We got married in 2017. My husband was a banker and it was in the bank that I found him. We dated for two years. He never made mention of his dreams to resettle abroad. It was after marriage that he started talking about moving abroad. I think a friend of his sold him the dream and he bought it. That friend made him believe that he could secure a visa for him so he could settle in America and later come back for me.  From day one I wasn’t in support of this traveling thing. I gave him my reason. I told him, “We just started life together. You have a good job and a great career. When you keep working hard, you’ll climb the ladder and become someone great. When that day comes, you can travel abroad anytime you want and come back at any time. We don’t have to go now and suffer when we can stay here and live life on our own terms.”

But his mind was made up. He talked about the hardship in the country and talked about the American dream; “I don’t want to live in Ghana and visit America once in a while. I want to live in America and visit Ghana once in a while. I want us to have our kids in America. I want them to go to a better school and have a better life. You and I know that it’s better for them there than here. Give me your mind and let’s do this together.” A wife supports her husband so I leaned into his idea and gave him all the support he needed.

Finally, he got the visa. It was somewhere in December 2017 when he got the visa. We used all our savings to push his abroad agenda so by the time the visa came, we had nothing on us. I took a loan from work and he also took a loan from friends to be able to finalize everything concerning his trip. Our marriage was just five months old when I walked with him to the airport and bade him goodbye. My heart was breaking. Living life alone here without my husband brought shivers down my spine but he seemed to have everything figured out. I couldn’t change anything so I gave him the necessary push for him to leave the shores of the country. 

 It started getting messy in the first month he got there. The friend he planned to go and live with changed states without telling him. He ended up living with a friend of the friend who changed state. Because he wasn’t a friend to that guy, living together became very difficult. After a week of staying with the guy, the guy started getting angry over little things so my husband to get his own place. He didn’t have the money. He wasn’t working. How was he going to pay for a place of his own? He asked me to raise some money to support him. Again, I went for a loan from work, sent it to him so he could get a place of his own.

Getting a place of his own wasn’t the end of the story. He didn’t have a job. Rent and other utility bills have to be paid so he resorted to doing menial jobs, just to pay rent. That was also difficult. He called on me again to help. I told him, “There are loans to pay. My salary has dwindled to an extent I can no longer secure a loan.” He said, “How about families? How about friends? How about your parents? Won’t they help when you go crying to them?” I told him, “Getting a loan isn’t a problem. All of these people would love to help me out but how do I pay them after getting the money? My salary is finished. I have bills of my own. I can’t keep living on loans. When I’m not able to pay, I might lose these people because of money. No, I won’t go that far.”

He got angry. He started talking about regrets of marrying a woman who wouldn’t go through the thin with him before the thick comes. I told him, “Young man, I’ve done my best. I’ve given you my everything but at this point in my life, there’s nothing more to give. If you can’t survive there, here’s home. Come back and let’s do it together here.” That got him angrier. “You want me to come back to Ghana in this state? With nothing in my hand? How do I pay those I owe? How do I face people? You want me to be called a failure?” He hang up the call and for many days, I didn’t hear from him. He spent one year living from hand to mouth in America. Sometimes, he didn’t know where he was going to spend the night because he didn’t have a place of his own. Anytime I asked him to come back home, It turned into a fight.

One day I called his line and he didn’t pick up. The next day when I called his line, it was off. I didn’t hear from him for over three months. I got worried. I spoke to his parents every day asking them if they’d heard from him. They also called me to ask if I’d heard from him. We explored all avenues to get in touch with him but it didn’t work. His father advised, “Don’t worry too much. It happens sometimes. One day he’ll call and tell us what happened. Until then, let’s keep praying for him.” 

The next time I heard of him, he was standing at the door knocking. He looked emaciated with blisters all over his mouth. He looked sick and hopeless. I screamed, “What happened to you? Why did you come without telling anybody? Is that a surprise?” He stood there motionless with tears coming from his eyes. He put his story in just three words; “I was deported.” I wanted to hug him and say, “It’s alright babe, you’re home now.” But I couldn’t hug him because I was scared he would break into two. He was too thin to survive my hug. The following day, I took him to the hospital, and was admitted on arrival. He spent one week at the hospital, always crying tears of regrets. I assured him, “You’re home—home with me and your family. We would take care of you. You’ll get back on your feet again because you’re a smart man. Don’t give up hope. Rests on God. Everything would be fine.”

