Marie Abanga

I am every woman! I am that woman who was battered and left tattered but not shattered! I am that woman who refuses to sit down and take notes from life's harsh lessons but who learns walking. I am that ex wife, yet a happy mother, daughter, sister, friend to many and lover to a gentleman by big luck!

photo credit: Sad via photopin (license)

What Leaving my Kids Meant and Did to Me!

Parental Alienation
Marie Abanga

I don’t know how many women leave a marriage and leave their children behind. I still don’t know how many openly talk about it to help and heal more.

I remember a comment Soila once made probably on a previous post of mine when she said she didn’t know many women would chose to leave their kids in that same ‘jail’ they were escaping from.

What I would admit even before proceeding, is the fact that guilt has a lot to do with ‘our shutting up’.

You see, society had long considered it more probable and even acceptable that the man should be the one leaving when a marriage sinks irretrievably. It was also and still is more probable and acceptable that the woman stays with the kids or in the ‘extreme or abnormal of divorces’, she leaves with her kids.

Well, a lot about me is unconventional and that is a whole book to be published soon.

Now, if I had money, if I knew what next, if I knew where next, or if I had a who next, I would have left with those I fondly call “The Real Men in my Life.”

But, I did not want to take all three back to my Mother’s. The eldest one, the one I brought to that marriage, could return to my mother’s but the other two were better off in the ‘jail’  I was escaping from.

It wasn’t a jail for them and to fast forward a bit, he even takes them on vacations now and buys them christmas gifts.

As I planned my escape, I talked with my men (in spite of their tender ages of 7, 5 and  2 as of when I left them in 2011), and painfully and tearfully explained to them what was at stake.

Yes it was and still is not easy. We miss each other so much, cry sometimes, laugh other times, write each other poems, emails, draw pictures and talk on the phone like once a week.

I still remember that famous May 26th when I packed them off to my Mother’s with letters already sealed for my parents and my ex.

leaving my kids
Drawing from one of my sons after leaving my kids.

I wanted them to go stay there a while before their father came to collect his own because I wasn’t sure how often he would let even my mother see them once he knew I had ‘vanished’.

If he had been there when I sent them off, he would have noticed something was wrong. He would have noticed how many things I sent them off with and how many times I hugged each of them and took pictures.

Now, making and taking the decision to leave my kids behind, is to me the ultimate sacrifice.  I have lost two other children but I got over those loses pretty quick. I had my first, lost a second, had a third, lost a fourth, then had a fifth so in between each lose there was ‘a spare and a quick, so to say, replacement’ that followed.

Therefore, you would understand that leaving my kids behind meant I was leaving my all behind. It took me six months to finally go after I had spoken with them. It took me eight months to even get to speak with them thereafter because their father wouldn’t let me speak to them nor let anyone give me their house number and all.

I would had no one to turn to and got no support from my family then because to them I was ‘literally lost in mind and body’.

Leaving my kids meant I was now on my own and for a moment, I believed that I could live just for me.

But no, leaving my kids, jolted me to further action.

Simply put, as Les Brown my primo motivational speaker puts it, I became ‘Armed and Dangerous’. I spared no opportunity I could to get out there and do better.  I dared to get those jobs I so wanted no matter what.

Leaving my kids behind did so much for me in the sense that it tried my pain and hurt to the max. The tears in my eyes pushed me to maturity but eventually that well ran dry.  It forced me loose any extra kilos left from my previous 115 kg self. Above all, as from that day, I stopped even thinking of ill health. A former patient like myself, who had already sort of abandoned the drives to the hospital, became one very healthy woman.

When I think of my kids, I know I don’t have any lame excuse to give not to sleep just four hours a day if that’s what it takes. When I think of my kids, which is 24/7 and all the seconds in there, I can go without food just so that one day they can come over and live with me and have the life l would have loved to have as a teen.

Yes, all I have now are the mails, some lucky skype calls with the one at my mother’s when she’s home like this morning or some poorly connected phone conversations when the weather is at its best either here or over there.

For the other other two, who remained with their father,  it’s been two weeks since we spoke. I heard this morning that ‘David my Shephard’ (one of my children) was sick but that it wasn’t serious. Even if it were, what can I do?

