The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted to marry her. It wasn’t only about her beauty. There was an aura about her that was just pure. You would want to protect her with your life. That’s how I felt. It was like a call to watch over her and be her fiercest fighter. This is someone whose name I hadn’t even learned yet.

When I finally spoke to her, it came to light that she was a Muslim. I am a Christian so you can imagine how discouraged I felt. Regardless, I wanted to get to know her. “I have a son,” she told me. “I also have three sons,” I responded. We can raise our children together, I discussed with her. She didn’t have a problem with it. The problem had to do with her family. “They will not accept you until you convert to Islam,” she cautioned.

Fully aware of the challenge I might face, I still went ahead to pursue a relationship with her. She loved me so she didn’t drag on her answer unnecessarily. Her only concern was her family. “We will cross the bridge when we get there,” I assured her. I was determined to win her family’s hearts by all means. In my mind, if they fall in love with me, it won’t matter to them that I am a Christian.

When her mother passed, I stepped in and took care of her younger siblings as though they were my children. A while into the relationship she came to live with me. This was after we had tried several times to get her family’s approval for us to get married. True to her warning, her family refused to give me her hand in marriage unless I “Tuba” – convert to Islam.

I explained to them, “Just because I am a Christian doesn’t mean I will force her to go to church with me. She can continue with the Islamic faith while I go on with my own faith. Nothing has to change for us to be a happy family.” They listened to everything but still shook their head and said no. My family tried to intervene but they didn’t succeed.

We loved each other and wanted to be together regardless of their disapproval. So she moved in with me. This was even a ploy to get them to allow us to get married. It failed miserably. Even after all that opposition, we went ahead and lived our lives. Out of our relationship came a daughter. She is beautiful. Cute as a button, just like her mother.

We stayed together for thirteen years. I know that I tried everything humanly possible to get her family’s approval but they wouldn’t budge. We were a happy family but it didn’t matter to them. Three years ago, they brought a Muslim guy into the picture. Their wish was for my woman to marry him. We thought we could fight them and win.

This man they insisted she had to marry was no better man than me. All they wanted was for their daughter to marry a Muslim man. It didn’t matter to them that the man wasn’t financially sound enough to take care of a family. They came at us with everything until my woman got fed up and agreed to the marriage.

Right from the beginning of her marriage, she was running to me for financial assistance. I was taking care of seventy per cent of the expenses in their home. I did it because of my daughter and stepson who were living with their mother. Those innocent children didn’t need to suffer because of the poor decisions some adults made for all of us.

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My ex and her husband now have a daughter together as well. Financial struggles aside, the guy is uncouth. He insults her at the least provocation. Even if they were in public, he would disgrace her miserably. She tells me other things that happens in their home and it saddens me. Why would her family take her away from a perfectly happy home and plunge her into the arms of a man who maltreats her? All because of religion? What happened to humanity?

Last week she called me. “You have to rent a room for me,” were the first words that greeted me. She didn’t wait for me to respond before she started talking about how tired she felt. “I am fed up with this marriage, Frank. I want to quit but I can’t go back to my parents’ house. They will just send me back. You are all I have left.” If I agree to rent for her, I will be breaking up her marriage.

I Didn’t Tell Anybody Because I Enjoyed It

Although I have seen proof that it’s a bad marriage, I am not sure that it’s my place to break it up. She told me if I don’t help them now, I will have no choice but to help in the event that something happens. “Do you remember how you helped me and my siblings when our mother passed?” She said a similar situation would happen again if she stays in the marriage. She would be dead and the children will become my responsibility.

I want to do everything possible to be there for her but this is her marriage we are talking about. What do I do? Should I help her run from the marriage? Or I should stay out of it?

—Frank

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