He: To be fair, even if I am the one saying so, I can beat my chest and say that I am the best husband in the world to the woman I was married to for thirteen years.

I had my flaws, but they didn’t include cheating on her with another person, either physically or emotionally, or physical violence.

Towards the end of the marriage, I stopped having sexual relations with her for eleven months.

I also stopped eating her food.

I was tired of the union, and I was determined to enforce a change from her, or part ways with her as amicably as possible.

What was it that I wanted her to change?

We had an agreement when we got married that we would build on our strengths as a couple and eliminate our weaknesses. We had the conversation at the famous Jevinik restaurant right after I graduated from the FRCN training school.

She was already a broadcast journalist at the time, while I was a writer peddling my writings (manuscripts) about looking for a publisher who would publish my work so that I could qualify for the NNLG annual awards and win some big money.

A friend of mine published a book, and I was invited to the launch and public reading of her work at Victoria Island. I was invited to read three of the poems in the poetry book, and my baritone voice stole the show.

Some of the writers and broadcasters present at the launch took notice of me and came round to commend me after my reading.

They took my number and promised to reach out to me.

My wife was there too.

At the time, she was single, popular, and well celebrated.

She came around as I was getting some biscuits while basking in the accolades and asked if I had some written works of my own. I said I did, and she said she would like to read them.

I always carried some copies of my manuscripts with me.

I immediately gave her a copy of each of two different novels I had written.

She promised to read them and asked if I would come to an event happening the following Saturday at the Oriental Hotel, Lagos for her feedback.

I went to the event as her guest, and it turned out that she was winning an award for her broadcasting work and she had no one to celebrate it with but me.

That was our first date!

She got the award, and I stood up and cheered her all the way.

After the award, we went to dinner together at Four Points by Sheraton, and we had a very long night of talking and sharing about life, our dreams, and aspirations.

She made me an offer.

She was twenty-eight, alone in this world, and desperate to have a family. I was thirty, an unpublished writer without any financial support whatsoever and without a stable source of income (I was a freelance journalist and I was also a reporter for a show on LTV at this time, but not a staff member of LTV)

She said she would sponsor the publication of my books (I had written ten novels, four plays, and two collections of poems) in exchange for my hand in marriage.

She would be my patron, and I would be her husband.

I agreed.

She swung into action and introduced me to some prolific writers and literary critics who read my works and recommended them for publication.

Some publishers showed serious interest, but nothing panned out.

Meanwhile, we were already having serious sex and planning our wedding.

She also gave me some money towards my writing projects occasionally. Mostly, whenever I got frustrated and threatened to quit the marriage to find greener pastures abroad.

I believed in my creative ability, and I was sure it would one day bring me some great fortune.

I was, however, unable to convince anyone of note, even with my wife’s influence, to do the same.

She started dropping babies. I became a family man. I stayed at home and wrote or went out for the occasional freelance gig.

She would offer me one piece of good news or the other about my works being published, but nothing ever panned out.

Eventually, I met a publisher at the Wole Soyinka Award for Investigative Journalism event in 2019.

This was eight years into the marriage and three children after.

The publisher said he had never heard of me but would sincerely read my work and get back to me.

I deliberately didn’t mention this development to my wife.

I got published online, and the work made a lot of money both locally and internationally under a pseudonym.

The publisher who stuck out an arm for me to bring my talent into fulfilment was a woman. Our relationship was professional, and I met with her only three times.

That night at the award ceremony (My wife won an award, and I went to offer her my support), the day she called me to sign a contract with her publishing firm after one of my books got accepted at DorranK publishers, and the day she explained to me that they had to use a pseudonym because they wanted the audience to resonate with my brand.

I didn’t know anything about the woman beyond what I had stated.

My wife, however, saw the woman as a threat. I still cannot understand why.

She called the woman every evil name she could think of and forbade me from talking to or contacting the woman again, if I don’t want her to destroy the woman’s name and career on social media and in real life!

I didn’t bother telling her about my work getting published for two reasons.

I had come to realise that my wife didn’t want me to be a published writer despite what we agreed on before we got married.

She felt being published would change our arrangement, and I would be persuaded to leave her if I became successful.

“Why rock the boat?”

I came to know this when I saw the email she sent to her aunt in London, who asked her what I was doing apart from being married to her and how she was coping with the jobless man she had married.

Family members overestimate their kinfolks. Instead of them being grateful that their girl eventually got a man who helped her fulfil her dream of having a family, they all treated me like I was a leech living off their girl.

When I received my first payment, I took my wife to dinner to tell her the good news.

I practically murdered sleep from that day.

My success triggered her insecurities in a manner that was similar to Sherman Klump becoming Buddy Love.

The kind natured, encouraging and warm woman became a witch or sorts overnight.

Accusations began to fly everywhere. She even swore that she was never going to spend a penny of my blood money.

Suddenly, I was a cheat, an ingrate and a philanderer.

She began to record our conversations, screen grab chat exchanges, and gathering evidence in general so that she would get to keep the children after our divorce.

She said she knew she failed to deliver on her part of the contract we agreed upon but it was not for want of trying.

She said it was a breach of contract for me to reach out to someone else to help me and it showed a lack of trust in what we were building.

She said she felt I loved our family, but I had shown that my personal ambition was all i cared about.

At a point, the guerrilla warfare was too much for me.

Peace today, war tomorrow. A smile today, a total meltdown tomorrow. Asking me why I never loved her today and saying she knew I was unfulfilled tomorrow.

I called for a meeting and told her to stop.

I had a contract to write more.

My manuscripts of several years ago were being upgraded by other writers and published by my publishers under my pseudonym, and they were asking for more.

I had been paid an advance for some more books, and I needed a peaceful atmosphere to do my work.

Chaos was never my thing, and that was primarily why I never considered cheating on her.

I needed silence psychologically, emotionally, and physically.

She cranked up the chaos after that meeting. Claiming I was gaslighting her for complaining of being betrayed.

That was why and when I stopped having sex with her.

I was fed up.

I am an emotional being, too, and I can only take so much toxicity before exploding.

She said I should give all my earnings to charity if I love her and want to keep my family.

I love my children, and she knew this. I spent all my time raising them while she bossed the corridors of politics and broadcasting all over the nation.

She said she would take them from me. I told myself she wouldn’t dare because it would be self-sabotage in my opinion.

Where would she put them?

She took them a few days ago.

I got home from a meeting in Brussels today to meet an empty house and a court summons under the door.

She has made good her threat and shattered my world.

What do I do now, brother Gbenga?

Me: Move to a hotel for a while, cry, eat, sleep, and write.

Write furiously

Document your emotions and write this experience through various lenses

Your lens

Your wife’s lens

Your children’s lens (one at a time)

Document both families’ reactions

Go to court with a good lawyer and present all the evidence you have

She cannot keep the children

You are not a poor man who cannot fight for your children and the right to stay in their lives, so fight hard!

Whatever you do, don’t let her blackmail you into choosing between fulfilling your dreams and being a part of your children’s lives

Write the experience in a unique way, publish it, and make money off your pain.

Heal and find love.

You can afford to find true love now, so search for it with all your heart until you find it (don’t buy it)

Invest your money, live a modest life, and write as much as you can until you are rich enough to publish your works under your own name.

It will take a few days, but you will be fine.

-GSW-