I miss their events and I’m sure you can list all else that I’m missing. Hey, I am even sure some will be judging me good bad or ugly and wishing they could…

Afterall, I have been called a witch back home and at some point their dad told them I  was dead.

I once read a blog where another woman tried to explain why she left her children and I was amazed at how many judges were in the single courtroom for a case they all knew nothing about.

Well, one other thing leaving my kids behind did to me, was to enforce this ‘spirit’ I have in me of ‘doing my thing’.

I am soon publishing my memoir and it was just approved by CreateSpace this morning.

That book thrills even me because it is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I keep saying I hope it helps and heals more than it hurts.

As for me, I probably left behind guilt, shame, self pity and that feeling of wanting to be ‘conventional’ or tow along in life, when I left my Kids behind.

Dear Reader of The Divorce Magazine, do you have similar experiences, comments or remarks you may want to share?

Marie Abanga

Twitter: @marieA2013

Feature photo credit: Sad via photopin (license)

divorced and happy
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Divorced and Happy!

Divorced and Happy www.thedivorcemagazine.co.uk
Marie Abanga

It is so scary to finally get to that point when you so want a divorce!

That was me and I finally got one when l recently returned to Cameroon my country and place of birth.

Synopsis

I used marriage as a refuge from my mother’s house.  I was running away from a home where I felt so out of place as I rightly or wrongly assumed I wasn’t welcomed.

But, I also wanted to be married hoping the new status as a Mrs X, will shield me from my self harm and provide me some sort of ‘one in all social and emotional package’ that I longed for.

The foundation of my marriage was already damaged and so was the marriage itself.  The abuse started soon after and before long,  it became clear that the Marriage I had ran to, was now threatening to devour me and at some point I remember spending several days and weeks contemplating suicide.  I needed to escape…again.

This time, my route out of my unhappiness consisted of having one affair after another seeking validation and attention from others.  Needless to say that this behaviour only made me feel worse each time but it also led me to realise that if I were to save myself, I would need to leave my marriage.

I knew how divorce was viewed by those around me and I knew that I risked being labelled as one of those women who allowed her marriage to fail, who was unable to hold on to her man.  But I also knew that that was what I needed if I were to survive.

The Divorce Process

Obtaining a divorce isn’t the easiest of processes and it’s not just about whatever is written on paper declaring that a marriage has been terminated.

For me, the divorce was getting ready to let go of six years of my Life, owning up to my mess, and being ready to start off again but most importantly and making the very difficult decision to leave my children behind.

At first my now ex-husband and I wanted to go ahead with the divorce procedure after 7 months of living apart.  I thought I was ready but he wasn’t and he made it clear that he would make my life hell.  I knew I wasn’t strong enough to go test his threats so I left him to take his time and make up his mind when he would need the divorce too.

It took a whole year, or thereabouts, before he was ready. He informed me on the eve of filing the papers and I being a lawyer, advised him on the most effective procedure, guaranteeing I would not make any claims other than the right to see my Children whenever I came home. I never sought any financial support.

Once filed, the procedure took barely 5 months. I did not make a court appearance nor was I represented by anyone. This was a deliberate choice and one made out of need to simplify procedure. A divorce by default is easier to obtain in my Country.

What took a long time in my case, was obtaining all the necessary papers for a final judgment to be established.

Realizing my ex had lost momentum in a procedure he initiated, I got in touch with his lawyer, a senior colleague I knew and had actually encouraged my ex to retain,  paid whatever fees he was reclaiming and I followed up the divorce I now so badly needed.

I finally got all the papers I needed to proceed to my change of status and today, I am finally divorced!

Although the memories will forever stay with me, for a long time coming, I really don’t feel bad about that period anymore.  Yes, my sons don’t live with me but I know their father loves them and is an even better dad now than when I was around.

Divorced and Happy!

Although I never got to meet my ex when I was recently in Cameroon, I really wasn’t bothered.

I called him a few times, I even brought him a gift which he acknowledged out of politeness. I don’t care if he decides not to keep it for whatever reason but there’s a part of me, my flesh and blood, which he would never consciously give up – our children.

