My Husband Was Jailed for 15 Years, but His Family Said I Couldn’t Divorce Him

My husband went to work one day and never returned. The next time we heard from him, he had been arrested and was in police custody. I quickly called his dad and elder brother, and we met at the police station. According to the police, my husband was an armed robber.

We laughed. I looked deep into the eyes of the policeman and told him he might have gotten the wrong person. This is a man I’ve been living with for the past eight years. The same man I had my two kids with. One before we got married and the second after we got married. There had never been a sign that said my husband was an armed robber.

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His dad added his voice and asked how it happened. Apparently, there was a raid in an area my husband had gone to do a delivery. He had a shop that sold spare parts. He also had a motorbike that he used to do deliveries when someone wanted his stuff delivered. My husband said he was in the neighbourhood when the police got there and arrested everyone on site.

The police said they found three phones on my husband, and he couldn’t mention the numbers of the phones. He couldn’t even open the phones when he was given the opportunity to do so. We pleaded for bail. They said there was no bail for robbery cases. We pleaded to get someone to help. The police directed us to their boss. We ended up paying bribes of over GHC10,000. All we got were promises.

Finally, my husband was sent to court. We needed a lawyer. I went to look for one, though I didn’t have the money to pay him. I took money from my husband’s shop to pay this lawyer. I would call the sales guy and collect any amount he had made just to pay the lawyer. He kept telling us he would get my husband out because he had a nice case or alibi or whatever they called it.

We believed him. While the case was going on, my husband’s brother took over the shop and accused me of embezzling the shop’s funds. Money stopped coming, so we couldn’t afford to pay the lawyer. That was how my husband ended up in jail. He was jailed for fifteen years with hard labour.

For two years, I was the only one visiting him every month. He would cry and ask about his family. His dad said he didn’t have money to travel to the prison. His brother, who took over the shop, didn’t release any money to anyone. He kept telling everyone that I’d embezzled all the money, so he was rebuilding. I got tired. I had two kids to take care of all alone, so I decided to move on.

Four years after my husband had been in prison, I found a man who loved me enough to marry me. I took him to my parents. They agreed for me to marry him. He already knew my story, but what he didn’t know was that I hadn’t officially divorced my husband. So my parents and a few of my family members decided we should meet my husband’s family and return their drinks.

Ours wasn’t a court marriage, so I thought it was going to be simple. We met his family, and they refused to accept the drinks. They said they would never allow me to divorce him while he’s in prison. His father told me, “You married a free man. You took him from this house. If you want to divorce him, bring him here today, and we’ll accept your drinks.”

This is the same man who had abandoned his own son ooo. My family got angry, and we left the drinks there. His brother chased us with the drinks and forced them into the cloth of my uncle. He also let them fall, and the bottles got broken. To us, the marriage was over. To them, the marriage was not.

I narrated everything that had happened to this new man who wanted to marry me, Anderson. He found it funny and asked if marriage was by force. I don’t know how it happened, but my husband’s brother found out about Anderson and went to his house to warn him to stay away from me because I was married to his brother.

When I heard, I quickly went to the shop to warn him to stay away from my life. “You took his business from me, but when was the last time you sent money, even to his kids? Stay away from me before it gets rough.”

If he met Anderson in town, he would threaten him and try to embarrass him. One time, he did it at a lorry station, accusing Anderson of sleeping with his brother’s wife. Those there who obviously didn’t understand the issue hooted at Anderson until he left the station disgraced.

Eventually, Anderson left me. I understood him. I begged him to give me one more chance to make things right. He asked what I was going to do to make things right, and I couldn’t say anything. My dad told me, “God is alive. They’ll reap what they’ve sown very soon.”

Who Would You Choose, A Rich Man Or A Man Who’s Good In Bed?

As I speak, my husband’s brother is in a wheelchair, drooling from the corner of his mouth. Someone has to wheel him to the toilet. His father is currently blind and stuck in bed. They’ve been travelling around asking what is going on, but they can’t get answers. The shop has totally collapsed. They sent a delegation to us to plead, but my dad sacked them.

I whispered in my dad’s ear, “Is it coming from you? What did you do?”

He answered, “What do you want? To be happy or to know why you should be happy?”

I want to be happy, obviously, so I’m quiet.

—Rejoice  

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