Everyone Judged My Wife Before Marriage

Every Christmas, I make the journey to Saltpond to visit my mother. Her house was an open home where neighbors would come to collect water every morning and evening. My mom held the keys to the tap, so when they arrived early, they would knock on her door to ask for them.

Our mornings began with the sound of a stranger knocking and ended when everyone in the community had filled their tanks. One morning, while I was outside brushing my teeth, a tall woman with fair skin and a gap in her teeth approached me, asking for the keys to fetch water. I stared at her for a moment, wiped the foam from my mouth, and asked, “Are you here to buy water?” as if I hadn’t heard her the first time. She replied, “Yes.”

Normally, I would call my mom to inform her about someone wanting to fetch water, but with this fair lady, I walked inside, grabbed the keys, and returned to open the tap for her. I watched as the water flowed into her bucket until it was full, then helped her carry it. I asked, “Will you come back again?” She replied, “Yeah, I will.”

I waited for her to return, and she did, going back and forth several times. I asked her name, and she said, “Dufie.” I introduced myself as Ekow, visiting from Accra for the holidays, and asked if she could be my friend. She responded, “You’ve helped me a lot today. Why not? We’re already friends.”

Before I left town, I got her number. That day, we talked for hours, even into the night, until we were both yawning. “She likes me. I know she does,” I thought to myself.

When I returned to Accra, I proposed to her, and she said yes. “That was easy! No hesitation or ‘give me some time to think’? Or do girls with gaps in their teeth not play hard to get?” It was the happiest day of my life, and I felt a new light shining on my existence. “I have a beautiful girlfriend with diastema,” I would say with a smile.

About a month later, I called my cousin in Saltpond and told him, “I’m dating Dufie now, so please keep an eye on her for me.” He asked, “Dufie?” I confirmed, and there was a long pause. “Forget about her. If you just want a fling, that’s fine, but to date her?” I inquired, “Why do you say that? Does she sleep around?” He replied, “Not like that, but everyone knows Dufie isn’t marriage material. She’s too wild and uncontrollable. She won’t hesitate to fight you or anyone else in public if you cross her.”

Wild? Uncontrollable? Willing to fight in public? What does that have to do with me?

We dated for three years, and I never saw any signs of that behavior. They said it was a long-distance relationship, making it hard for me to see her true self, or perhaps she was hiding her true colors until marriage. My mom didn’t know I was dating her until one day I brought Dufie home to introduce her as the woman I intended to marry. When my mom saw her, she exclaimed, “Dufie? Isn’t she the girl who comes here to fetch water?” I confirmed, realizing she had something to say but couldn’t express it in Dufie’s presence.

Once Dufie left, my mom pulled me aside and said, “If you truly know this girl’s character, you wouldn’t consider marrying her. She fights with everyone who comes here for water every morning. She’s always hyper and ready to confront anyone who disrespects her. I can’t let you go that far with her.” My mom wouldn’t listen to me. I insisted, “I’ve known her for three years, and she hasn’t disrespected me or fought with me. She’s a good girl.” Mom replied, “Oh, then she’s just pretending. She’ll show you her true colors after you marry her. Don’t let her beauty deceive you; you’ll regret it.”

I realized I couldn’t win this argument. That night, I confronted Dufie about what my mom had said. She responded, “I don’t go around fighting people; I stand up to those who try to take advantage of me. I respect those who respect me. Those who try to walk over me are the ones who have issues with me. Have I ever been disrespectful to you?”

I spoke to my uncle about my intention to marry Dufie and my mom’s opposition. My uncle, though level-headed, was an alcoholic, so people often dismissed his opinions. He asked, “Do you know her well enough to believe she’ll be a good wife?” I replied, “Yes, I believe she would be. I love her.” He said, “You’re the one marrying her and living with her. If you truly love her and believe she’ll make a good wife, don’t let anyone come between you two.”