He is very firm when he tells me they are HIS SONS. He even denied me contact on the eve of my departure even though I had had them alone for two weeks. No ill feelings though, no trauma, no painful emotions to address in that area. I am moving on and I know my well being is of utmost importance at the moment.

I am just glad I finally got divorced!

Marie Abanga – Follow Marie on Twitter

Author of My Unconventional Loves: My Hurts, My Adulteries, My Redemption

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Parental Alienation Stories

According to Wikipedia:

Parental alienation is a social dynamic when a child expresses unjustified hatred or unreasonably strong dislike of one parent, making access by the rejected parent difficult or impossible. These feelings may be influenced by negative comments by the other parent or grandparents, generally occurring due to divorce or separation

Parental Alienation  www.thedivorcemagazine.co.uk
Marie Abanga

The above definition makes my tale of parental alienation (at least in my own context), all the more interesting. My parents are divorced and, like a river that flows into an ocean, their divorce flew into the ocean of my life leading to my own divorce and ‘alienation’?

My personal parental alienation stories.

I was maybe 12/13 when my parents divorced but I had seen it coming despite their efforts in trying to hide their sustained disaccord.

When it happened, although I had heard of stories where mostly the Fathers alienated the Kids from their mothers, I did not expect my own father (who to me was a ‘refined’ man), to try keeping us away from our mum. It was simply terrible.

The more he made negative comments, corroborated by his ‘friends and family’, the more we longed for our mum.  I knew what he was trying to do and he did not care to see what it was actually doing to us.

Parental Alienation to me at the time simply meant daddy did not want us to see our mother. I was so hurt and I could understand why at some point my mother stopped trying to come by our house. It was so sad to see her insulted as she stood for hours in front of the gate while we were locked up in our rooms.

She wasn’t any danger to us, and I told my siblings we could not hate our mother no matter how our father tried. Yes, he got custody in court thanks to his money and power back at the time, and refused to respect the limited visitation rights accorded her.

Through sheer determination and continued demands from my siblings and I,  we eventually went to live with our mother again.  It was easier for my two sisters because the first was an adult and she just upped and left one day.  My kid sister was “saved” by ill health.   She was so unwell that the doctors advised she live with our mother. It is probably the trauma of that in between period and much more that followed that affects my brother and I so much that we each suffer from some form of ‘mental illness’ or the other.

My Self Alienation or what?

History would repeat itself in my own marriage.

brother and sister - parental alienation www.thedivorcemagazine.co.uk
Who, in the end, is the victim of parental alienation?

Yes, I think I was just as abused as my mother  and at first found solace in other men.

When after six years I couldn’t take it anymore, I made the decision to leave that marriage and my children behind. Just like my mother did, after all neither one of us had any resources when we left. I could thus say I alienated myself from my children, right?

But did that mean I didn’t want to be the mother to those boys again? Hell no!

Yet it wasn’t to easy and still isn’t. I remember staying for 8 good months without being able to talk to my sons because their father and his family wouldn’t let me. Even when I went to their home and tried, they had moved house and my family, who had kept some contact with them, would help me trace them.

Eventually I got to meet my boys.  I keep comparing this reunion to Princess Diana’s  with her boys aboard the royal Britannia. Indeed, the eldest told me some of the nasty things his dad and family were feeding them about me and he even told me he would still love his mum even if any of those things were true.

My ex-husband’s pursuit of parental alienation.

I think his sustained effort in alienating me from my children stems from some ego problem and the desire for  revenge or whatever.  I can only see my boys when my ex-husband allows it and since disconnecting the landline, I call only reach them via him or his sister and success will depend on their being at home and their mood in general.

Even though the marriage has been dissolved, and I have the right to see my boys during the holidays, as l wrote on a post on divorce and property my African reflections, nothing is done to a man who ignores any so called divorce order. It’s so funny and sad because I am not even in the same country as my kids but I’m going over this weekend and I still have not been able to get hold of their father so as to communicate my schedule. He doesn’t answer his calls and seems to have shut down his email and facebook accounts.

Who, in the end, is the victim of parental alienation?

