My boyfriend started having issues at work when Corona reared its ugly head. At first, his company called all the employees and asked them to choose between being laid off or reducing their salaries by fifty percent so they could continue working. They all chose to receive the fifty percent cut so they could continue working. His salary wasn’t that much. He always complained and even started looking elsewhere for opportunities until the corona came.
I am a nurse. It was just about that time that I also started receiving some increment in salaries and some bonuses. We had dated for three years and had even started talking about marriage when the unfortunate thing happened. He continued receiving the fifty percent less salary for about four months until finally, the company laid him off. I remember the week he was laid off, he had used all his savings to renew his rent. He said, “If I knew this was going to happen, I would have held on a bit with the rent.” It was too late. All he had to do was to look for another opportunity.
That was when the borrowing from me started. He will call me one morning and say, “My light went off last night. I have to load my prepaid but where’s the money? Could you please lend me some money? I will pay next week.” I knew he wasn’t going to pay the next week as promised but I gave it to him, believing if not the next week, someday when things are better, he would pay. It moved from light bill to water bill. From water bill to transport money; “I had a call to attend an interview. Could you lend me something and add to my debt stock?” I always did and he was grateful.
In my mind, I was helping a partner to get on his feet again. I saw him when things were right. He was kind and loving. I didn’t have to ask anything from him but he always found a way to give me something. The phone I’m typing on it right now was given to me by him and it’s the most expensive phone I’d ever used. He was the loving kind but when his job was gone, it went along with all those romantic gestures.
One evening I was with him when he said, “The way things are going I would have to start something on my own. I don’t know when this is going to end so I better start making my own bed instead of hoping for a better bed prepared for me in the future.” Starting something requires money he didn’t have. Again, I was the one he ran to. I gave it out to him willingly. He said, “I would refund everything I’d taken from you when things start to pick up.” Things didn’t pick up as expected but he was trying. I could see the diligence and care in his effort and believed he would come out right.
At some point, he brought me some amount saying, “Now I have something so let me pay a little of what I owe you.” That was one of the happiest days of my life. Knowing he’s making enough to at least try to pay what he owed. A week later, he came back for the same amount he gave me and even suggested I gave him more.
October last year, he was doing well. It was obvious because he hadn’t asked for money from me in a long while. He even started missing my calls and not call back because he was very busy, delivering orders in “weird and obscured places.” He was mostly on his motorbike so I believed him. Yes, I didn’t understand why he wasn’t able to call back but hey, things happen all the time.
One Saturday evening, I called his phone several times and he didn’t pick. It’s been weeks since I saw him. I was calling to tell him I was coming around. When he didn’t pick up, I thought, “Maybe he’s busy driving around. Let me go to his house and wait for him there. It was around 7:15pm when I got there. I inserted my key and it didn’t go through. There was a key behind the lock, meaning someone was inside. I called his phone again. No answer. I went to stand at the window leading to the hall. I could hear music playing. I called his phone again. No answer. I went to stand at the window leading to the bedroom.
I could hear faint voices. It wasn’t clear enough to know who was talking but it was clear enough to know the voices belonged to a lady and a guy. I stood by the window for close to twenty minutes until I heard laughter, followed by a lady’s voice and then his voice followed. All weren’t clear so I didn’t hear what they were saying. “But why would he not pick my calls? And why is he in the bedroom with another woman?”
I started banging at the window and mentioning his name all the while. “I know you’re there and I know you’re there with a lady. Come out before I break the door. There was silence. Long silence. And then his call came to my phone. “He said, “My friend called that you are at the window shouting. Please I’m not home. Those there are my friend and his girlfriend. I’m doing late deliveries, I would come and see you afterward.” I said, “Alright but why didn’t you pick my calls but picked your friend’s call when he called to tell you I was banging at the window?” He said, “I saw your calls but wanted to call later and he too called.”
I said, “No problem. I’m going home. Come around after doing your deliveries. “
Two hours later, his door flung opened. He stepped out, followed by a girl who looked like a seventeen-year-old girl. Immediately he saw me, he jolted. I was peacefully seated at the steps leading to his room with my chin in my palm looking at him. He turned suddenly to look at the girl behind him. I was only waiting to hear what he would say. He started stammering, “I’m sorry, please be patient let’s talk about it. I beg you in the name of God.” He knelt down as the girl walked past him and went away.
Sometimes, I wonder why God gave erection to men who don’t have money of their own. How can you cheat when you can’t pay your own bills? But I could understand his choice of the girl he cheated with—a girl who could be half his age. I was thrown into a rage. I said the worse I could say while he was down looking at me with pleading eyes. I put my hand into his pocket and took his wallet. I found GHC200 inside. I went inside, picked his work bag, and saw GHC1950 inside. I quickly did the maths. “You’re owing me GHC8,050. I give you one month, if you’re not able to pay, I swear I would turn you into ashes.”
I walked away with my heart in pieces.
I blocked his line so he could spare me his incessant calls and messages. He came around my house but I threatened him to leave before I report him to the police and I meant it. I did everything not to see his sorry face anywhere close to me. A week later, “I called him and spoke calmly and friendly to him, “When should I come for the rest of my money?” He said calmly, “I would pay, just give me some time.” He started pleading again. Saying how restless the event had made him and how he hadn’t been able to work for some days because of the issue. I told him, “Just pay my money. When you don’t owe me, I will have a clear mind to hear your apologies.”
He’s still paying my money. Every weekend, he brings something. I say thank you and he leaves. I’m waiting till the last dime on my money is paid so I can tell him to go to hell with his seventeen-year-old girlfriend.