My uncle took it upon himself to persuade my mother, and eventually, he succeeded. I don’t know how he did it, but soon my mom told me, “If you’re still set on this, I give you my blessing, but if things go wrong, don’t come to me.” I had won my mother’s approval, but the community still believed Dufie was a poor choice. “My son, you’re stepping on a grenade,” one man warned.

We got married in June. On our wedding day, it rained from morning until evening, delaying the ceremony for hours, and the church was still only half full. One man told me, “God is trying to tell you something. If you’d only listen, you wouldn’t go through with this wedding.” That was the only moment I felt scared about my decision. Our reception was rained out, and I remember the food being served under a shelter for those who didn’t mind the rain.

After the wedding, my uncle said, “My son, you’ve made a good choice. She’s beautiful. If you marry a beautiful woman, even if she lacks good character, people will praise you for it.” Clearly, he had consumed a lot of alcohol.

I moved to Accra with my wife to start our new life together. As we left Saltpond, the family gathered to bid us farewell, but all I could think was, “You’ll soon call us to say we were right.”

The first three months of our marriage were nothing short of amazing. She asked questions about everything, and I was happy to teach her. She wasn’t ashamed of what she didn’t know and was always eager to learn. I only had to teach her something once, and the next day she would do it like a pro.

She took a job that didn’t pay well, but she accepted it because she was tired of staying home for six months. When she received her first salary, she asked, “What should we do with my money?” I told her, “It’s not much, so keep it for yourself. Buy what you need, and I’ll handle the rest.” But she didn’t do that. Instead, she started paying the electricity and other bills that her salary could cover.

Not long after, she landed a better-paying job. Every Friday before we finished work, she would call me and say, “I’ve heard about a place with great food; let’s go there tonight.” After work, I would take a taxi to meet her. We would eat, drink, and return home late. And guess what? She would pay for everything, saying, “I’m supposed to cook for you, and I brought you here. Let me pay for my sins.”

One morning, she woke me up and said, “Get up; we’re going to buy a car.” I asked, “Are you serious? With whose money?” She replied, “Stop thinking and just get ready.” I got up, dressed, and followed her. We visited four different car dealerships and negotiated on four different cars. When we settled on a price, she would tell the seller, “We’ll be back later to buy it.” After leaving the fourth dealership, she said, “At least now we know which cars we want and how much they cost. Let’s go home and work towards it.”

Six months later, just before Christmas, she said, “Let’s get a car for Christmas. I’ve saved this much; how much do you have?” When we checked, she had already saved 60% of the amount. I contributed the remaining 40%, and two days later, on Christmas Sunday, we drove our new car to church.

She naturally became the head of our family, a position she didn’t seek or fight for; she earned it. Leaders bring ideas, and all the great ideas came from her. She would propose a plan one day and execute it perfectly the next. All I had to do was be a willing partner. We’ve been married for six years, and throughout that time, she hasn’t had a single bad plan. When I married her, I brought her to my single-bedroom house with a small kitchen, where we shared a washroom with other tenants. I had plans to move but didn’t know when. One day, she told me, “We need a new place. I wouldn’t want to raise my kids here.” A year later, we moved into a two-bedroom apartment.

She only has to express her desires, and they get fulfilled. If she needs to confront someone, even me, she will do it to ensure we get what we need.

My friends tease me when I say, “I’ll have to ask my wife’s opinion.” They ask, “Why do you always involve your wife in conversations?” They think she dictates my life or runs the show. They don’t understand that she is the reason for my success. The last time I started listing all the things I wouldn’t have achieved without her, I realized that everything I own now comes from having Dufie as my wife. Everything I had and who I was before marriage has been replaced with something better, as if she intentionally planned for it.

Why wouldn’t I seek her opinion before making decisions? In our home, she leads, and I follow. I have no reason to argue or assert that “I’m the man of the house.” I simply trust her judgment, and so far, it has worked out well.

We have two children: a boy and a girl. The girl is only four, but I already see her mother in her. Recently, while preparing them for school, I told her, “If you turn out like your mother, people might call you riotous, unrestrained, or even a witch, but you’ll rule your space if you stay true to yourself.”

—Ekow,
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