I have been married for five years. The first year ended without a child. This made me worried especially knowing that I was trying to get pregnant. I expressed my concerns to my husband and we went to the hospital. The doctors run some tests and diagnosed my husband with a low sperm count. To be specific, the doctor said there were no sperms in my husband’s semen. The news made me sad but I didn’t lose hope. We moved from one hospital to another in search of a cure but nothing worked.

As time went on, I became the friend everyone had to tiptoe around when the subject of pregnancy came up. This was because anytime I heard that a friend had a baby, my pain would multiply. Three years into the marriage and I still couldn’t boast of pregnancy. The gleam of hope in my eyes began to fade. The desire for children I nursed in my heart became a tomb of disappointment. Joy left me. And I became a shadow of myself. Things became worse when I was posted to teach at a village very far from where my husband works. Every month, one person had to visit the other. The up and down was really frustrating but we had to make the marriage work so we made the necessary sacrifice.

There were four female teachers on the staff. All of us were married, but I was the only one who didn’t have a child. This became known to the parents after a while. And some of these parents started making hurtful comments about my childlessness. They don’t say it to my face. They say it to the hearing of their kids, and the kids always report the insults to me. One day, an incident happened in the school. A pupil in one of the classes stole from another pupil. So the class madam sent for the parent of the thief. The first thing the mother of the child said was, “They haven’t given birth before so they don’t know how it feels like to give birth.” That one too, the boy who was sent to call the woman brought us the feedback. I wasn’t the madam who sent for this parent yet she attacked me.

That day, I cried like a baby in front of my learners. The assistant headmistress had to take me to her office to console me. Being childless after marriage is something I don’t even wish for my enemy. The indirect insults, depression, and pressure is something else. It got to a time I didn’t care when a learner misbehaved in class. I turned a blind eye to their naughtiness and just went on teaching and assessing them as the syllabus required. I did all this just so their parents wouldn’t attack me.

One day I was texting my husband when he said; “A friend of mine has recommended a gynaecologist that helped him and his wife conceive. Let’s give him a try.” I was excited and filled with a renewed hope that something positive might come out of it. We booked an appointment and went to see the doctor. He ran a series of tests on different occasions. When the results came out, he also told us that my husband has a low sperm count. The only good news was that there was a zero point something count, compared to when it used to be nothing at all. This particular doctor recommended that we try IVF. He also gave my husband some immune boosters to take for three months and return for a review.

When we left the hospital my husband got angry with me, and the anger remained for two days. You would think I was the one who told the doctor to say what he said. He asked me, “What is next? We are getting a divorce, aren’t we?” I was surprised to hear him say that. I mean, things were hard but I didn’t know we had gotten to the point of divorce. I was worried but I assured him that everything was going to be fine. But my assurances stopped taking effect when he found out the cost of IVF. He declared, “I will rather donate that money to an orphanage in Nigeria than use it for IVF.” I thought he was joking but time revealed that he wasn’t. Every little argument ended with him talking about a divorce. I ignored him because I believed he was just speaking because of the pressure he was facing as a man. On the seventh month after the hospital visit, I reminded him that he didn’t return to the hospital for the review. He got angry that I brought it up so I decided not to ask him about it again.

Earlier this year, I went to my grandfather’s funeral in my home town and when I returned, I called him but he didn’t pick up. Later that evening, I called again and he answered the phone grudgingly. He sounded like he would rather do anything than speak to me so I hung up. This attitude continued until I went home for vacation. Everything he did during my stay communicated that my presence tired him. Every question I asked him went unanswered. He would leave the house without telling me his whereabouts. So I got suspicious and started going through his phone. That was when I realized he was talking to a particular number more than thrice a day. I called the number and it was a lady’s voice. When I confronted him, he looked at me, smiled, and left the room to go and sit under the summer hut.

I was living with this man but I didn’t exist in his world. I informed our pastor about our problems and he invited us over for counselling. After advising us, he also suggested we try IVF but my husband said he wouldn’t do it. I did my best to solve whatever was happening but the more I tried the angrier he got. He said I was disgracing him. I didn’t know what else to do so when school reopened I left for my station.

I called him one evening and it was a call waiting for more than an hour. When he called me back he was angry that I interrupted his call. I asked him, “Were you talking to the lady you are cheating on me with?” “You know I was talking to her so why didn’t you wait for me to finish?” He retorted. I didn’t want us to argue so I simply said, “I’m sorry. I won’t call you again so I don’t interrupt your calls.” Can you imagine that since that time in May till now, I haven’t called this man and he is not bothered? He only sends me messages on WhatsApp once in a while to ask if I’m fine.

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In August, he told me not to come home for vacation. His reason is that he is travelling. So I spent the holidays with my elder siblings in Accra. Later, I found out that my husband never travelled. He just didn’t want me around. I was hurt but not as hurt as I was when a man called me recently and asked if I was pregnant. I told the man, “I don’t know who you are but I’m not pregnant.” The unknown man said, “I am asking because my wife took your husband to a herbalist two months ago. And now your husband has called my wife saying that the medicine worked. He said you are pregnant so I took your number to confirm the news.” I told the man that whoever my husband got pregnant is not me and thanked him for his information.

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Both of our families are aware of the problems we are facing in our marriage.  And I plan to serve my husband the divorce papers in December, but the thought of starting all over again scares the hell out of me. Besides, I don’t even know how to go about this divorce thing. But for the grace of God, everything I went through would have killed me. Some of the stories I read on this platform have also given me hope that things get better. Fred’s story about being childless for years before God blessed them with a child, inspired me to share mine. I know my story doesn’t come with a happy ending but at least I may get the help I need.

—Pokuwaa

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