My husband was desperate for a second stream of income, so he started doing everything that promised to bring in money. He tried extra classes for kids but stopped along the way. He tried online teaching, but that also didn’t pick up. He started affiliate marketing and later went into network marketing, but he eventually realized that it didn’t work for him.

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He came up with a plan that we should buy a small car he could use for Uber and make extra income to support the family and our building project. I found it very laudable because my husband was a hardworking man. I took a loan from the office and even cancelled an insurance policy I had so I could claim the money for this new dream.

Very soon, we were able to buy a secondhand Kia Morning at a very good price. It was relatively new and strong, so we didn’t expect it to break down anytime soon. My husband started working deep into the night, and each night when he returned, he would count the money with me so we knew how much he made during the day.

I was happy for him. For the first time after so many trials and errors, he had found something that would work. He would come home happy when business was good or a bit down when he didn’t make much. I was his cheerleader—whether things were good or bad, I motivated him.

About seven months later, after what I thought was a successful business, my husband came home one day and said the car had been left at the workshop because it had broken down and he couldn’t find the part to fix it. I was a bit surprised because the car had served us well. He said it was because he hadn’t serviced it properly and gave other excuses.

I didn’t think the car would spend a week at the workshop, but a month later, it still wasn’t back. “The mechanic can’t find the part. He has ordered it from China, and it usually takes forty days to arrive.” Forty days later, there was another excuse. I asked him to take me to the workshop to see the car, but he replied, “Are you a mechanic? How is seeing it going to help anything?”

So I stopped asking about it. Three months later, we still didn’t have the car back on the road. Then my husband said he was traveling to get the part himself from Ivory Coast because someone had told him it was cheaper there. I didn’t hear from him for days until he finally called. He said, “I’m on my way to Canada. I wanted to be sure the deal was legitimate before telling you. I sold the car. I will make better money once I’m in Canada.”

“Are you joking? Didn’t you say you were going to Ivory Coast? Why are you talking about Canada now?” He responded, “You won’t understand. You’ll hear from me tomorrow when I get to Canada.”

He didn’t sound like the man I married, the man who made every decision with me. This version of him felt strange and distant. I tried calling him the next day, but his phone didn’t go through. The same thing happened the following day. I became worried. I called his father and asked if he knew about these plans, but he was equally shocked. He said, “He’s a grown man. Let’s hope he’s doing the right thing.”

When I thought about the lies, my heart grew heavy. He sold a car that was making good money, resigned from his job, and abandoned his family just to travel to Canada?

All these questions filled my heart with anger and disappointment. The fact that I couldn’t reach him made me even more anxious. A week later, he called. I asked, “Are you in Canada?” He responded, “There are some paperwork issues, so the agent had to return to Ghana. He’ll resolve it there, and we’ll leave very soon.”

Three months later, my husband was still in Ivory Coast. Whenever we spoke, he sounded less hopeful but refused to admit he had been scammed. He kept saying the agent was coming and assured me that everyone around him believed it was a legitimate arrangement.

It has been almost a year since my husband went to Ivory Coast. Everyone else who left Ghana with him has returned home, but he refuses to come back because he is too ashamed to explain himself. I have asked him to return. I have assured him that all is forgiven and that we can start life over again, but he insists he won’t come back until he finds his footing there.

He doesn’t answer calls from his parents. The last time he spoke to them, I had to trick him into calling while they were around so they could talk to him. His father begged him and even promised to send him money to return home. He replied, “I will come, but not now.”

I understand that he is ashamed. And to be honest, if he had returned immediately after his plans fell through, he would have met a wife who would nag him, remind him of his failures and lies, and demand that he replace what we lost. Now I am calmer. I want nothing more than my husband, but nothing I say convinces him to return.

Life is hard for me and the two children. I am repaying the loan alone. Everything we saved is gone. I am struggling through life on my own and in debt. I want him here. I need his support. I believe that if he comes back, we can start afresh and rebuild little by little.

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But he doesn’t want to come back. I’m starting to believe he hasn’t given up on his Canada dream. He is in Ivory Coast, hoping for a miracle, because nothing else explains why he refuses to return. And there is another fear I have, that as time goes on, he might start a new family there and forget about us completely.

This is what keeps me awake at night. When people say I’ve grown lean, this is the reason. My body cannot rest or recover.

What do I need to do, and what kind of special prayers do I have to offer before this man comes back?

—Deloris 

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