I read Junior’s story titled “I have to pay my side chick 1000gh whenever my wife visits, and she visits a lot.” It reminded me of everything I put myself through recently. I am happy Junior learned his lessons. I too have learned from my mistakes. The only difference in our story has to do with the nature of our relationship with these women. In my case, I wasn’t dating Afua. We were just friends.

Our friendship existed before I even met the woman I am currently married to. I had proposed to her but she turned me down. However, we became very good friends. We were so close that when I got a new job outside Accra, she was the one who made sure I got everything I needed. When she lost her job, I repaid her kindness and supported her financially until she got back on her feet.

The closer we got, the more thankful I was that we didn’t date. That’s because I enjoyed our friendship more than I would have enjoyed being her boyfriend. The kind of bond we shared as friends was so thick that our friends even envied us.

When I met Nana, I was so excited that I told Afua all about her. She said she was happy for me but it didn’t sound genuine. She likes to play a lot so I took it as one of those things. Our friendship continued to flourish as time passed. Five years after I met Nana I told Afua, “It’s time. Nana and I are ready to settle down.” She couldn’t hide the sharp bite of jealousy in her response. Nonetheless, I didn’t take it wrongly. “She must be worried that when I get married, I won’t have time for her again,” I said to myself.

Two years after my marriage, Afua got a job outside Accra. Her town was close to where I worked. We both thought it was a good thing. I wish someone had told me that it was going to be the beginning of my problems. Anytime I was going home to visit my family, I would stop over at Afua’s place to spend a day or two before continuing on my way.

It was all innocent at first. But the more time we spent together the more open conversations we had. Some of these conversations were about sex. We would say naughty things to each other and I would be as protective of her as a boyfriend would. She didn’t have a man in her life so I filled that spot in her life. It was in the name of friendship.

As my visits to her place became more frequent, lines began to blur. Before we knew it, we were getting intimate. Truth be told, she was always against it but she always responded when I made a move. We could kiss and touch each other in all the intimate ways but we wouldn’t go all the way. We never did.

Out of the blue, Afua started getting extremely jealous whenever I had to talk to my wife in her presence. This continued until we had a very heated argument one night in her room. I was pissed off so I left her place at midnight to sleep in a guesthouse before traveling to Accra the next morning.

I got home only to receive threats from Afua. “Kojo, if you dare ignore me I will deal with you in a way you will never forget,” she said. Just like in Junior’s case, she threatened to send our chats to my wife. I knew I didn’t do her any wrong so I wasn’t moved.

Regardless, I wanted to be a gentleman so I called her to make amends. That phone call only ended up in another heated argument. It was so bad that we stopped talking.

Church service had just ended one Sunday when I saw Afua walking toward me. She was angry that I had not spoken to her in weeks. I didn’t want to create a scene so I ignored her and drove off. I hung out with the boys after church that day so I got home around 8 pm. I was met by my wife in a pool of tears with reddish and swollen eyes.

My heart skipped a beat. I thought someone had died. While I was asking her what the problem was, my pastor was calling me. I ignored his calls because I had an issue at hand.

The moment my wife opened her mouth, she started insulting me. That was when I realized I was the reason she was crying. What did I do? I took my phone and went to sit on the sofa in the living while, while my wife was in our bedroom sending me messages. What I didn’t know was that Afua had secretly taken photos of me in her room. She had also recorded some of our conversations. She sent everything including screenshots of our chats to my wife. Those were the messages she was sending to me from the bedroom.

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That night I couldn’t sleep. I endured all the insults from my wife till the next morning. I dozed off for about an hour, only to be awoken by phone calls. My father, my father-in-law, my family head, and my pastor were taking turns blasting my phone with calls. I knew then that there was fire on the mountain.

I called my dad first and he asked about the issue and I narrated my side of the story. I then called my father-in-law, followed by my pastor, and last, our family head. I narrated exactly what happened to all of them. Only my dad and my father-in-law believed me. The other two said there was too much evidence of my affair for me to deny it.

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In my anger, I texted Afua, “You are a failure,” and blocked her. She got upset and booked an Uber to my house with the intention of causing more trouble. By then my younger sisters had come to the house to console my wife. That was what saved me. When she knocked on my door, they were the ones who went to open it and saw her standing outside. One of them signaled me not to get out. I didn’t know their reasons but I was too down spirited to question them.

Later, I heard stories of how my sisters beat Afua until she ran away leaving her slippers and wig behind. It’s been two years since I saw or heard from Afua. To this day, I tip my sisters for saving their big brother from a Jezebel. I learned my lessons and I’m now a better man for it.

—Kojo

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