My Wife Says We Can’t Use a Woman’s Money to Buy a Plot of Land

I have been with my wife for about eight years. Out of those eight years, we have been married for three. When I look back now, I sometimes wonder at what point love quietly turned into endurance, and partnership slowly became a one-man project. This is not a story of hatred. It is a story of a man who loved deeply, gave honestly, and is now standing at the crossroads of doubt and responsibility.

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I met her in 2017, shortly after graduating from school. I had completed my studies and was waiting for my National Service posting. I returned to my hometown to spend time with my mother while waiting for the next phase of life to begin. I planned to stay for about a month. I did not know that within that month, my entire future would quietly change.

One morning, I stepped out early. On my way, I passed by a pipe stand. That was where I saw her for the first time. She was dark-skinned, with white teeth and a smile that felt effortless and sincere. It was love at first sight, at least from my end. I stood there for a moment, scratching my head and trying to find the courage and the right words to approach her. Then something happened that still feels like divine alignment to this day. She looked at me calmly and said, “Bra, can you help me carry my pan?”

That was all I needed.

From that morning, I made sure I passed by the pipe stand every day. The tap was conveniently close to my house, and I convinced myself that this was destiny doing the hard work for me. We exchanged greetings, small smiles, and eventually familiarity. I later got her number through my younger sister, and that was how our conversations truly began.

I proposed not long after, and she said yes.

At the time, she was nearing the end of her training as a seamstress. I was not rich. I was not even comfortable. But I believed in partnership. I supported her in every small way I could. I helped her get a table and chairs so she could start sewing on her veranda. We talked about saving together so we could eventually put up a shop for her. It was not just talk. By the grace of God, we achieved it. We put up the shop. I even bought an industrial sewing machine for her. I was proud of her, and proud of us.

In 2020, she got pregnant. In February 2021, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Our plan was to do a small traditional marriage alongside the naming ceremony after she delivered. But life had other plans. Around that same period, I was posted to my current station. I had to gather the little money I had to secure accommodation there. Choices had to be made so I chose stability over celebration.

We eventually married in 2022. That was when things began to change. Slowly at first. Quietly. Almost unnoticeably.

Bad friends entered the picture. The kind of friends who speak boldly but build nothing. Friends who plant ideas without responsibility. Every plan I suggested to safeguard our family was met with resistance. If I suggested buying land together, she would withdraw. I once asked her to add something small to what I had so we could purchase a plot of land. Her response stunned me. She said, “A woman’s money does not buy land.”

I swallowed it. Another time, I suggested that we start saving towards our children’s future. Her reply was even colder. She said, “They are your children. You are the one responsible for their needs.”

Again, I swallowed it.

I did not complain. I did not involve anyone. I told myself that marriage requires patience. I reminded myself that I am the man. I carried the weight quietly and continued to provide the best I could.

What finally broke something inside me was not money or words. It was behavior.

After being away at my station for about three months, I returned home. That very night, she went out drinking with a so-called male friend. The same night I returned. I tried to understand it, to rationalize it, to not look like an insecure man. But my heart was heavy.

Then, about a week ago, something else happened. She told me she was travelling to Takoradi to purchase materials for her work. I did not suspect anything. Later, I found out she had gone with that same male friend. When I confronted her, she said she only went with him so he could guide her to buy items for his wedding.

That explanation left me more confused than relieved. Why lie in the first place? If nothing was wrong, why not speak the truth from the beginning? Why involve another man in plans she deliberately hid from me? Why return home and act like everything was normal?

I love my wife. That truth still stands. But love alone cannot silence doubt forever. Certain attitudes have settled uneasily in my mind, and I find myself questioning things I never imagined I would question. Am I being insecure, or am I responding to repeated red flags I chose to ignore for too long?

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

I am tired of pretending everything is fine when my spirit is unsettled. I am tired of swallowing my concerns to keep peace that feels one-sided. I have reached the point where I am considering involving her parents, not to disgrace her, but to save what we have left.  Family still matters. Elders still speak where emotions fail. But I don’t want to make things worse so I am asking whether to involve her parents or leave things as they are and hope time will soften what words could not.

A lot has changed, and pretending otherwise will not protect my marriage, my peace, or my children.

—Kwabena

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