My husband’s work takes him out of town, so very often, I live alone. He could be gone for a week or even a month. Since we got married three years ago, there hasn’t been a month when my husband hasn’t travelled away from me. At first, I used to worry, but he always calmed me down and said the bills were not going to pay themselves.

When I got pregnant, I was scared to live alone. I didn’t have it easy from the very first week. Some nights, my bones would feel so weak that I was scared I had no bones in me or that the ones I had had melted away. I would call him on the phone and cry. I would ask who would take me to the hospital should something happen to me.

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Out of frustration, he would scream, “Abena, so you want me to stop working and stay home with you?”

I felt he didn’t understand my frustration. He also felt I was asking for too much. One day, when he had to travel again, he told me he wanted his sister to come and live with me to keep me company and also be there in case I needed emergency help. I agreed with him immediately.

But before he travelled, his sister and mother arrived at the house. I asked why both of them had come, and he said, “My mom feels she can take care of you better.”

I didn’t like the idea, but I accepted living with them. When I complained of a stomach ache, his mom would enter the bush and return with some herbs, grind them and give me some to drink and some to take using a local syringe. Even when I had medication, this woman would ask me to stop taking the hospital drugs and use her herbs instead.

When I declined for the third time, she told me I should never complain to her again because I was faking the pain. My husband called me and was very angry. “My mom raised five children, and you married one. She’s giving you herbs, and you say you don’t like them? How many times have you been pregnant? If you know better than her, then why did you ask me to bring her?”

No matter what I said, it sounded like nonsense to my husband. I was seven months pregnant, and my mother-in-law and sister-in-law treated me like I didn’t understand what pain was. I could sob and moan in pain all night, and these two wouldn’t mind me. They would cook and not give me any, but when I cooked, they would finish it.

When my husband returned from his travels, I told him I didn’t want to live with his mom and sister anymore because they were not helping me in any way. I wasn’t angry. I was making a request. My husband responded angrily, “They are not going anywhere. It’s you who doesn’t want to be helped.”

A few minutes later, his mom and sister heard that I wanted them out. While his mom was accusing me of faking pregnancy pains, my sister-in-law said, “You want us to leave so you can use your fake pains to extort money from my brother. It won’t happen. Because he’s a man and doesn’t know about pregnancy, you want to use this small belly to fleece him. It won’t happen!”

My husband was there and said nothing. He even found it amusing. I would go to the hospital, and my husband would not give me any money because, according to him, there was nothing wrong with me.

One dawn, the pain became unbearable. My abdomen felt like it was falling apart, and I was dizzy. My husband had travelled. I knew if I told my in-laws, they wouldn’t mind me. So I called my husband. He was even angry that I had spoilt his sleep. He asked what was wrong with me. When I told him what I was going through, he asked, “And you were able to pick up the phone and call me?”

He called his mom, and this woman didn’t bother to come and see me. His sister only came to knock on my door and tell me to stop disturbing their sleep. There was a woman I went to church with. I called her to come and help me, and she did. I was admitted for three days. While at the hospital, I called my mom and asked her to drop everything she was doing and come over.

When my mom arrived, my husband called and said, “How dare you call your mom to come without discussing it with me?” For the first time in our marriage, I decided to fight back. “Have you forgotten who this place belongs to? I should discuss it with you before I bring my mom to my own house?”

He was really pained, but I wasn’t bothered. I was getting close to my delivery date and needed to care for myself. My mom had been with me for only three days when they started taking the fight to her, telling her she was the one who hadn’t raised me to bear pain.

My mom is a quiet person, but when she strikes, you can’t calm her down. She refused to be drawn into the fight until my husband arrived. Clearly, we were overcrowded. It was a two-bedroom house. I shared a room with my mom because my husband was away. When he arrived, I told my mom to share a room with my mother-in-law so my sister-in-law would sleep in the hall.

My husband was already angry that I’d told him the house was mine. I had rented it, and he moved in after we got married. He said, “Now you’re calling the shots because the house is yours? I’ve heard you. We’ll leave.”

My mom agreed to sleep in the hall until the night she took me to the hospital to deliver. My husband had travelled. When my mom called to tell him I was due to deliver, he asked her, “So what do you want me to do?”

He didn’t call after I delivered. I had to call to tell him I had delivered. He came the next day and was with me when I was discharged. His mom and sister never came to the hospital to see me. On our way home, I told my husband that the reason they had come to visit no longer applied, so they could go.

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He didn’t respond. Three days later, I asked what he was doing about it because I couldn’t keep watching my mother sleep in the hall. My husband stepped out and asked them to pack their things and leave with him.

The three of them left, and since then, I haven’t seen my husband again. We talk on the phone. He tells me I have sacked him from my house and he’s not coming back until he rents his own house. There’s nothing wrong with saying sorry, even when you’re right.

I apologized, thinking he would come home for us to rebuild. He hasn’t come. A few days ago, my mom asked me, “Are you sure you have a husband?”

I’ve been thinking about that question every day. It’s a quiet question, but it’s causing a tsunami inside me. Am I sure I have a husband? Hmmm.

—Abena Rose

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