AFTER THE HORRORS of my marriage, I promised myself I would never again get seriously involved with a man.
I made that promise to myself when I got my divorce at 28. That was after nearly five years of an unhappy marriage, and about three years of separation.
My marriage failed because my husband was a womanizer.
His womanizing started just two months after we were married – following my becoming pregnant. He was my first boyfriend, and as we were churchgoers our parents felt that we should do the right thing and get married.
Unfortunately, I started having complications during the pregnancy, suffering from serious back problems and swollen feet.
I therefore had to take time off work and could not have sex for the last four months of my pregnancy.
My husband started flirting during this time. After the baby came he did not even try to stop. At first he lied; later he did it openly regardless of what his family and our pastor said.
Consequently, he and I lived like strangers in our rented house. I was in one bedroom and he was in another. We talked for any length of time only when we had to deal with our child or when he was driving me to work on mornings. He never came for me in the evenings, but he always made sure he took me to work.
Other than that, he paid the rent while I paid the phone, water and light bills. We bought groceries separately, cooked for ourselves and shared nothing else.
When our child was two years old, I had a little house party, to which other mothers brought their kids. I mentioned it to him and he got involved, helping serve drinks, ice cream and other treats. It was a really good day. Afterwards he said he would try to change and begged me to give him a chance.
I agreed, and for the next two months he really tried to be a husband.
After that period, although I did not fully trust him, I allowed him to get close to me, and for the next seven months we started living like a married couple again. He actually began acting as he did when we were courting.
But it was a sham. He wanted $5 000 to help with his down payment on a mortgage. Knowing how thrifty I was, he decided to woo me, get it from me, then leave me out again.
Somewhere in the third month after we got back together he called me at work and told me the car broke down and would need a new transmission. He told me the estimate for the job was $3 500, which he did not have as he was repaying a debt he had incurred while with his last friend.
Like the dutiful wife I always wanted to be, I told him I would get the money from the bank for him. So said, so done. At lunch I placed 45 $100 bills in his hand. He kissed me, gave me a tight squeeze and told me he loved me.
Two days later he told me the guy would be finished the following day, but he was wondering if it wouldn’t make sense to paint the car one time so it would look like new.
Thinking that he was broke, and feeling he had learnt his lesson from running around, I gave him the $1 500 he said it would cost.
The paint job would take at least a week to ten days, depending on the weather, as it was raining a lot at that time.
All this time my husband was still playing a remorseful, dutiful role. I later found out he needed to continue being nice to me until he could get the keys to his house.
After two weeks he brought back the car and the paint job looked really poor.
The truth is he and a bodywork friend did all the work on the car. There was never anything wrong with the transmission. So all the money I gave him was put into his house.
I found out a week after he got the keys through a slip by his bodywork friend. He asked my husband what time they would cut the grass around the house. So I asked, “What house?” My husband quickly said he had agreed to help his friend cut the grass around his grandmother’s house.
Something bothered me about that answer, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
A week later my husband told me he was moving out. He said he cared for me and our child but had realized in the seven months we were together that we had little in common and would be best apart.
I was shocked. I never saw it coming. I thought that we were doing well together and I had grown to want him again in my life. I had visions of having another child and us really being a family for the first time.
But he shattered them with that statement.
For the first time in our relationship I lost my mind.
I slapped him in his face and began cuffing away at him.
I couldn’t believe that I could ever be that violent, but I had reached my limit. I was striking him so much that he ran out, jumped into the car and sped off.
I recently turned 40 and have not been involved with a man since then.
I worked hard and, through my thriftiness, saved enough to go forward for a home on my own.
I raised my son on my own too. In May or June he will be doing CXCs, then, hopefully, will go to university and do well.
I go to church and have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour and therefore have no room for anyone else in my life. The road I’ve travelled hasn’t been easy, but the success I have gained so far has made the journey worthwhile.
I’m speaking out because I am tired of women thinking they need a man in their lives to achieve their goals.
All women need is a resolve to succeed and a work ethic to match that spirit. I did it and hundreds, maybe even thousands of women, have done it before me, so I would encourage women to forget these lying, worthless men and get on with their lives.
