My husband is behind bars. He has served over two years and still has many years left to serve. It started very small, just after our third child. He wasn’t upfront about it at first. He would ask as if it were a joke. While we were in ‘action’, he would “accidentally” hit the backdoor, then tell me it was a mistake. While I was crying in pain, he’d say, “It’s only because it’s dry. A little oil would make it easier.”

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I asked him, “What are you talking about? Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Again, he wasn’t specific. He just said, “What if I am? What would you say?”

One night, he went all out, asking for it plainly. He said, “So you can’t even tell what your husband wants? You’re not quick at all. Don’t you see I crave the backdoor?”

I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to know why the sudden interest. He said, “I learned that place feels like new. It’s like doing it for the first time and I want to experience it.”

I told him, “Then you’re out of luck, because I don’t want to experience being broken twice. The first pain happened ages ago, and I still remember it. I won’t do it again.”

He would beg for it at night. He’d stop midway through intimacy because I wouldn’t allow him. He fought me about it. He grew moody. He didn’t talk to me for days because I denied him backdoor entry. I stood my ground. My no was my no, even if he turned to stone.

One day, a mother came to my house holding the hand of a boy, barely fifteen years old. She asked if my husband was home, and I said he wasn’t. She blurted out, “Wherever he is, tell him I will spend every last cedi on me to make sure he rots in jail for what he did to my son.”

I should have gotten a hint from the way the boy was walking, but I didn’t. I asked, “What has my husband done?” The boy narrated how my husband forcefully caged him in an abandoned room and access his backdoor. I should have cried, but I couldn’t. I vomited instead, looking at how young and fragile the boy was.

When they left, I called my husband. He must have already known he was being sought. He said, “They’re lying. How could I do that to a boy?”

He didn’t come home for over a week until he was caught and arrested.

From there, it was up and down and sideways. His family wanted to bail him out with money, but the boy’s mother was insistent. I didn’t get involved. I wanted the truth to prevail. My husband couldn’t escape the grip of the law. I was there when the sentence was pronounced. I vomited again.

I went to the boy’s mother and hugged her. She cried in my arms. I apologized to her. “I have a son with him,” I said. “If anyone did that to my son, I wouldn’t take this route. That person would be six feet down before the police even knew about it.” She apologized to me, but I returned the apology. We are friends now while my husband rots in jail.

Is There A Perfect One Out There For Everyone?

So, to the woman whose husband is asking to go backdoor: I’m not saying your husband is like mine. But get to the bottom of the issue, and stop seeking a remedy for yourself. You are not the problem. Your husband is. Don’t protect his desires at the expense of your dignity and peace. Men like that don’t stop until they get what they want, either from you or from someone else.

—Dufie

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