My Husband Was A Monster In Disguise

I am my family's only daughter plus two elder brothers. We were brought up in a rigid Christian home and my father and brothers were like my armor. You can guess how this was.

My life was simple: home, school, and church. That was all. I was not allowed to go to sleepovers or parties, and I practically did not have any friends. Even when I could go out, my brothers or our chauffeur were always there to take me back. Most of the time, it was my brothers. My dad didn’t even put his trust in the chauffeur for keeping me safe. They were that strict, but it was all for love.

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I studied hard, graduated as a pharmacist, and got a job in a major hospital in Nairobi. When I was 27, I was already doing well and making my own way in the vibrant city.

Then I encountered Louis.

He was an alluring entrepreneur from a famous family, fifteen years older than me, but the age difference didn’t bother me at all. The heart has its reasons. I was in love with him for the simple reason that he was my father reincarnate serene, sagacious, and reassuring. He afforded me security, and I treasured that assurance.

Our romance lasted for more than a year during which he did not even attempt to kiss me or make me uncomfortable in any way. We were just speaking and loving each other like youngsters. I wouldn't have liked having other friends because I felt I had already found my best friend and soulmate in him. I was on top of the world.

My family received him well, and I felt happy about it. My elder brother Yaw, however, was uncomfortable. He said, “I am not at peace with this.” He had an intuition of some sort regarding Louis. We did not give his worries much thought, assuming he was merely playing the part of a brother who wants to protect his sister. My father and brothers carried out a background check on Louis, and everything seemed to be okay, so we took the plunge and got married.

The wedding ceremony went off without a hitch, and I was accepted by his relatives right from the start. I was impressed with their cultures. It wasn't until 3 months into our marriage that I found out the surprise of being pregnant with twins. And we were really ecstatic. I pictured our house being filled with the sounds of wailing babies, tiny feet running around, and bedtime stories. I was ready for that dreamy life which is shown in movies.

But then, Louis started to switch.

He began to get late-night calls and would be gone for hours at a time. When I inquired about it, he would just smile, caress my face, and say, “Oh, it’s just business. You know how it is.” I wanted to trust him; however, a fear that was hard to ignore started to develop inside me.

On the sixth month of my pregnancy, there was a knock at the door. I opened the door and saw the lady whom I believed to be Louis's sister. Since Louis was away for a week, I felt like having some company but the seriousness of her face was a warning sign.

As soon as she sat down, she said, “Adjoa, I have something to tell you. I have a debt to pay you in form of an apology. You are not the one who should bear this.”

I was taken aback, my brain getting a workout. What is she talking about?

She went on to say, “I am not Louis' sister. I am his wife. His first wife.”

I was not able to take her words. However, she remained composed and explained that she and Louis had already been married for close to two decades. They were young when they got married but she couldn't get pregnant because of a health issue. After many operations, they still did not have a baby. They had decided that Louis would look for someone with whom he could have a child. He would not do it until he met me in the hospital. I was their guinea pig; I was supposed to be their baby-making machine.

They discovered me and my family, and Louis made up his mind to be my friend. Nevertheless, when he found out that I was not about to befriend a married man and that I had never had a sexual encounter with a man, they opted to move me as their wife. The woman consented to the strategy as she was longing for a baby. However, after I eventually got pregnant, Louis started to keep a distance from her. He was only talking about me and hadn’t been to her for more than a month. She was hurt and insecure, thus, she came to tell their secret.

The bad news left me in shock, and I remember going unconscious.

When I woke up, I was in denial. I recalled the warning from my brother. My family and I had been fooled. Why would Louis do that to me? I sent the girl away, but she had left an envelope behind. Their marriage licenses, pictures, and other proof were in there.

I was tormented. The only one who could answer my questions was Louis. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. I sat there waiting for him to come back from his trip.

That was the longest time I’ve ever waited in my life. I cried every single day feeling totally isolated.

When he did finally return, I immediately confronted him. At first, he acted as if he did not get what I was saying. But when I presented him with the documents, his face was the one that revealed it all. I was fooled.

I expressed to him my demand for a divorce. I maintained that I would be able to take care of my baby by myself, but I just wanted my liberty. I begged him and told him that I didn’t want to die young.

I really don’t know what I said that was wrong, but something in him broke. I have never seen him so enraged. He started to break things, ruining the furniture. Our living room looked like a war zone in just a few minutes.

I yelled out loud. He paused and came closer. I moved backwards, but he held my wrist tightly. “You think I will let you go?” he asked. “You are my spouse, the parent of my kid, my first love.” Then he yelled, “Are you with another man? I will make your life hell if you even hint at divorce again! You are mine!”

He pulled me to the bedroom. Even though I was screaming and protesting, my husband raped me. He only when he noticed that I was bleeding. He took me to the hospital. By the grace of God, both my child and I are fine.

But at the same time, I have no idea about the person I am living with. His face reminds me of that night. I feel like a hostage. I don’t see Louis now; I see a demon.

I cannot shut my eyes without going through the whole thing again: this fake marriage, the brutality. It is like a ghost that follows me. I wish to call my family and return home, but the fear of his reaction paralyzes me.

My relatives are rich, but he is super rich. I may be pulling the trigger on myself if I step into the courtroom.

It’s been a fortnight already. “What have I done wrong?” is the only thing I keep asking God. “Why me? Did you have such a small offense that you decided to punish me this way?”

I am frightened to death. How can I manage to fake it? The agony is so severe that it feels like my heart is going to break into two. How can I tolerate this?

—Aseda

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