John Kwame Addo, that’s my husband’s name. Our marriage is only two years old but it’s already falling apart. The last time I told him I would file for a divorce if he does not change his ways, he called my bluff. He said, “You are an adult. Leave the marriage if that’s what you want.”

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How did we even get here? Is this what happens if you marry someone you only dated for three months? He sold me a dream of a beautiful life as his wife. That’s why I rushed to marry him. I expected us to have a sweet relationship but the moment we got married my expectations were crushed.

I used to call him “Sweetheart,” or “My better half” while he called me by my first name, “Rita.” Before long, he told me not to call him by any pet names. “You know my official name. Call my by any of them.” He seemed very keen on it so I started calling him, “Mr. Addo,” “Mr. John,” or “Kwame.” He was fine with it so I maintained that energy.

The drama began when I went to his workplace with a colleague to visit a staff member who had been admitted there. He is a healthcare professional. When I got to the hospital and saw my husband, I smiled at him and said, “Kwame.” 

He also looked at me and smiled back. He seemed busy, so I didn’t start a conversation. There were two women near him. One of them was on her phone but, she looked at me and said, “You don’t respect. You call your husband ‘Kwame’. Just like that in public? Is that how you are? I can’t imagine your attitude toward him in private.” 

Everyone around turned to look at me, including some of the health workers. I was so embarrassed. I expected my husband to say something in my defense but he didn’t. The woman is someone I recognized from our wedding. I didn’t want to give her the chance to humiliate me again, so I ignored her. 

On our way back to school, I was upset. My friend tried to cheer me up and said, “Don’t mind her. It’s probably menopause making her act that way.”

When I got home, I expected my husband to at least address the issue, but he didn’t. I was in emotional pain. I couldn’t even eat that evening. When I brought it up, he dismissed it and said, “Forget about that incident. It’s not necessary.”

That hurt me. I stayed quiet but decided to punish him in my own way for three days. At night, he wanted intimacy. I told him, “Forget about it. It’s not necessary.” He tried again at dawn, and I still refused.

Earlier, we had agreed to buy a new TV and split the cost. That morning, he asked for my share, but I didn’t give it to him. I was still waiting for him to acknowledge what I went through at his workplace, but he still didn’t.

He came back home that evening with a new TV, but I didn’t cook anything for him that afternoon, as part of his punishment. That night too, when he asked for intimacy, I said it wasn’t necessary.

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The next night, he didn’t eat the food I prepared, and didn’t sleep on the same bed with me. From then on, he started coming home late. Sometimes he’d eat; sometimes he wouldn’t. But I ignored him.

This went on for about seven weeks. After that, he stopped coming home entirely. Later, I found out he rented a room near his workplace.

At first, I didn’t want to involve a third party. Because he told me before we got married that we didn’t need outsiders to resolve our problems. However, when things went beyond control, I reached out to his mother (his father has passed). She promised to try her best to talk to him. However, she also said, “You two are adults, so you should be able to work things out yourselves.”

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After the call, I didn’t hear from her again. When I told my mother about our current situation, she was furious. She supports me if I decide to divorce him. But when I called my father, he told me to apologize to my husband. Apologize? I, the victim should apologize?

Now that my husband is also saying I should go ahead and file for divorce if that’s what I want, I don’t know what to do. My parents are already divorced. I fear going down the same path. As for that woman, God will judge her. I believe she’s the root of all this.

—Gail

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