I know there are many men out there who would say that the experience I’m about to share is a normal occurrence, especially in this part of the world. But what I have gone through in the hands of women in my 50 years of existence is enough to make me run when I hear the word, ‘marriage.’
I met my first wife in Accra, Ghana during a six-month European Union-sponsored training programme. She was the only other Nigerian in a class of eight and we naturally became very close. One thing led to the other and we got married in Nigeria one year after. At first, she was, to me, every man’s dream until she gave birth to our first and only child.
Her mother, who had never visited, came to help after she had the baby. This is almost a norm in the South-Western part of Nigeria, so it didn’t even matter to me how long she would stay because my own mother was too old to come from Akure, in Ondo State, to Lagos, all in the name of easing my wife’s post-natal stress. My siblings would not even allow her.
Not long after my mother-in-law stepped into our house, the normal order was disrupted. My wife began to fault every step I took and refused to cook meals because “my meal allowance could only buy biscuits”. This was the same allowance she was getting before her mother came over. She became very rude and treated me badly. She would receive strange calls late into the night while her mother took care of the baby.
She later moved into the second room with her mother and the baby after three months, saying that my snoring kept her awake all the time. I found this strange because we had been sleeping together on the same bed for close to two years and she never complained.
There was nobody to talk to because her mother even hardly answered my greetings. I felt very miserable in my own house and regained my sanity only at work. This went on until our son clocked one. Five days after his birthday ceremony, precisely on a Thursday, I came back from work to meet an empty house. My wife, son and mother-in-law were nowhere to be found. Though she left a note that I should not look for her, I was somehow relieved that I had seen the end of a horror movie. The only painful part was that she took my son away. As I write, I can’t place my finger on what actually went wrong.
I stayed alone for close to five years and only considered getting close to another woman when my pastor, close friends and family members insisted. I’m a naturally shy person, not notorious with women, so the talk about keeping girlfriends did not even arise.
Then I met this charming lady in August 2009. She was all I needed to forget my life with my ex-wife. Very pretty and hard working. Unlike my ex-wife, who depended on me for almost all her needs, the new lady invested in the relationship more than I did. It was a sharp turn from the past, which gave me good reason to make a quick decision about settling down again.
Unlike my first wife, who my siblings and close associates easily accepted, my second wife was a hard sell even with her striking personality. I tried to make everyone see the angel in her, but they just wouldn’t accept her. It was an irony because these were the same people who wanted me to get married again by all means.
In spite of the resistance, I went ahead with the wedding, court this time, because I only had the traditional wedding with my ex-wife. I thought the Lord blessed our union because immediately after the wedding, I was transferred to Port Harcourt, Rivers State, away from the prying eyes of many who didn’t want the marriage to be. My wife also arranged her transfer with the bank she worked with to Port Harcourt so that we could be together. It was all rosy in the beginning. But this ‘honeymoon’ did not last for more than 30 months.
We had two children, a girl and then a boy, in less than two years. She had always wanted to rush child bearing to be able to keep fit and I didn’t object. The Lord also let her have her way. Her mother moved from Ibadan to Port Harcourt to live with us because of the stress of caring for two children that looked like twins. The first was only three months when my wife conceived again.
I was afraid initially when it dawned on me that my new mother-in-law would have to stay with us again. This was because I did not want a repeat of the horror movie that started with the influence of my ex mother-in-law. But it did not take two days for my new mother-in-law to win my heart.
She was the exact opposite of the former one. She prepared my meals and her daughter’s regularly and treated me like a king even when she knew that her daughter was the major breadwinner. My wife also became more loving with her mother’s presence that I began to confide in friends that I was happy I took the decision to marry her after all.
Soon after my second child, the boy, clocked one, my wife got a better deal with another bank. Things became much better. Within six months, we had moved to our own house, a mansion in Port Harcourt, courtesy of my wife. I had come to trust her so much that I did not stop to question how that became possible just within six months.
Then one night, my mother-in-law came to us in the room to ask if her younger brother could come to spend two days with us in Port Harcourt during his working visit to the town. I didn’t object because I had no cause to. That was the beginning of the Season 2 of this horror movie called marriage…
To be continued
