It’s broken but it works. Such an amazing little organ.

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What do I wish I knew before I got married? Everything. I wish I knew a man with a home doesn’t mean he could make you a home. I wish I knew looking for a place to live isn’t a reason to marry a driver who offers you a place to live. Maybe I won’t do it again but if I have to do it all over again, I will marry with a purpose and that purpose won’t be about looking for a place to live. I made a mistake with purpose. My next one, if it happens again, the purpose would be different. I will marry because there’s a purpose to it. 

—Afrakoma

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