Korkor folded the last of her friend’s clothes with mixed feelings and zipped the suitcase. Dzifa had been a beautiful bride, and the wedding had been so lovely and emotional, but she couldn’t help but have some reservations. Her friendship with Dzifa was just a year old, but they were like two people who had been friends in another lifetime. They had just clicked, and within a short time, people who saw them together assumed that they had been friends forever.
At a glance, they were very different; Dzifa was boisterous and confident, grabbing attention wherever she went and revelling in it. Korkor was shy and kind of timid, preferring to avoid attention altogether. But in many other ways, they were similar, and their shared interests in baking and handicrafts gave them many ways to bond. Korkor had dredged up some enthusiasm when her friend had announced her upcoming marriage, helped her with the six-month-long planning, and been there for her throughout all the vendor frustrations and wedding shopping. She had even planned and executed a beautiful bridal shower for Dzifa that everyone was still raving about. Indeed, Korkor had played a perfect role as the maid of honour, making sure that the bride was not stressed throughout the traditional marriage ceremony, the church wedding, and the reception party that had followed. Everyone had remarked on what a wonderful maid of honour she had been, and Dzifa was truly grateful for her friend.
However, Korkor was not happy. She was filled with a sense of dread and trepidation that she could not voice out. A little ball of fire had tightened itself inside Korkor when Dzifa had announced her engagement and gotten tighter over time. Korkor couldn’t understand why she was feeling that way. She loved Dzifa and wanted her to be happy, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to be genuinely pleased for her friend. Nonetheless, she had done an impressive job of pretending, and nobody suspected a thing. When the seamstress delivered the final item of clothing Dzifa had ordered before the wedding, Korkor had jumped on the opportunity and offered to pack them into her suitcase for her, and a grateful Dzifa had readily accepted. It had been a relief for Korkor to finally be alone without an audience, where she could slip off the joyful mask and breathe. Unfortunately, she knew that the respite wouldn’t last. The other bridesmaids wanted to record one last ladies’ dance with Dzifa before she drove off with her husband to their new home, and Korkor knew that if she didn’t return, someone would soon come searching for her. Done with the job she came to do, Korkor refreshed her makeup and slipped on her happy mask before going in search of the bride.
“Awo, have you seen Dzifa?” she asked one of the househelps walking towards the kitchen with a tray of used wine glasses.
“I saw her going into the guest room where the souvenirs were kept,” Awo told her.
“Thank you.”
Korkor walked down the hallway towards the room in question. She found the door slightly ajar and caught a glimpse of Dzifa sitting on one of the double sofas. Korkor inhaled deeply and ensured that her game face was on. However, when she stepped closer, she saw that Dzifa was not alone. Her mother was sitting on the seat next to her. Korkor was about to enter the room to inform her friend that her suitcase was ready for her journey, but she abruptly stopped when she heard what Auntie Gifty, Dzifa’s mother, was saying.
“My dear, as I was saying, you know that we are thrilled for you. We’re thankful that you got the kind of man you’ve always wanted, and you’re going to start a new life together. But bear in mind that this new life does not erase the one you had before. Being a wife now does not cancel all the other identities you already have. You are still a friend, a sister, and a daughter. Most importantly, you’re still Dzifa Tamakloe. Before marriage, you were your own person. After marriage, you’re going to be part of a couple now, but within your couple, each of you is still your own person, marriage or not. Love your husband, respect him, and take care of him as he will you, but do not make marriage your whole personality. Do not let it erase who you were before you got married. Every relationship is supposed to enrich you in one way or another and make you better. Let marriage enhance you, not take over you. Don’t ignore your friends now because you are married. You may not have as much time to spend with them as you did before, but make time for them too.”
“Yes, Mom,” Dzifa replied with a small smile on her face.
“Enjoy your new home with your partner, but remember that this place will always be your home too, and you have a lifetime place here. We will always be your family, and we will always be here for you.”
“Your mother is right,” her dad, Mr. Tamakloe, added, coming into Korkor’s sight of view. He had been out of view from her position, but now Korkor watched as he took the seat on the other side of his daughter and continued.
“We raised you well, Dzifa. We know you will be a good wife because we raised you as a good person and taught you how to love and be loved. We showed you how to be considerate, tolerant, loyal, respectful, and loving. Nonetheless, we did not teach you to be timid or to suffer in silence. We taught you to stand up for yourself—to be assertive and bold, and to communicate your likes and dislikes clearly. Joe is not perfect, and neither are you. As much as you will make each other happy, you’re also going to annoy and offend each other occasionally. However, as long as there is mutual respect, consideration for each other’s feelings, and effective communication, you will be fine.”
