My mom doesn’t talk to my wife—actually, she hates her. She hates me too and calls me an embarrassment to my late father. I send her money every month. I do my bit as her eldest child, but nothing I do makes her want to accord me any respect. She respects my younger siblings, both women. She visits them and talks bitterly about me and my marriage, as if I’m the worst thing to ever happen.

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It started when she visited me after I had been married for almost two years. When I met my wife, she had her life figured out. She had a good job, had a car, and was living in a bigger rented apartment than mine. After marriage, we decided that I would move into her apartment. Her landlord was super cool and very respectful, another reason it was a good idea to move in with her so we wouldn’t lose a good apartment and a good landlord.

Just a few days after my mom visited, she called me aside and whispered, “Herh, what’s happening? Is it because you’re living in her house that she’s treating you like that? Who’s the man, you or her?”

Her question caught me off guard, so I asked what the problem was. My mom dramatically lifted both hands into the air and said, “God save me, my son doesn’t even know there’s a problem with the way his wife treats him.” She stamped her foot twice and said, “Wake up from your slumber. If you’re sleeping, wake up and act like a man. Don’t let a woman treat you like a houseboy in your own marriage.”

She saw me helping my wife in the kitchen. When the tap stopped flowing, I was the one who took a bucket and stepped out to fetch water and carry it home. When my wife did the laundry, I took the clothes off the line and folded them. In my house and marriage, we do these things together all the time. We are only two people here, why should one person do everything while the other watches?

My mom said, “She’s treating you this way because you’re living in her house. Leave and find your own place and bring her along. She’ll stop disrespecting you.” I laughed, maybe too hard, but I was surprised she was surprised about how I was helping my wife. I told her, “Mom, she’s not the one making me do it. It’s just common sense that I do it with her because we are the only people in this house.”

The next morning, I was scrubbing the toilet, not knowing my mom was behind me watching. When I turned and met her eyes, with a sad face she said, “Aw, I gave birth to you just to waste my womb. You’re my only son, your father’s favorite, how come? How did we get here? No wonder she’s not giving birth for you. She’s the man and you’re the woman. Tell me, when are you going to carry the pregnancy too?”

Honestly, I got angry. My wife could hear her talk, and that hurt me deeply. That day, I decided I would never allow her into my house again. I didn’t tell her that, but I knew I would do everything not to welcome her again. My wife told me, “She’s right in her own way. She belongs to a different era. She won’t understand you no matter what. The best thing is to stop doing these things when she’s around.”

My mom left, and without my knowing, she had also decided not to come to my place again. Instead, she spread the story to my younger sisters, who are also married. She told them my wife uses me like a doormat and that my wife has no respect for me. They know my wife and had experienced her, so they were surprised.

When they called and I explained everything, they both said, “Is that all? Ah, Mom paa.”

But still, she is my mother, so I send her money every month and call often to ask about her health. Her responses are always short and dismissive. We went home for a cousin’s wedding, and my mom didn’t shake my wife’s hand when my wife extended it. To avoid embarrassment, my wife hugged her instead. I could see the expressions on my aunts’ and other relatives’ faces, they were quietly judging my wife because my mom had already told them her version of the story.

One even boldly told me they were praying for me. After the event, before I left, my mom said, “You see this big house? Since your dad died, I’ve been living here all alone. If your marriage isn’t working, have the sense to come back home. Don’t let your wife use you like tissue paper.”

I was very frank that day, almost to the point of warning her. “Leave my marriage alone. I’m not a child. I know what’s right for me. What’s all this?”

She opened her mouth wide, hit it with her fingers, and screamed, “Hooooh, okotobonku! When are you going to realize she’s making a fool out of you?”

That was the last straw for me. I decided to cut her off and live my life. I can love her from afar. I still send her monthly allowance, but I don’t call her anymore so she doesn’t get the chance to disrespect me. When I stopped calling, she told my younger sister that she wished it was my sisters who had the money I have so she wouldn’t have to take anything from me.

It still didn’t make me stop sending her money. I haven’t spoken to her in almost a year. She usually calls on my birthday, but last month she didn’t. It was fine with me, but my wife is worried. She says I shouldn’t allow this to separate me from my mom. But the truth is, I can’t keep being around someone who constantly disrespects me.

I also think this distance is healthy for both of us. She doesn’t have to see things that upset her, and I don’t have to endure her disrespect. She has lived her life and enjoyed it, especially when my dad was alive. She only has good things to say about him. You should see how she glows when she talks about their life together.

I want the same for me and my wife. One day, when I’m gone, I want my wife to glow when she talks about the life we shared. I want to have that same feeling when I think about her.

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What my mom doesn’t understand is that people can have happy marriages in different ways. She wants it her way—she wants my wife to serve the way she served. She wants my wife to be like her to qualify as a virtuous wife. But times are not the same, and it hurts me that my mom doesn’t understand this simple truth.

—Danny 

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