I am thinking that except in cases of great danger to the child concerned because of the other parent’s addiction and all, the real victim of parental alienation is that same child who is brainwashed to dislike the other. I know the story of a child who was been brainwashed to dislike his mother and even beat her up, who suffered a nervous break down and ended up killing that same father of his.

Dear readers, as always, I share my reflections drawn from my experience and hope it enlightens, helps and dare I say heal someone somewhere?

Marie Abanga – Follow Marie on Twitter

Author of My Unconventional Loves: My Hurts, My Adulteries, My Redemption

Divorce and Property: My African Reflection

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

Divorce is a very difficult journey not in the least when it comes to living through and experiencing the dismantling of  a ‘joint venture’ that you spend time and effort creating.

What happens to the property of that ‘joint venture’ after the divorce?

Out here in the ‘West’, I think it is much easier to talk about divorce and property and to actually work out some sort of settlement or partition of that property.

My post of today is a combination of my story so far as divorce and property is concerned and some personal reflections as an African.

What is Property anyway?

To begin with, we mustn’t forget that in some traditional African societies, a woman was considered ‘property’.  I am even tempted from my experience, to say that is still very much the case in some cases today. Hey, even my own husband loved referring to me as his ‘bien’ (property).  The idea of  just trusting or letting me do my own thing was an unacceptable.

You will find at times that when there’s a divorce, the woman is often asked what right, if any, she has to claim any property after all she is never her own person; from birth she belongs to her father, guardian or husband. For instance, you will still find that in some African societies, a woman still needs her husband’s permission to open a bank account, travel out of the country, own land and/or property or make any type of investments. Where there’s a divorce, the husband will be the one to decide what happens to any money In the case of a divorce, what happens to the money in an account he authorised and may still have a say in how it is spent or handled?

 

Divorce and Property – My Personal Case

divorce and property joint accountOh, as for me, ‘shameless woman’, did it not suffice that l was that adulterous woman who eloped with another?

What property did I bring into the marriage? What property could I even talk of when I myself had been ‘paid for’ with the controversial ‘bride price’?

The situation as I saw best for me then, was to just leave hoping that all the investments l had made in there, will somehow pass on to my sons.

You see, obtaining a divorce in some parts of Africa is an uphill battle. Mine is still to be declared final after yes 2 years of legal parades. I did not want to make matters more complicated for me by making claim to any property. I simply would have lost both; both the freedom (to no longer bear his name just to state this) I longed for as well as the property l would have been claiming. l did make some investments in there, lots of items in that house are linked to me. Even investing in his business, and l mean financial investment, leave alone the joint account.

What I observed

l remember my parents ‘legal parades’ too.

l spoke on behalf of my siblings and l and despite being 14/15, l was very aware and could understand what was going on. The woman knows that she may not get any property if she makes a claim. Even with any justifications, the system is ‘masculine’. Even if a judgment was passed granting alimony or any partitioning, there was no redress should the man fail to abide by the judgment. If push came to shove, you could start another civil suit. That would be your choice and trouble and not the court’s or your husband’s.

The bride Price has to be refunded above all

Well, things may be simple if the woman and her family refund the bride price.  At least then she may be able to make claim on any property they acquired during their ‘joint venture’.

But, let look at it this way, how much was the bride price?

Back in the days, when a girl was born, the first man to stroll by and be interested in safeguarding her as a wife, started bringing gifts to her parents. He continued doing so and maybe also supporting her financially until it was time to ‘claim’ his wife.

The ‘bride price’, therefore, isn’t  just what he will pay on the day of the traditional marriage ceremony, no, it is all what he has spent on her and her family from the days of courting to the wedding day.

Divorce and Property

It is for the above reasons that I think talking about property and divorce in an African context is tricky. There is a lot at stake not to talk of the man’s ego. I sadly recently learnt of a man who took away both his wife and his life, because she threatened to leave him. In my humble reflections, divorce in some parts of Africa is still a very very painful journey. I may have just been one of the lucky few who made it out alive and has the guts to share her story!

Marie Abanga – Follow Marie on Twitter

Author of My Unconventional Loves: My Hurts, My Adulteries, My Redemption

Parental Alienation
Marie Abanga

Ignoring the ‘Little’ Signs of Domestic Abuse!

