The Father Who Refused Outsiders and Lost Everything

My parents had three daughters: me, my sisters Adzo, Enyonam, and Peace. I’m the youngest. During a family meeting a few years ago, we discussed Adzo’s marriage. As the eldest, she was on her third marriage at that time. My father said, “Adzo, you need to make this one work. You’ve brought enough shame to this family. This should be your last marriage, or you will no longer be considered my daughter.”

Adzo had a response ready. We could all see the anger building in her, and we knew it would be explosive. She retorted, “Maybe if you stopped choosing unsuitable men for me, things would have turned out differently. You keep meddling in my life, trying to control every aspect, even who I should sleep with.”

Silence fell over the room. Adzo stormed out, followed by my mother and then Peace. I was left alone with my father. I told him, “She’s right. You can’t keep selecting partners for your daughters and then blame us when the marriages fail.”

Growing up, our father constantly insisted we marry within our tribe. He even made sure our friends were from the same background. If he discovered we had friends outside our tribe, he would punish us until we ended those friendships.

Adzo always lived in our hometown, allowing our father to control her life completely. Peace moved to Kumasi and found a man. Despite the strong opposition and threats from our father, she married him anyway. He didn’t attend the wedding, nor did he allow our mother to go.

A year into Peace’s marriage, her husband passed away. Two years later, she remarried a man from outside our tribe. Eight months into that marriage, he also died. Peace took away a chilling message: “If you don’t marry within our tribe or let me choose for you, they won’t survive.” She has been living with a man for four years now, and only I know about it. Perhaps he’s still alive because they aren’t married.

On my graduation day, my father pulled me aside and said, “Come home and find a man. The men you see here aren’t good for you. They aren’t pure-blooded.” “Pure-blooded?” I asked. He replied, “You wouldn’t understand.”

My love life has always been complicated. I’ve always wanted to find my own partner, regardless of his tribe. Yet, I couldn’t shake the fear instilled by Peace’s experiences. It seemed too coincidental that the men she married died. Knowing my father, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

Finally, I mustered the courage to call home one afternoon to share my happy news: “Dad, I found a man who wants to marry me. He’d like to come home to meet…” Before I could finish, he interrupted, “Where is he from, and who is his father?”

“Um… Dad, is that really the most important thing right now? He makes me happy, and that’s what matters.” He repeated, “Where is he from, and who is his father?”

I fell silent. He said, “I know what that silence means. You know what I want for you. Please don’t make me repeat it.” “But Dad, you haven’t exactly chosen great partners for your daughters. Why not let me try?” He replied, “You can try, but make sure he’s from our tribe. That’s all I ask.”

For days, I struggled to convey my father’s words to my boyfriend, but I eventually did. I explained everything about my family and my father’s obsession with marrying within our tribe. I also shared what happened to Peace when she chose her own path. He asked, “So you think your dad is responsible for the deaths of Peace’s husbands?” I replied, “I didn’t say that, but I can’t deny it either. Two consecutive deaths can’t just be a coincidence, right?”

My boyfriend didn’t believe in spiritual matters, so my words didn’t frighten him. Instead, he was determined to win my father over. He made several calls to my dad to try to gain his approval, but my father remained unmoved. We traveled to my hometown to see him, but my father firmly ordered him not to set foot on his property. My mother found a way to warm up to my boyfriend, but my father never did.

After a year of trying, we gave up and decided to get married. My father didn’t attend the wedding, but my mother came with some of her siblings and family members. That was enough for us to proceed.

Then the problems began…

Twice, my husband faced life-threatening situations. He started experiencing seizures, heart issues, and other strange ailments he had never encountered before. It became alarming, so we sought help from my father’s older brother to talk to my dad. He suggested we buy some traditional items to appease him. We did, but my father refused to accept them.

One night, my uncle called me. He explained how the family had tried to persuade my father to forgive and visit us, but my dad refused. He complained about me bringing shame to the family by disobeying him and accused me of disrespecting his name.

After sharing this, my uncle said, “Alice, you’ve done your part, and the whole family supports you now. Your dad can’t harm you in any way. The day he tries, that day he’ll fall.”

I could sense the anger in his voice, but it brought me comfort. I rushed to tell my husband, who was skeptical. He wanted to know why my father was so intent on destroying us. I told him, “One day, it will all make sense.”

For several months after my uncle’s call, we faced no issues. Then one morning, my mom called, “Alice, your dad… he’s been sick for a while, and it’s getting worse.” My heart sank. I asked to speak to him, but he refused. I called daily to check on him, sending money for his care and buying the prescribed medications.

On Saturday morning, I woke up to five missed calls from my mother. When I called back, she answered in tears. “Your dad didn’t make it,” she said. I cried a little, feeling guilty for not reconciling with him.

Years later, my mom tried to explain his behavior: “Your dad’s family has never married outsiders. It’s a tradition that goes back to their great-grandfathers. Look at the children of his siblings; none of them married outside the tribe. You all made him feel like a black sheep.”

“So he was truly responsible for everything that happened to us, including the deaths of Peace’s husbands?” I asked. She replied, “One day, when you meet him again, ask him!”

—Alice  
Kindly SHARE this story. Someone on your timeline needs it.  
Do you have any relationship experiences to share? Email it to editors@etechx.co.ke  

Like our Facebook page to stay updated on new posts.