I am a man in my early forties, and my wife, Gifty, is in her late thirties. We have known each other for nearly twenty years, and have been married for ten of those. Before we married, we were in a committed relationship for almost a full decade.

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We met just after senior secondary school, while we were both waiting to enter university. Gifty was in a two-year relationship at the time. I met her through her cousin, who was my friend, and from that very first day, it was love at first sight. Her eyes, her smile, her whole demeanour. We hit it off instantly. I would spend long hours with her in her mother’s shop, just enjoying her company, talking, and laughing with her.

Even though I had these strong feelings for her, I found the grit and audacity to refrain from making any advances. Because I had respect for her existing relationship at the time, I didn’t want to be the one to cause a break-up. I decided to stay on the sidelines, ready to step in only when things ended. Then one day, God fought my battle for me. One afternoon, as we sat in the shop, she looked at me and asked, “Kweku, are you in love with me?” That moment changed everything. Of course, I manned up and admitted that I really did like her. She confessed she felt the same. I am sure the angels in heaven were happy for me, because I could not keep calm. A few days later, she ended her previous relationship in my presence, and we officially began dating.

Throughout our ten years of courtship, Gifty was lovely, exceptional, respectful, humble, and very hard-working. Oh, and she is so smart. She is also a strikingly beautiful woman. One particular moment sealed my belief in her love for me. Her parents brought a marriage proposal from a highly influential politician who wanted to marry her.

At that time, I was a man with nothing to my name. I had just finished my national service and was unemployed, with no clear prospects for the future. The pressure from her parents and her entire family was immense. It felt like a wave threatening to wash me away.

I was afraid she would give in. Why would she choose a future with me, when she could have one with him?

But she stood tall. She stood beside me. She told them all, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted only me.

In that moment, I knew. Whatever challenges life would throw at us, she was the woman I would marry. I made her my wife, and our ceremony was the most beautiful day of my life.

For the past two decades, Gifty has been a supportive partner and a consistent source of strength.

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A few months before our tenth anniversary, I discovered something that shook me to my core. One night, I was having a hard time sleeping, so I picked up her phone—something neither of us found unusual, as we have always had open access to each other’s devices. She has my password, I have hers; it was never strange. After browsing her photos, I opened the deleted folder. What I saw there devastated me and broke my core. There were nude videos she had recorded for another man, taken inside our matrimonial home.

I immediately checked her chats with him and found overwhelming evidence of a long-term, intimate online relationship. For at least four years, she had been exchanging sexually explicit messages and sending explicit photos and videos right here in my house, under my nose. The way she expressed affection and described intimate encounters with him made me tremble. I could not believe this was the woman I believed I knew so well.

I confronted her, and she wholeheartedly admitted to sending her nude pictures and engaging in sexually explicit conversations. She insisted there had been no physical contact. I mean, was it for fun? A game? What? She did not blame the devil; she simply apologised and said she regrets it.

I told her plainly that I intended to file for divorce, because I believe it is the trust we had that she has broken. Since then, I have seen a change in her. She is clearly in distress. Every day it shows that she has been crying. She has refused to go to work or even to eat. It looks like she is trying to hurt herself. In the last week, she has been hospitalised more than twice, most recently for ten days. I look at her, and I do not recognise the woman before me. She looks like a ghost of herself.

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Now, I am having mixed feelings. I am sad, I am hurt, angry, disappointed, and betrayed. And I am pitied by her current condition. I am very much confused and I do not know how to go forward with the divorce.

Is she genuinely sorry? Or is it just guilt eating her up?
If I had not discovered the messages, would the behavior have ever stopped? Am I rushing into a decision?
Given her many admirable qualities and our long history, am I being too unforgiving?

Most importantly, how do I go about this without causing lasting harm to our children, aged nine and seven? They need to be in a stable home.

Am I doing the right thing or not?

—Danny

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