The day he was discharged, he went straight to his parents’ house. It was my turn to cry. I wasted all I had on him but two years later, he came back empty-handed. Even after two years, I was still paying the loan I took from work. A loan I didn’t get any returns on. That was hard to take so I cried to release the pent-up pain in me. He spent three months with his parents. He didn’t want to come back. He was scared to face life again and was ashamed to see his old friends. Most of them were doing very well with the same job he ran away from.

He came back home and we started looking for a job for him. He wouldn’t make things easier for himself. Instead of him stepping out there and chasing a job, instead of him speaking to a couple of friends who could help him, he stayed in the room hiding from the same people who could help him get a job. When I complained he told me he was applying for jobs online. When I got frustrated and gave him a piece of my mind, he accused me of maltreating him. “You’re screaming at me because I don’t have a job?” He looked aimless, always crashing on the sofa waiting for me to come back from work and cook for him. 

And then there was Covid. And then the world started crashing down. And then companies started laying off people. He used that as an excuse to sleep in the house while I suffered in the sun raising money for our upkeep. A year later he was still in the house, eating, sleeping, and not contributing to anything. Of course, I complained. Of course, he explained. His explanation was, “I’m talking to people. People in high places who could help me. They’ve given me their words. waiting for them to take action.” When he gets angry, he rants; “You know also that I’ve been going out a lot lately, right? What do you think I go out there to do? Or you want me to start working in a place where I hadn’t been employed? How much are you spending on our upkeep that you won’t give me peace? Don’t worry, I will move and go to my parents so you can have your peace.”

He always mentioned that he was talking to people so one day I picked up his phone and checked the kind of people he was talking to. That was when I got the shock of my life. 

There was a lady he was dating before I came into the picture. The lady traveled long before we even got married. She traveled to Canada and had become a Canadian citizen. My husband was in contact with this lady, begging her to come for him. He told her how I’ve been maltreating him because of his situation and even went to the extent of telling her, “My wife is sleeping with her boss and I can’t ask questions all because she’s the one taking care of me. I just want to call for a divorce. I’m just waiting for the right time. Just put in an effort for me. I will divorce her very soon so we can be together.” To make matters worse, the lady was responding positively to my husband’s demands.

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That night I went crazy. I read almost all the messages on his phone and didn’t see a single message where he was asking for help from anyone. I woke him up from sleep and started asking him questions. 

“So when are you going to divorce me?”

“What sort of question is that? Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok. I’ve read your messages. The plans you’re hatching with your Canadian ex. I’ve read everything. So tell me, when are you going to divorce me for sleeping with my boss?”

“How did you get my password? And why would you go through my phone? What are you looking for?”

“After everything I’ve read you still have the gut to ask what I’m looking for from your phone? You owe me answers and not me.”

He said he had no answers. He told me to do my worse so I reported him to his parents. His explanation was almost laughable. That he was lying to the girl just to get favors from her. So I asked him, “If the girl comes with the help that you require, you mean you won’t travel with her? Is that what you’re telling me?” He didn’t answer me but started spinning the lies about me maltreating him because he doesn’t have a job. I said, “Dear, all I have ever done to you is push you to get a job. I cook for you and I wash for you. I do all the domestic work in the house and still give you money when you ask. Where is the maltreatment?”

His father likes me so much and his mother carries me on her shoulders because of everything I’ve been through for their son. They are the ones who have pleaded with me to forgive. His father said, “Obviously he wants to travel again so he’ll say anything to anyone who will help him travel. He’s lying to the girl. He can’t divorce you. We won’t even allow that to happen so stay calm and protect your marriage.”

In essence, there’s nothing to protect. There’s a man who would rather go about lying to people instead of working out his own fate. Is that man worth fighting for? He doesn’t work and doesn’t want to push for work. His dream is to travel and leave me here. Is such a man worth fighting for?

Since that incident, he hasn’t come home. He’s still living with his parents but I know one thing for sure, that is, in my heart and soul, this marriage is over. We are only keeping the shadow from light so we can believe we have something going on. To me, we are over but yet to make it official. Am I being too harsh on him? If I leave today will society judge me harshly that I left a man because he has no job? That I wasn’t willing to help pick him up? Tell me the truth and I will listen. Do I have a just cause to walk out of this marriage?” 

—Jacinta

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