My name is Ogechi, it means God’s time. I came to appreciate the meaning of my name in recent times. Life was originally beautiful. The things some struggled to get seemed to come to me with ease. At the age of twenty-three when many of my age mates were still in school or trying to find some direction in life, I married my first crush, Dele Ajayi.
I felt on top of the world, and why not? I had been born with exquisite looks, was intelligent, had studied Catering and Hotel Management had a thriving business and was getting married to my first crush. Life was good. Little did I know that my joy would turn to sorrow and my fairytale would become a nightmare.
So many things were wrong with our union. Too many to mention here. From the get-go, we were standing on a very shaky foundation. Our marriage was quicksand threatening to bury me alive.
In the first two years of our marriage, I got pregnant twice but lost both pregnancies after two months and three months respectively. Initially, Dele showed great understanding and was ever supportive. But after I lost the third pregnancy everything changed.
Dele began to withdraw. I sensed it even before I noticed the uncommon behaviour. Yes, his behaviour had become odd. He began to act out of character. For one thing, he stopped taking his phone calls in my presence. That was not all. He started returning home later than usual and forbade me from ever answering his phone calls. I noticed that a particular number called him the most, the name of the caller showed up as Lisa from Work.
In the beginning, I did not take this as a serious issue because we were supposed to be good Christians. I shudder to think how naïve I was. My husband started travelling and being away from town much longer than his usual two days monthly routine check on the other branches of the company. Gradually, from two days out of town, it increased to two weeks out of town, and then one month out of town. When I tried to discuss my observations with him, we had the biggest quarrel in the history of our marriage and for the first time called in his parents, who lived in the same town to settle us.
To my surprise, I was blamed and accused of trying to hinder his career advancement. Unknown to me, at the time, all his actions had been orchestrated by his family and my offence was that after three years of marriage, I had not produced a child. Suspecting that something was very wrong, I diverted calls on his other phone to my phone and that was when I found out that I had been living with a stranger, I called my husband.
I received a diverted call from Lisa from Work. She assumed Dele had answered the call and asked him to please see her that day as she had taken two pregnancy tests and was confirmed two months pregnant.
That day Dele returned home and told me that he was travelling for one week to South Africa for a marketing conference organized by an American pharmaceutical company. The conference was a big deal and naturally, I was happy for him. Together we prayed for journey mercies and God’s blessings and in the morning, he left for the airport.
One week later, he had not returned and had not called. I was feeling a little worried, but I waited another two days before paying a visit to his office where I was informed that Dele had since returned from the conference, which had lasted only three days. I was also informed that he had been coming to the office.
I was in a state of shock and confusion as I left his office. I went to his father’s house to inform his family of my discovery but to my surprise, I was not even allowed to enter the family house. Not knowing what else to do I went to see my pastor and we prayed and asked God to intervene and save my marriage.
All attempts to reach Dele on the phone failed, and his family members were no longer taking my calls. The news got to me that he was living with his ex-girlfriend, Lisa from Work. She was already visibly pregnant. I had lost a five-year-old marriage to barrenness.
Dele lived in great affluence with his mistress and news about them, as the current celebrated couple was all over Lagos. I remained in our house praying and asking God to restore my marriage. Three months later I was sent the dreaded divorce papers. I read them with unsteady hands and a racing heart. Dele was filing for divorce. That was not enough. He confronted me face-to-face and told me to be reasonable and move on with my life because his life was now better and more meaningful without me.
I wept. I begged him. I sent friends and fellow Christians to him, but he refused to have anything to do with me. He said that he was convinced by “his spirit” that I was a mistake. He said by revelation they (he and his family) saw that I was married in the marine world and was wasting his life and time. After all the attempts to reason with him failed, I signed the divorce papers.
A few months later, I ran into his driver who told me that Dele’s mistress had lost the baby she was carrying, and this was leading him to excessive drinking. Call me a fool if you like but I still cared for him so I sent an email to him consoling him and assuring him that God will give him a child.
Two years later, my over-merciful landlord asked me to leave the house as I could not afford to renew the rent. I had nowhere to live so I was forced to go back to my parents’ house. I only lived with my parents for a month before I experienced the humiliation that a failed marriage can create. I lost all respect; I was mocked openly and called a pregnancy-sucking witch.
Unable to take it anymore, I left my parents’ house and began to move from one friend’s house to another. That also wasn’t easy, but one day God stepped in and right on time too. He intervened just when suicide was becoming sensible to me. After two years of being out of a five-year marriage, I decided to bake a wedding cake for a friend even though I had stopped attending marriage celebrations because of shame and had begun to avoid touching children because I was convinced that I was cursed.
When I agreed to bake my friend a wedding cake, I did not know that it would be the turning point in my story. On the wedding day, I was asked to talk about the cake, and when I finished a man walked up to me and introduced himself as Engr. David Edoziem. He asked if he could sit with me. I responded with a half-hearted, “Yes”.
He sat down and proceeded to tell me that he was a businessman in town for some government business and had been invited to the wedding by the state’s deputy governor. We got talking, and that conversation produced my second husband whom I am still happily married to.
After I told him the story of my life, he responded by saying that with all his success he had not found the time to marry and if I agreed to let him be my first son he would marry me. I laughed because it was the funniest thing I had heard in a long time. I laughed because I thought it was a joke. It was not a joke. The man was serious. Six weeks later we were married.
After my experience with Dele, it was difficult to comprehend that a man could love me and accept me knowing that I could not give him a child. But David made it clear, in words and actions, that he wanted me, with or without a child. If I was worried each time my period came, it was because I wanted to be a mother and not because I wanted to save my marriage. My marriage was very safe. David loved me. It was clear to all. I tried to be happy and accept my barrenness and move on. But little did I know that God was not done with me. Five years into my marriage, I became pregnant and gave birth to our beautiful son whom we named, Isaac. How amazing is that?
When I look back on my twelve-year journey to motherhood, I have great appreciation for my name Ogechi, meaning God’s time. Yes, God has a time for everything, and He will not be rushed. His time does not follow human plan or analysis. I was married to my first husband Dele for five years and spent two years begging and praying for him to return to me. Then I married David, my destiny and soulmate, for five years, totalling twelve years, before baby Isaac came. Twelve years of waiting to hold my baby in my arms. Twelve years of thinking it would never happen. But finally, in God’s time, it did.
-The End-
© Eturuvie Erebor. All Rights Reserved.