Korkor continued to listen as Auntie Gifty continued from there. “Your husband is not a mind reader, my dear. Talk to him if something bothers you. Tell him when he does right and when he does wrong. Make allowances for him as he will for you. When you wrong him, apologise and do better, and make sure he does the same in return. Don’t treat him in a way you wouldn’t like to be treated, and don’t accept mistreatment either. We raised a loving woman, but we did not raise a doormat, so do not make yourself one for marriage. No marriage, no matter how beautiful it begins, is worth losing yourself if things change. You know that we have already informed him and his family that we do not tolerate abusers in this family, and they understood the caution. I don’t expect him to be anyway, because he is such a sweet boy. However, if he ever raises his hand on you, don’t hesitate to tell somebody. It is easier to forgive and pretend it never happened if nobody else knows. Marriage is sacred, and many things should remain between a husband and a wife. However, you’re smart enough to know when you need to talk to someone. We would love for it to be us, but it doesn’t have to be. As long as you have someone you can talk to if you need it, that is enough for us.”
Korkor stood motionless, listening to what they were telling Dzifa. As the words washed over her, she couldn’t help but remember how different the parent talk had been when she got married two years ago.
“As you go to your husband’s house,” Korkor’s father had started, leaning forward intently, “do not go and disgrace your mother and me. Your husband has paid your bride price, and you now belong to him and his family. Do not give him any cause to be upset with you or tempted to turn you away. Be an obedient and respectful wife. Don’t let your degree make you think that you’re on the same level as your husband. He is the head of your household, and you must learn to revere him. A good wife is one who always pleases her husband. Do not let another woman do more for your husband than you do. If you find out that any woman has given him one bowl of soup, give him two. Make sure his belly is always full, and never turn him away from your bed, lest he find comfort in the arms of another woman.
Marriage is not easy. Whatever the problem in your marriage is, there is worse outside. Women of today don’t like to endure the challenges that come with marriage. They think their degrees make them equal to men. We did not raise you with that kind of foolish mentality. Humble yourself and do everything possible to stay in your marriage. If you misbehave and your husband sacks you, nobody will accommodate you. Have you heard?”
“Yes, yes, Papa, I have heard,” I had answered, a tiny lump in my throat. I was thrilled to be getting married, but being so thoroughly handed over to someone I had known for a few years by the family I had known all my life did not feel good. And although they had tried to instill submissiveness in me, there were a few rebellious ideologies I agreed with. However, I knew better than to express them openly.
“And be careful of jealous friends,” my mother had added. “Don’t let your female friends—especially the unmarried ones—be on casual terms with your husband. Don’t let them visit your house to find your weak points so that they can swoop in. They are the ones that will snatch your husband and ruin your marriage. You are a married woman now. Limit the number of unmarried friends around you. Your statuses are not the same anymore. Don’t talk to anybody about what goes on in your house either. The only person you should take advice from is your husband. Nobody else knows better.”
Those words had resonated deeply in my mind during the early stages of my marriage. Between them and my husband’s domineering attitude, I soon lost all my friends and made my husband my world. Before long, the sweet man I thought I had married disappeared, replaced by a tyrant who didn’t believe I should be anything except what he wanted. The only reason he had allowed my friendship with Dzifa and even encouraged it was because Dzifa was his boss’s daughter, and he thought the proximity would do him favours. Neither Dzifa nor her dad particularly liked my husband, but he was excellent at work, so they tried to hide it out of respect for me. I wondered then what their reactions would be if they knew how abusive he was behind closed doors.
I shook off the bitter memories of my husband and parents, bringing myself back to the present to listen as Dzifa’s parents continued to reassure her of her place with them. “Again, we want you to be happy with your husband, my darling. Marriage with the right person is so beautiful and sweet, despite the challenges. However, if for any reason you want to come home, even if for just an hour, you will always be welcome. You will always have keys to our home because you’re still a part of us. Do you understand what we are trying to tell you, my daughter?” Dzifa’s dad asked.
“Yes, Dad,” she answered, hugging each parent in turn.
From Korkor’s perch behind the door, she understood too. For the first time in her life, she clearly understood what people meant when they said someone was loved at home because she had just witnessed a perfect example.
The knot that had wound around her chest after the first announcement of Dzifa’s wedding began to unfurl, and Korkor finally understood what the problem had been. Marriage had been a huge mistake for her, and she had been afraid for her friend too. But now she knew that Dzifa would be fine. Unlike her, Dzifa was loved at home, and if anything went wrong, she wouldn’t be stuck in a never-ending cycle of pain and fear. Dzifa had a warm cushion to land on if she was ever thrown out of the bubble of love and security marriage promises. Her light wouldn’t be dimmed because of marriage.
That profound realisation left her light in relief, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her.
When she was certain the talk was over, Korkor pushed the door further open to join her friend and her parents. Her smile this time was genuine and heartfelt. Korkor had caught a glimpse of what it meant to be loved at home, and even though she didn’t have that for herself, she was glad her friend did.
And later, when she lay down in bed beside her snoring husband, Korkor remembered how Dzifa’s parents had been with her, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had always seen the affection between the Tamakloes, but that moment had hit her the most. She vowed to ensure that her children would have what she didn’t. She knew that she couldn’t give her children love with a man who had none. It was then that she found a little courage, and for the first time she thought about ending her marriage. The idea was daunting, but she knew that to break the cycle of no love at home, she would need a partner she could create that with.
Korkor had finally seen what it meant to be loved at home, and it gave her the strength to break the shackles the lack of it had locked on her.
