I was only 15 when my cousin
Julie introduced me to an older man; he was 43 at the time. I know the age
difference raises a lot of eyebrows. All I can put down in writing is that I
never knew lack since I met Dede.
Dede sent my siblings and I to
school and there was a difference in the standard of living in my family. He
opened my eyes to a whole new world ahead of me, a world that I never even
dreamt of having. I mean, as far as I was concerned, my purpose in life was
just to get by and if I did just that, then I would be complete.
6 years after I met Dede, he
passed -and he passed right in front of me. He held his chest and slumped and
that was it; Dede was gone! I wasn't married to Dede, I was only a young girl
he fancied and took care of. I was used to this new life and so I wasn't going
to settle for less than I deserved if you know what I mean.
I met Patrick; he was in Dede's
circle of friends at the bar he occasionally visited. We got married a few
years later and I had a set of twins. When I was mid-way through my pregnancy,
Patrick decided to send me to America, got me a nice house in one of Boston's
suburbs and had my maid travel along with me. When I had the twins, he insisted
I stayed back till they were 1. However, a year became 2 and then that doubled
too.
The twins are now on the verge of
proceeding grade 1 and I have only seen Patrick 6 times in 6 years. He visits
for 2 months in the summer and that's it till the following year. My maid has
now become my best friend and our conversations often include concerns such as
'oga cheating on me and what not'.
I insisted on visiting home with
the kids last Christmas. On my arrival, my home felt different. I could sense
the presence of a female in the house but I desisted from making any such
accusations. When I got back to the States, I called my husband ...and without
any prior notice, informed him of my desires to move back so we all could once
again be one family sharing the same roof! Enough of our distance marriage
which had started to feel strained. A feeling of being married to my dad whom I
couldn't object to and whom I feared so much.
Much to my surprise, I was
shocked to know that he said yes willingly. I had prepared for a mini argument
or at least, some cajoling. But it was smooth sailing. He had agreed so
painlessly.
I'm going back to a man I don't
really know. The math says it all... -7 years of marriage with only a total of
14months lived together as a couple/family. I feel like I'm getting married
again, but I want to know the man I have called my husband for the last 7
years.
I'm at the airport now, and I
just called my husband phone. Our neighbour Victoria picks up his phone. I
can't stop asking myself what she's doing with my husband's phone at 5am Nigerian
time and why he's not available to pick up my call.
...Or could he have found me out?
I wonder if he has figured out that the twins are not his.
