So my story is a little bit different from Cynthia’s story. We were only three years into marriage when he told me the other woman was pregnant. I was shattered. I packed to leave the marriage, but he stopped me. All weekend, he locked the door and kept the keys, telling me I was not going anywhere. I cried in his arms—the arms I should have avoided. I repeatedly asked why, and he had no answer.

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I chose the marriage in the end because we had a child.

It was hard. I said I’d forgiven him, but I didn’t see him the same way again. When we were intimate, it was ordinary. I wanted him done quickly so I could have my space. He tried to use words to heal me: “Oh, that was good. What did you do differently?”
“Your jollof is sumptuous. Thank you for making us stay this way.”
“You were created for me. I don’t know what life would be like without you.”

These words were meant to be sweet, but they bounced against my defense walls and deflected. It didn’t work. I had chosen to stay not because of him but because I wanted my son to have a father. I learned boys grow up to be men when there is a man around.

We didn’t have enough money for ourselves, but the other woman pushed to squeeze every penny from him. If he didn’t send the money, she would go to his office and cause chaos. These scenes embarrassed me as a wife, so I told him, “Take care of her and her child first. We would manage what is left.”

So I paid our child’s fees. I paid utility bills when he told me he didn’t have money. Sometimes, I bought fuel for his car so he could go to work. Maybe I was trying to prove to him that his life would have been a mess if he hadn’t met me just as he said.

One night, his phone kept ringing, and he refused to pick up. I saw the caller: the other woman, so I understood why he wouldn’t want to answer. But when it continued for so long, I told him, “Pick up the call before she comes to your office.”

He still didn’t, until I saw my phone ringing. It was her. “How did you get my number?” I asked her. She responded, “Ask your husband that question, but before that, give him the phone. Let me talk to him.”

Wow. I fought back. I proved to her that I wasn’t a pushover. She insulted, and I insulted back. My husband was behind me, telling me to cut the line, but we kept the drama going until she uttered the line that silenced me forever: “If you were any better woman, your husband wouldn’t be in my bed, let alone impregnating me for the second time.”

I was like, what!

I looked at my husband’s face. He said, “You see why I asked you to cut the line?” I asked him, “Is she pregnant again?” He answered, “She’s the one saying it, but I don’t know if it’s truly mine.”

“Do you still see her after everything we’ve been through?”

He didn’t answer that. He started apologizing. This time, I was the one who locked the door and pushed him out of the house. Within two years, they were going to have a second child. They might as well get married.

He came home with his mom and dad. I looked at his mother’s face and asked, “How many children does your husband have outside of your marriage?” They were quiet until they left. It was my elder brother who took their drink back to them and warned him not to get close to me again.

While we were going through the divorce, a call would come from his office saying, “She came to make a scene here today too.” The informant told me, “If I were your husband, I would have resigned out of shame.”

Our divorce wasn’t finalized when I traveled abroad with our son. Thanks to my dad, I have a good place here, a good job, and also a good man in my life. I had to leave first to be able to experience this side of life.

I will tell Cynthia, take it from a woman who has been there. You’re doing the right thing. Those telling you to forgive are your enemies. And those saying save the marriage because of your children can’t walk a mile in your shoes. They are typing on a phone that doesn’t prick them when they touch, so they can type a million words telling you to forgive.

You sound like you’re not dependent on him. You already have what it takes to take life by the horns. If he doesn’t come home with another child, he would come home with a sickness that might not infect you but rather render him incapacitated and you would be the one to take care of him.

I Was Fine Until I Was Alone In My Room

He even asked you to cheat so the two of you would be equal in sin. And see the time he chose to announce such a thing to you—your tenth anniversary, which should be joyous? Such a selfish man!

—Abrefi

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