I was jailed for four years due to my involvement in office financial malpractices. I was naive. I followed bad advice and paid for it big time. I was married with two kids when the issue started. I didn’t inform my wife. I was scared of how she was going to perceive me. We were home one morning when the police knocked on our door.

The police mentioned my offence. They said they needed me at the police station. I begged them not to handcuff me because of my kids and my wife. My wife was already crying. I came back home on bail two days later.

My wife asked about the story. I told her everything. How the money disappeared and how those guys I worked with also disappeared with the money. For close to six months, I was going to court. It was stressful, but what was more stressful was the fact that each time after court, I knew I was drawing closer to jail.

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I told my wife what to do in my absence. I gave up my bank accounts and what was left in them for her so she could take care of the kids. We were building a house together. I told her not to bother about it, but when I returned, I would work hard and complete it. I had a taxi and was also doing farming with a friend. I showed her all of that and told her what to do in my absence.

My parents didn’t know what was going on until I was sentenced. On that day in court, in front of my mother, my wife, and two of my siblings, I was sentenced to four years in prison.

I nearly collapsed. When I was whisked away, I looked back at my wife and saw her crying. My mom’s head was down, so I didn’t see her face. I felt I’d disappointed them, but then I told myself I would come back to prove my worth again.

My wife visited the prison every weekend for the first month. Then it was once a month, then once every two months, and then it became whenever she felt like it. Before I had spent a year in prison, she stopped visiting. When I got access to a phone, she was the one I called. I asked about the kids, the farm, the taxi, and life in general. She painted a gloomier picture than I could ever paint in prison.

For three years, I didn’t hear from her again, but something told me she was doing her part to keep life going so that when I was released, I would have a home to return to.

One day, I had a dream. I saw my wife getting married to another man right in front of me, and she was smiling broadly. My kids were dressed in white and held bouquets for them. When I woke up, I was so happy that my wife and kids had visited me in my dreams but when the dream came again a few weeks later, I started to think the universe was talking to me.

I tried looking for a phone to call home. When I finally did, my wife’s phone was off.

The day I was released, I broke down. No one came to meet me to take me home. I didn’t even know if I could find my way back home.

I stepped out and made a three-hour journey back home. I went to knock on the door late in the afternoon, and a man came out. My heart started beating faster.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house? Where is my wife?”

He looked at me like I was a madman. “Sorry, what did you say? What are you talking about?”

A tenant who lived on the first floor was coming down when she saw me. She knew my story. I told her I was coming home, and she said my wife had moved long ago.

“I even heard she’d travelled,” she told me.

I went back to the lorry station and made a journey of over four hours back to my parents’ house. It was late at night. They broke down when they saw me. They told me everything that had happened to my wife and kids that night.

While I was in prison, my wife sent drinks back to my family and asked for a divorce. Her family followed, but my parents didn’t agree. They said I wasn’t there to instruct them to take the drink or not, so they refused. That was the last time they heard from her.

My dad said, “I even heard she’s married again. She got married before travelling abroad.”

The dream I had in prison came to mind. I cried a little. My dad told me there was more to life, so I should be a man.

I called my in-laws the next day. When my father-in-law heard my voice, he asked what I wanted from him. Very cold and straightforward. I asked about my wife and kids. He asked, “Did you leave them with me when you were going to prison?” And then he cut the call.

I spent a week with my parents and set off to visit what I had before going to prison.

My wife sold the car, sold the house we were building, and told the guy I was farming with that she needed money to pay good lawyers to get me out of prison, so she was selling my shares in the farm. I had nothing and was coming to start life from zero.

I contacted my wife’s elder sister and she told me everything and even gave me my wife’s contact. It took me days before I was able to call her.

“Dorinda,” I mentioned her name, thinking she would know who was talking.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

I paused and then mentioned my name.

“Joe? From where?”

“Joe, your husband.”

“How did you get my number? Who gave you my number? What do you want? Didn’t your parents tell you I served them divorce papers?”

She wouldn’t let me talk and cut the line. I sent her a very long WhatsApp message, asking her to give me access to my kids. She blocked me. Her elder sister sent me their photos. She told me I should move on and rather focus on divorcing her officially.

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

That’s what I’m going to do, but I need my life back before I think about all that. She’s married, but we are still not divorced. That’s illegal. She sold what doesn’t belong to her. That’s stealing. She also wouldn’t give me access to my kids. That’s sinful. I can’t tackle all that now when I’m already down.

I will work and get back on my feet again. I need firm ground to stand on to fight my battles. If it’s the marriage she doesn’t want, then why sell my properties and run away with my kids? The court will answer that someday, and I hope I get a favourable verdict.

—Joe

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