He was studying abroad when we started dating. On the phone, he was a perfect boyfriend. We could talk every day and night. On video calls, he made me laugh until we hung up. We planned our wedding while he was away. Everything we needed for the wedding, he bought before he came to Ghana.

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When he finally got here, we spent a night together before he went home. We had our first kiss and our first intimacy. He didn’t last. About two minutes and he was done. He blamed it on the ice in him, “You know I just came down. The ice has to melt before you see proper action.”

Actually, I wasn’t bothered. I loved the fact that he was with me and I was with him. From that day, anytime we got intimate, he was worried about how fast he finished the game. He blamed it on the ice, blamed it on his worries, and blamed it on his wandering mind until he got to, “You’re too sweet. Don’t blame me for getting there early.”

As I said, it didn’t bother me a lot until we got married and he started thinking it was normal for him to reach his destination that quickly. I was planning on how to start a conversation without hurting his pride. Each angle I looked at it from felt like it would hurt, so I took my time and started suggesting herbal drugs. He said he would be fine, “Oh, don’t worry, I know how to get better. Just leave it to me.”

I suggested we see a specialist too. He said he was going to be alright. We’ve been married for over a year now and it’s still the same. The fact that we haven’t been able to conceive is also making me worried. So one night, after he was panting from doing it for only two minutes, I said, “I’m worried. The way you don’t want to take medicine and also don’t want to see a specialist is worrying me. It’s no longer about the two minutes, but the fact that we haven’t been able to conceive.

I was gentle about it. I said it with calm and love in my voice. I was wifely because I didn’t want to hurt his pride or mess with his fragile ego. Just when I finished talking, he buried his face in his palm and started crying. I was like, “Ah, what is happening? What did I say wrong?”

He sobbed for several minutes while I sat there begging him to forgive me if I said something wrong. He said, “Does that mean you’re cheating on me? If I’m not man enough, does that mean you’ve been pretending with me?”

I answered, “But you already know about this issue. This is not the first time I’m talking about it with you. I’ve even suggested you see a doctor.” He answered, “This hurts. You mean everything I’ve been doing over the years didn’t hit the spot? Is that what you’re telling me?”

My husband cried like a baby and accused me of hurting his feelings. I had to apologize for telling him what was worrying me. The next morning, he went to work without saying goodbye. When we met in the evening, he was giving me an attitude. When I served him his food, he ate it in silence even when I was busy asking about his day. When we went to bed, I apologized and promised it wasn’t going to happen again.

The next day, he spoke to me normally and we took it from there. Since then, I have to beg him for intimacy. He would tell me, “I hope you don’t tell me I’m not man enough after everything.” He would do it for two to three minutes, face the wall, and sleep as if he had climbed Mount Afadja.

He needs help and he knows it, but if I say it right now, it will turn to tears, so I just have to take what he gives without complaining. That aside, I haven’t been able to conceive after a year of being married. I know it could be normal, but I need a doctor’s opinion.

My husband doesn’t want to hear about a doctor, herbs, or medicine. He’s okay strumming my strings for only two minutes. He’s okay with whatever he gives. I’m not okay. That aside, I’m worried that we might not give birth. How do I go about this issue without drawing tears from him?

—Vicky

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