There’s life without the ‘Mrs’ title – Part 2
Kindly read another lady to further understand the desperate quest for the Mrs. title!“I met him during one of my trips to the UK. He has multiple degrees but no meaningful job. As our relationship deepened and we began to talk marriage, I encouraged him to relocate to Nigeria for job hunting.
I also promised to work my contacts in that regard.Less than one year after our meeting, we got married and he relocated to Nigeria and joined me in Abuja…my base.We have been married for over three years and, in these years, I have found nothing less than seven jobs for him but he turned all of them down, claiming that they are beneath him.
Accommodating, clothing and feeding him was taking a huge toll on me but I kept my cool. My second car is what he drives… I used to also fuel the car for him. Even when my younger ones visited and wondered if I was with my senses to be “feeding” a grown man, I told them to mind their business.
I wanted my marriage to work and didn’t want money to be the cause of our disintegration.
God has blessed me with a good job and I didn’t feel it was too much for me to stand by my man until he found his feet. The only thing that demoralised me was his disinterest in starting small.It seemed like every job I found for him was beneath him.
At a point, my contacts that I was disturbing to help find jobs for him started ignoring me each time I brought up his case. They didn’t see him as a serious person. Still, I persisted.Eventually, a friend that has serious contacts at a private University in a South Western state got him a lecturing job. He was supposed to sit in for a lecturer that was battling health challenges and if the school authority approved of him, he would become a permanent staff.
Our joy knew no bounds and my husband began to make preparations for the job. We even agreed on how we would be alternating our visits to ensure that distance doesn’t affect our relationship. He was supposed to leave on Friday…to familiarise himself with the environment and then report to work the upper Monday.
But I got home from work on Wednesday to meet an empty house…with the key at the lock. I thought he had gone to pick stuff from a nearby shop, only for me to get to our bedroom to realise that this man had picked everything of his from the room.As in, no pin of his was left behind.I went to the bathroom and not even his soap or sponge was left behind. His books from the shelf were also gone. That was when it occurred to me that this was a well-planned move.
So, I began to call him…
I must have called him up to 50 times but he never picked or replied my calls. Not even the text messages were replied. At some point, he would switch off his phone when he is not giving me a “user busy.”I cried for days! I couldn’t face my family…especially my siblings that never liked him from the start.
I am the eldest child of our parents. I was even too shame-faced to tell friends what happened to me.I was also too angry to contact his people. Eventually, I got hold of my emotions and stopped calling him. I focused all my attention on my job but I also put a stop to the IVF treatment that I was undergoing at the time.
About six months later (last month), his father (whom I used to relate well with) began to call me.Also his elder brother in Europe. From their words, I gathered that the lecturing job didn’t work out again. And he wants to move back in with me.
When I relayed what he did to the father, he expressed shock and claimed that he didn’t know all that. Then he asked me to give him some time to talk to the son.
That night when he called me back, he pleaded with me to take the son back. He also said that the son claimed he was depressed being idle and just needed to get away to clear his head. And that his action had nothing to do with me, as he still loves me.He has also tried contacting me a couple of times but I refused to indulge him. His action really broke me. Thinking of all the sacrifices that I made towards him. And even the times he took my money without telling me.’’