My husband had a very good job when we got married. During that period, life was really good. I knew my role in the marriage, and I did just that. He also knew his role. When it came to financial contributions, he was in charge, and I supported. We also had a joint account we contributed a percentage of our salaries into. We could sleep at night and not worry about tomorrow because we knew tomorrow would take care of itself.

Two years after marriage, my husband lost his job. My husband is a very smart and intelligent man. I believed he was going to get another job very soon, so we were not scared. As time went on, I came to bear the bigger chunk of the financial needs of the house. I didn’t complain. I gave him money even for barbering so he would look good and not worry too much about his situation.

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As we got close to a year, my husband still didn’t have a job. He had some calls for roles, but all the roles didn’t pay enough for him to even break even at the end of the month, so he didn’t take them. He stayed home while I handled affairs and believed there was going to be a better day.

When he had been home for close to a year, he told me he would like to start something by himself. He presented the idea to me, and I felt it was a very good idea. The only downside was that we needed a lot of money to buy the logistics to be able to start the business. I was scared. The financial commitment scared the hell out of me, but he assured me he was going to drive us to safety.

The first money we touched was the money in our joint account. We had saved close to GHC 100,000. Anytime he needed money, I signed and he would sign so we could get the money from the bank. The business took off beautifully, and sales were also promising.

Then I got pregnant. Our happiness doubled because we had been looking forward to this pregnancy since we got married.

It got to a point when the business slowed down. He said Accra was saturated, so we should take the business to the other side of the country. I told him to try and stabilize Accra before we thought of other areas of the country. He was so sure about it that, according to him, the only way to make bigger returns was to try outside Accra.

I took a loan from my office and added it to what we had to take the business to other cities. It started doing very well at first, and then before a year passed, it started declining just like Accra did. I felt there was something wrong with the management of the business, but he assured me all was well and he was in charge.

The business existed for four years, and then it collapsed beyond repair. All we had left were machines we could sell and some rent remaining. I ask him, “Now what? We’ve exhausted our savings and plunged ourselves into debt. How do we recover?”

We couldn’t pay rent, so we moved into my father’s house. When we couldn’t feed ourselves, my dad came to our rescue. Even this brought a huge fight between us.

He asked why I would bring my dad into our issues. I asked, “So I should wait until we perish before we seek help?”

Then he got a very good job not too far from where we lived.

When the salary started coming in, I watched him to see if he would make an attempt to pay the debt we owed. He didn’t say anything. So I asked about it, and he started whining. “I just started. Won’t you give me time to settle first?” Several months later, there was still nothing coming from him apart from doing what he ought to do as a husband.

I brought the issue up again, and this time I was serious about it.

We both agreed he was going to commit 70% of his salary to servicing the loans and use the remaining 30% to take care of himself and the family. I was also contributing financially, so we should be fine.

When the month ended, that amount was sent to my account. Four months later, it stopped coming.

He told me, “I can’t continue to do that. I’m suffering. You know I have to take care of my parents and other siblings too. The 30% is too small to cover all that.”

In fact, I got angry.

“When you were suffering, what did your parents survive on, and who took care of your other siblings? We still haven’t recovered, and you’re thinking of them?”

We didn’t talk for days, but later we settled on him giving 50% of his salary. That amount never reached my account.

One day, during an argument, he moved his things out of the house. I later found out he had rented a single-bedroom apartment somewhere in town. He said it was because he was living in my father’s house that I was treating him that way.

I called his parents and narrated the whole story to them. His father told me I was being hard on a man who was still down on the floor.

“At least, allow him some years to recover,” he said.

“Years while I pay all the loans alone? Years when I have been the only one carrying the family all this time?”

When a man doesn’t have sense, it is hard to find that sense from the people who raised him.

I spoke to my dad, and he told me to remain calm and see how everything would end. I stopped fighting, so he also stopped fighting back.

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Just a few weeks ago, I heard he was getting married again. I laughed. “Getting married when we are still married?” In his mind and that of his family, I had sacked him from my home, so it meant the end of the marriage.

My dad told me, “Don’t make a sound. Allow him to go on with it, and we will sue the life out of him.”

I’ve seen the invitations flying around. Friends who know me have sent them to me, asking when we got divorced. The embarrassment is too much. I want to react, but my dad tells me to remain calm until the end and see who will have the last laugh.

So I’m here, waiting patiently to see what happens. He’ll crawl on all fours asking for forgiveness, and I will turn my eyes away as if I had never seen his face in my life before.

But all this comes with a lesson. When a man is down, don’t hasten to help him. First ask him why he’s down, and you’ll know helping such a man is a wasteful enterprise.

—Nadia

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