46-year-old Ngozi married her first love, Innocent (47), in 2007, and from the moment they met, she was certain they were soulmates. But over the years, what started as a fairy tale slowly to a story of deception, depression loneliness and heartbreak.
Ngozi’s story, as told to Mofiyinfoluwa:
Innocent and I met in secondary school, and from the beginning, it felt like we were made for each other. Everyone knew us – the students, teachers, and even people in town. They would tease us when we walked hand in hand, but we didn’t care. We did everything together.
He was the only child of a petty trader, and even though they didn’t have much, that made me love him more. I understood what it felt like to grow up alone. I was my mother’s only child, and after she died, I moved in with my grandmother. My father and half-siblings were distant people I barely knew. So when Innocent came along, it felt like I had finally found home.
The first time he broke my heart was shortly after we finished secondary school. I found out he’d impregnated his mother’s salesgirl. He denied it over and over again, even after her family came to disgrace him publicly. It wasn’t until the baby came out looking like his photocopy that he finally admitted it was a “one-time mistake.”
I was devastated, but I took him back. I was so deeply in love, and believed him when he said it meant nothing. At the time, I was writing my JAMB exams and decided to choose a university in the west, far from him and our town in the east. Innnocent applied to a top-ranked university closer to home but couldn’t afford the fees, and he didn’t like the course he was offered. So, he stayed behind to help his mother’s business, while I went off to school.
Even though I was far away, I stayed faithful to Innocent. I sent him part of my pocket money. I’d lie about my school expenses just to squeeze money out and send it to him. Sometimes, I would travel down to visit him because they were struggling to eat.
This went on for about three years. Every year, he applied for Engineering, but they kept offering him Estate Management. By the time I got to 400-level, I was exhausted. Everyone, including his family and mine, begged him to accept the course and move on.
My friends couldn’t understand why I stayed with him. They pointed out that I was clearly ahead of him now and wasn’t gaining anything from the relationship. I had other suitors too, but I didn’t care. We had made a promise to stay faithful to each other, and in my heart, I still believed in that vow.
After I graduated and completed my NYSC in 2004, I moved back to the East — partly to pursue my master’s degree, but mostly to be close to Innocent. I took up a job as a teacher and waited patiently for him to finish school. When he finally did, we didn’t waste time. We got married in 2007, just like we had planned.
The early years of marriage weren’t easy, but we were hopeful. Estate management ultimately proved to be a blessing. Innocent is naturally persuasive and skilled with people, so things progressed quickly for him. Before long, he was handling properties across the country. We were building the fairytale life I’d always dreamed of.
Until it wasn’t…
I had just given birth to our first child two years after marriage, in 2009, when I started hearing whispers. People kept mentioning another child with another woman. I confronted him with evidence this time, and he broke down crying. He said it was a mistake. But what hurt even more was discovering that the child was about a year older than ours. It didn’t make sense to me. He was the one who insisted we wait until we were stable before trying for kids, so why didn’t that same logic apply? I was nursing a newborn and already exhausted from life. So I stayed.
And then, just like that, we became really wealthy. The kind of wealth I never even dreamed of. From the outside, everything looked perfect. But behind closed doors, I was battling fertility issues. We had agreed that our daughter shouldn’t grow up alone, and I desperately wanted to give her siblings. The doctors said stress might be a factor, so Innocent encouraged me to quit my job. We eventually turned to IVF, and after months of trying, I finally got pregnant with twin boys. I gave birth in December 2014.
I was still recovering from the delivery when someone came to congratulate me and said, “Wow. Your husband is a new father of triplets!” I laughed and corrected her. “No o, I had twins. Not triplets.” But she shook her head and said, “I didn’t make a mistake. He just had another son with a woman in town.”
That one broke me completely. I collapsed on the spot and became deeply depressed in the weeks and months that followed. I kept asking myself how this man could hurt me the same way, over and over again. But I now had three children, with no job, and had poured every part of myself into this marriage. He begged again, and I stayed again. But something inside me shut down.
People had always said that he married me out of guilt; this incident solidified my doubts. I became distant and emotionally numb. By then, he wasn’t even hiding it anymore. He openly paraded women all over the city. One day, I was so lost in thought that I left my car and walked for nearly two hours. I didn’t realise I had wandered to the outskirts of town until a stranger stopped me and asked if I was okay.
After that, everyone agreed I needed help. I didn’t argue — I needed the space. Innocent got us a house abroad, and I moved there with the kids. Despite everything Innocent had done, I missed him. I was still in love with him. A part of me kept hoping he’d walk through the door one day, ready to be the man I fell in love with. Could it be that money had changed him?
Then one random day, while scrolling through Instagram, I came across a birth vlog. It was a woman in London giving birth. And there he was — my husband — right beside her, holding her hand. I did some research and discovered that he had married her, too.
I collapsed. Again.
That was when I knew: I couldn’t keep living like this. But I also couldn’t leave. Not yet. I didn’t want to lose my children. I didn’t want to lose the life I had sacrificed everything for. So I made peace with my reality.
I never confronted him. What was the point? I already knew everything I needed to know. Now we’re still married, but not really together. We speak only when necessary. He visits and sends money. I do what I have to do, and it works for me.
I plan to wait until my children are grown. Until they’re strong and settled and don’t need me every day. Then maybe, when we’re old and grey, I’ll finally have the strength to leave him.