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

In a typical African setting, we would hardly ever hear of domestic abuse. Frankly, I never thought I was being abused until my health started to deteriorate.

When Soila told me the theme of the week on the Divorce Magazine, I knew I had to write an article on this ‘semi-taboo’ topic. It is still a kinda hushed topic because of all the emotions, hurt, shame and you name the rest that come with the abuse.

To make matters worse, sometimes, the abused spouse doesn’t even know what to do or whom to turn to. The spouse cannot leave or doesn’t want to because we may think and hope the situation changes. In my case also, I thought of my kids and what people will say.

Soila once shared a you tube clip of a ted talk on why a spouse (In this case and as often, the woman), stayed although she was grossly abused.

Another contributor also wrote an article on ending the paralysis of shame in abuse cases and yet another on the early signs of domestic abuse.

I will therefore, and as usual, share my own story with abuse and how I ignored what started out as ‘little’ abuse to culminate in some physical abuse and outright violation of my body and our bedroom.

It started out as a ‘cold war’ 

We may think of the historic cold war and yes that started out over some incident and then carried on and manifested itself in different ways, causing ‘stress’ to the parties.

In my case, I wanted for us to talk and my ex husband didn’t want any ‘communication’. It hurt me terribly that the man I had ‘gotten’ to marry me, couldn’t even talk with me. It tormented me when he would receive an excellent grade at pretending in front of guests and family that we were doing just fine.

Today, I see those episodes as mental abuse. I must admit we ended up abusing each other because I gave up trying to talk and in retaliation refused to speak with him in public although he would have preferred that I ‘fake along’!

The Verbal Abuse Starts

Imagine those heated discussions in the bedrooms between two people who can’t stand each other but don’t know what next?

I think my husband felt hurt too at my behaviour during our “Cold War” and so wanted to show me who he really was. He threatened to beat me up and insulted me over and again especially saying how fat and ugly I had become and how little I brought in as income and much more. Of course I responded too and told him all the nasty things which hurt a man’s ego. What could I do? Who could I turn to? Our relationship was already deep in crisis then but society demands of a woman to bear all that at least for the children’s sake.

When the physical abuse started and I had to do something

As if that was not enough, my ex husband decided to give me a beating one day. I almost lost an eye!  Could I retaliate? Hell no!

Did I tell my mother? Oh Yes and what did she say – oh don’t get him angry again!

Early Signs of Domestic Abuse

When the abuse gets physical, there is no turning back. He has done it once, he will probably do it again and again unless…

I remember one episode as recounted in my book, when I locked the door of the room and hid the key with the hope of forcing my ex husband to have a conversation. He first gave me a sound slap, then he broke the door, then he kicked and pulled me out with my hair and throwing me away in the sitting room, screaming he no longer wanted to see me in our bedroom.

Unfortunately, my sons witnessed all this.  They were the ones that got him to let go off my hair.

That room stayed without a door for three good months although I slept in there.

When such incidents happens and your spouse still demands sexual intercourse and forcefully gets onto you, I wonder what more we have to undergo before we save ourselves?

In Europe, there are several helplines and shelters but if every domestic abuse incident was ever to be reported, these shelters and helplines would definitely be overwhelmed.   Still, I sincerely think it is vital for the victim to attend to that very first abusive incident and not ignore it wishing it won’t happen again.

By the time I took the decision that I was leaving that marriage, we had already sufficiently abused each other, I had been violated, I had become so filthy within and without, I think I was more angry at my self than at anybody else.

It took courage and determination. I knew the rejection I was going to face for leaving and eventually telling my story. Yet I am healing and getting much better and so can we all.

Marie Abanga – Follow Marie on Twitter

Author of My Unconventional Loves: My Hurts, My Adulteries, My Redemption

 

thriving after divorce
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Thriving after Divorce – not just Surviving

Parental Alienation
Marie Abanga

It’s been a little while since my last article for The Divorce Magazine.

I was quite unwell and a couple of times where I found myself wondering how I would like to be remembered when I’m no longer here.

Would l want to be remembered as that woman who got married because all she was looking for was a refuge?  No, not just that.

What about as the woman who ‘fled’ her marriage leaving her kids behind?  There was certainly more to it than that.

