The first time I met Ayew was in a bar in our neighbourhood. I’d entered the bar hoping to get a bottle of Fanta. Immediately after I entered, all the guys turned their necks and looked at me. It was unusual to find a woman at the bar at that ungodly hour. I was hungry. I needed the Fanta to add to my bread. The guy behind the counter said, “There’s no Fanta but if you want malt, you’ll get it.” I checked the money in my hand and it couldn’t buy malt. “I don’t have enough for malt. I’ll go and come back later.”
Ayew was closer to the counter so he heard the exchange between me and the guy behind the counter. Just when I was about leaving Ayew told the guy, “Give it to her. Add it to my tab.” I turned to look at him. He looked familiar, a guy who has his roots in the corners of the neighbourhood. He was in the midst of his gang so I couldn’t say a lot. “Thank you. I’ll give you the money when I see you around tomorrow.” He nodded his head and I left. Just when I stepped outside, I heard someone hissing at me; “You know you don’t have to pay me, right? I’m a friend of your sister’s friend. I don’t mind. Just give me your number.”
A month later, I was dating Ayew.
A week after I had accepted his proposal, we started having trouble. I didn’t like his friends. “They are too rowdy. If you follow them you won’t have a better life in future. Look at you. You have a degree in Business management. Don’t you think you have no business hanging around with people who can’t manage their lives properly?” He called it a “girl’s rants” because to him, I didn’t know how important it was for a guy to belong to a group.
When I needed him in the evening, I have to go through his friends. When I needed to go somewhere with him, he would tell me, “Let me ask my squad if there’s something scheduled on that day.” I got tired. The relationship was only six months old but I told him I couldn’t do it again. “You see, I don’t see the point in us dating if you think having a squad is enough. It’s over. Enjoy the rest of your life with your squad.”
Three days later, Eric came knocking at my door. Eric is the right-hand man of Ayew. He came bearing Ayew’s apology. “My brother is sorry. He’s suffering as you’re no longer in his life. Please forgive him and take him back.” I asked Eric, “Can I confide in you?” He nodded in affirmation. “I love Ayew with everything in me but my problem is you guys. He’s so in love with you that he doesn’t mind losing me as far as you guys are around. If I would come back into the relationship, you guys have to stay back. Give us space to explore what we are building. If not, we’ll always have this fight.”
I went back to him but the fight never stopped. If it wasn’t about his drinking ways, it was about the way he wasted his life around his squad. After every fight, Eric came around with a balm to soothe the pain and set things right. He would say, “He’s the only one who has a serious girlfriend in the squad. We’ll do our best and get serious girlfriends too so we’ll leave him alone.” Another day, Eric told me, “Come to think of it, if you were my girlfriend, I would not have time for the squad like Ayew does. Which man will have you and still get time for a squad?”
Slowly, Eric became a very good friend. Apart from the fact that he was always fixing our relationship, he was also there for me when Ayew got angry and stayed away from me. In the last fight we had, I told him, “Get a job with your degree and put your life in order before I will come back to you.”
We had dated for three years and within those three years, he had done over six different jobs. He would stay for a couple of months and tell me, “I hate the boss. He’s always talking down at me.” Sometimes he’ll stop working because he felt the organization didn’t deserve someone like him. “I’m too intelligent to be working there with them. I will find a new job.”
He took my ultimatum as a bluff and brush it aside. He told his friends, “She thinks she’s the only girl in this world? She should leave, I’ll get another one in a minute.” It’s Eric who brought me this information. He was hurt on my behalf. He told me, “You’ve tried. All you’ve done is try to make him better but he doesn’t appreciate the woman that you are. We’ll understand if you give up.” I told him, “I swear I’m done with him. Nothing in this world would make me go back to him.” When I said this, maybe I didn’t mean it but Eric told him what I’d said and things got worse. Usually, our fights lasted a few days or worse a week. But this was different. Days rolled into weeks, weeks rolled into a month, and he never came to apologize. To make matters worse, he started hanging around other ladies. When he saw me coming, he’ll begin to flirt with them. The hurt was too deep I started looking for a way to hurt him back.
There was no better way to get back at him than sleep with his best friend. It wasn’t too hard to get Eric to agree to do it with me. It looked like he wanted me all along so when the opportunity came, he jumped at it without thinking about loyalty to friendship. We agreed to make it a secret until we are sure of what we were doing. Less than a week later, Ayew had a new job in Accra so he left town. He told Eric to tell me that he was leaving and that he wishes me well in my next relationship. I sobbed that day. I told myself, “If he left me a parting message then he still loves me. I broke up with Eric. “I can’t do it again. I was silly thinking you’ll make me happy. It’s not working. Let’s leave it here before I break down totally.”
He agreed but not totally. He told me, “I’ll be here in case you change your mind.”
Four months later, I woke up to a long message from Ayew. At the tail end of the message, he said, “I’m working in a beautiful office. Finally, I’m in a place I deserve to be so I’m not leaving anytime soon. I’m the man you’ve always wanted me to be. Those friends are not here dictating my path. I’m my own man. Since this is all you’ve ever wanted, can we come back together?”
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I didn’t read the message to the end. I closed the messaging app and started dialling his number. I’d deleted his number from my phone but I couldn’t erase it from my memory. “Ayew! When can I see you? Are you coming anytime soon?” “Not anytime soon but the weekend is coming, if you don’t have urgent plans, I’m begging you to come over.” It was supposed to be for the weekend but I was there all week. I had to be closer to him to know how much I’d missed him. He looked brand new. A lot had changed. He looked more responsible and had a space he could call his own, without the interference of those yahoos he called friends.
We were back together but something wasn’t right, my conscience. I felt like I’d betrayed him. What I used as a payback all of a sudden became my guilt. We were getting serious. Everything pointed to the fact that we were going to get married. I started getting scared. I felt I should tell him what I did with Eric before he finds out himself or before Eric tells him. In the end, I didn’t do any of those. Two years later, we got married and we’ve been married for a year and a half now.
To date, I’m unable to shake the guilt off. He talks about Eric often. Whenever we go back home, it’s Eric he rolls with. He comes around and pretends everything is alright while I’m the one dying inside. When we are having a conversation and he brings Eric’s name up, my heart skips several beats. I’ve even had a dream about it. In the dream, Eric told him the truth and he got angry. It was raining when he asked me to pack my things and leave his house. Eric was there laughing at me. When I woke up I prayed; “God, it’s my past that’s haunting me. Should I say the truth? You can assure me this truth can set me free?” Sometimes I believe it will but what will happen afterwards is what scares me. Anytime Eric is around and they’re whispering to themselves I get scared.
What should I do? Tell him and risk whatever comes my way? Or this is one of the secrets we go to the grave with?
–Frances
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Die with it. Never admit it. Tell urself it never happened and organize your story incase Eric try to play smart. The day it is mentioned cry, cry very well but don’t say a word. At night tell your husband that story u organized, the story of how Eric almost raped u.
That truth u think u want to say will end your life.
Madam, as for this, take it to your grave.
Men and their ego will not make him forgive you.