Love makes you do strange things. I too was in love with my husband for a decade—ten long years that turned us into a family from a couple.
From lovers, we became parents and much more. I was the happiest and never stopped thanking god for all the beautiful moments that filled my life.When I believed nothing could go wrong, the universe conspired to burst my bubble.
We were colleagues when we first met since we both were working in the same IT company based in Lagos. I was in my late-twenties and my parents and family had broken all their ties with me because I married a man from a different religion.
We belonged to a very conservative catholic family and I had married a Muslim man against my parents’ wishes. They had warned me that if I chose to be with the man I loved, I would have to leave them forever.
I was deeply in love and left my parents and my country to be with the man I was in love with. However, love didn’t last long. We filed for a divorce after being married for just two years.
When love came knocking for the second time, I was apprehensive. It took him three long years to convince me that I could do it again. Once my resolve to stay away from love thawed, we soon tied the knot.
He knew about by disturbed past and my reluctance to return to Port Harcourt. Although he grew up in a village in Buguma , he seemed to have grown emotionally detached with the people back home.
His parents had died when he was in school and was brought up by his paternal uncle. During those ten years, he visited Buguma only twice—when his uncle passed away and to resolve some property dispute.
But when he returned to Lagos after his second visit, he didn’t come alone. He was accompanied by a twelve-old shy boy. He had asked me to be prepared for a news, which will test our relationship. But I was not prepared for this—the boy was his son from his first marriage. I didn’t know what to do. I could see my world falling apart for the second time.
I was in no state to listen to his explanation. I just left everything and headed to a friend’s place with my daughter. The same night I received a mail from him recounting his story.
He told me how his parents had promised their family friend to unite their children in marriage once they grew up. Since he was raised by his paternal uncle, he could not decline the proposal designed by his deceased parents, which was again brought up once he completed his engineering degree.
They had a child after being married for three years but his wife died during childbirth. Just a few months after the incident, he was sent on an onsite posting to Quebec in Canada by his employers (and later to Lagos).
His wife’s family didn’t take the news well that he had left his son back home with his uncle and accused him of negligence. They threatened him not to contact them ever and said that they will take care of the child.
The ugly scene in Port Harcourt forced him to keep his distance from his family. However, during his last visit his ageing father-in-law apologised and handed him the child.
I could almost relate to his problem but I could never forgive him for keeping me in the dark about such an important part of his life.
He gave me a hundred reasons for action—he was afraid I would never accept his proposal, he believed the ghost from his past was long dead, he was determined never to return to Buguma and so whatever had happened there made no difference in his life here.
I knew I could never trust him again. And love alone was not enough to sustain the relationship. After trying to work upon our marriage for a year, I finally gave up. We mutually agreed to head separate ways. I was a divorcee again but that was far better than being the ‘other woman’ in his life!
