My husband doesn’t talk to my dad. He says very few good things about my mom. As for my brothers, he doesn’t want to hear that they exist. It all started when we were about to get married.

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My husband was my boyfriend for over five years. We met in school and dated during his final year on campus. He was of great help to me, looking at everything he did for me. He talked about not letting me go until we were married. I thought they were childhood dreams, but through his actions and how he came swiftly for me, I knew he meant it.

One day, I took him home and introduced him to my parents as my husband. I was at level three hundred, but I was able to do that because I had that relationship with my parents where we talked about everything and shared crazy secrets. My dad was like, “I sent you to school and you came back with a human degree. Abrantie, welcome home.”

He liked my dad right from that day. He was doing his service, but he was sending me money monthly and helping me whenever I needed it. When he started working and earning good money, he let it show in the way he treated me and the things he got for me.

On Christmas Day, he brought me the hampers he received from his company and said, “Take them home and give them to your parents.” There were a lot of things—bags of rice, a box of tinned tomatoes, a box of oil—you name it. Everything came in boxes, as if he was going to open a grocery shop. He didn’t pick even one item from it. I asked, “How about your own parents?” He answered, “I will sort them out, don’t worry.”

When I got home and gave the items to my parents, they were over the moon. My dad called him, “Eiii, my in-law, all these for us? May God bless you and the work you do that made you able to afford these.” My mom also sang his praises. So for the years ahead, whenever he received hampers, I was the one who took them home.

Right after school, he wanted to marry me. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to work first, gather something on my own before I would listen to marriage proposals, but he was forceful about it. He said he couldn’t wait any longer and that we had to do it before the next year.

I was also scared I might lose him if I didn’t agree to the proposal, so I said yes, but I would only marry him after my national service. While doing my service, I took him home often to greet my parents. They were always happy to receive him and even urged him to sleep in the house when he had already booked a hotel for the night.

After my national service, he brought his family home to do the knocking rite and take the dowry list. That was when the issue started. The list and everything on it didn’t make sense. We didn’t even believe it was my dad who made it. I said, “No wonder he didn’t want me to see it before sending it to you.”

I told him to use the good relationship he had with my dad to negotiate the list down, so he called the next day, exuding confidence, thinking it was going to be easy to convince my dad. My dad said, “Oh, the things I listed are moderate, considering the fact that my daughter is a graduate.”

My husband, then my boyfriend, said, “Oh, Dad, I know, but I’m pleading with you so I can have the wedding as soon as possible. After everything, I will come and say a special thank you with a package.”

My dad said no. He wasn’t going to remove a thing from the list and even suggested that if my husband wasn’t ready, he should take time off, prepare, and come again. My husband was very disappointed, but he didn’t give up. He called a week later to ask again, and my dad got disrespectful. He said, “How long have you been sleeping with my daughter? If I ask you to pay for every night you’ve had her in your bed, would you be able to pay?”

I was with him. I took the phone from him before he could say anything bad. When I went home, I told my dad he was being disrespectful. I reminded him of what my husband had done for me while I was in school and the things he had brought home every Christmas. My dad shoved me aside as if I didn’t matter. He said, “You people think everything is about love. There’s love, and there’s tradition. Love can’t take away what tradition has established.”

My husband was very angry about the whole thing, but it was me—the apple of his eye—so there was little he could do about it, and he said it: “This is all because it is you. I’ll try my best.”

During the traditional marriage, my brothers also brought their issues. They argued that the money in the envelope for them wasn’t enough, so my husband should add more. My husband’s brothers, who had had enough, also got up, and it turned into an exchange after the traditional wedding. So immediately the wedding was over, my husband declared that he was done with my family.

My dad was sick, and I was called to come home. My husband asked me, “Go home? Are you a doctor? Are you the only child he has?”

He didn’t stop me from going, but he didn’t stop berating me for leaving him because of my dad. It was funny and sad at the same time. He would say things and later laugh about them. The husband I knew would have gone home with me, not empty-handed but with gifts. He would tell me, “I don’t owe your dad anything, not even kindness. He has collected everything when we were getting married.”

When my last brother was going to school, my dad called, asking me to help. When I said I couldn’t do much, he said, “Talk to your husband.” I asked him, “When he was talking to you, did you listen to him? You want him to listen to you now?”

He went quiet and later said, “How long is he going to hold on to this? Doesn’t he have the spirit of letting things go?”

It bothers me that my husband doesn’t talk to my family. I visit his home often. When there’s an occasion there, I go with him, and his people are very nice. But when it’s my turn, I go alone. I’m trying to find a way to let them resolve this issue. My dad is ready, but my husband doesn’t want to hear his name. He told me, “I’m happy you’re not bearing his name now. It means I’ll never hear it again.”

I know it’s a crazy ask, but do you think there will be a day I can reconcile my husband and my family? I’m currently pregnant. He barred me from telling my parents. My parents got to know through a photo I posted recently. I’m seven months pregnant, and they didn’t know until recently. If I can’t tell them about the pregnancy, do you think I can invite them to the naming ceremony of the baby?

Unless God speaks.

—Mildred 

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