Then it dawned on me that I had survived divorce but when I looked up the definition of “survive” in the Webster Dictionary, I wasn’t satisfied:

“to live beyond the life or existence of; to live longer than; to outlive; to outlast; as, to survive a person or an event.”

Then a better word came to mind, Thrive. This I think is better than survive right?

Thrive: to prosper in any business; to have increase or success.

Yep, I found it!

I am thriving after divorce and succeeding in my new business of moving past my divorce. I don’t know about you but I believe that usually after a divorce we think it’s all finished, to say the least.

How do I know I’m thriving and not just surviving?

Firstly: I left my CountryI needed to do this. It was too much to bear.

thriving after divorce
Dubai was my escape destination.

I couldn’t stay there and not be able to keep my sons because I didn’t have a home of my own, a steady income, any support, not even the will to engage in those fierce legal battles which often follow a divorce.

Worst of all, I was the one who abandoned the marriage.  

I escaped to Dubai, but just couldn’t survive out there and had to return home a bigger ‘loser’ than when I had left.   My next move was to Tanzania where I lived and worked for one year.   When my contract ended, I returned home to a ‘what next?’.  My next and final move was to Brussels in January 2013.  

 

Secondly: I met my Darling Darling: Yes, life goes on after a divorce.

At some point I felt ready to embark on another soul journey in search of a soul mate. After a divorce,we can be truly fragile regardless of what we portray to others.  Well, I speak for myself.

After I left, I dated a series of men and even went out to meet one in Dubai even though I knew he wasn’t going to be my ‘special’ and hopefully ‘final’ one.

thriving after divorce
…when I landed and settled down in Brussels, I set out to look for a soul mate.

In Tanzania, l flirted with a 50 year old divorced father of four and an Indian Moslem of 65 (who told me he had a youthful spirit in spite of his age) but I couldn’t go there, not even for the fun of it!  I was however glad to meet him, share a flat with him and cook for him as long as he paid for my services with cash.

My next and final move was to Brussels in January 2013 and  when settled down, I set out to look for a soul mate.

No ‘real’ body however spoke to me on the streets or wherever and I was almost giving up. So I turned to dating sites. I dared and tried signing up to a couple but couldn’t pay the fees.  I gave it one more go and  got two interests. I threw my ‘dice’ and picked the one who is today my DD; Well, we both did the picking and recently celebrated our first anniversary. After all, who says the likes of ‘us’ do not deserve some ‘real’ love?

Thirdly: I wrote my book 

I wrote and self published my book. This is a big feat for me and it was , hmm, therapeutic! It even got my ex and I to finally get to start talking again in depth.  

I’m so happy with myself and my DD  for all his love and support.  I had to and still do have to overcome several obstacles within and without my family, community, society but I continue to THRIVE!

I will be going home in June to see my boys.  I am moving on even though my emotions and wellbeing continue to be affected by a mix of things but optimism than anything. I have taken great leaps and bounds.

I sincerely think it is up to us to choose if we, after a divorce, will only Survive or  THRIVE!

Marie Abanga – Follow Marie on Twitter

Author of My Unconventional Loves: My Hurts, My Adulteries, My Redemption

can you be friends with your ex

The Conversations my Ex and I never had – until Recently!

My journey with the noble divorce magazine has so far been as liberating as the publishing of my book has been!

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

You’re probably wondering what next right?

I do enjoy sharing my divorce related stuffs with you all and what happened in the most ‘darkest’ of avenues, and all!

I wanted to share with you a few conversations I recently had with my ex husband, which l wish we had had then. But that’s life!

A quick re-cap?

Hm, I got married for all the wrong reasons and love wasn’t one of them.  All I was looking for was a refuge!

He wasn’t kind to me but I too, did a lot of damage.  I was an adulterous wife,  a ‘shameful and disgraceful” trophy to own but one that needs to be spoken about.

Now to this post.

My ex-husband was an abusive man. He barely ‘discussed’ anything with me. We were not partners, best friends, lovers or anything. Oh no, we were like ‘Master and Servant’. He barked orders and instructions. He was not physically abusive but he was mentally.  He knew I loved conversations and he chose to withhold those from me.

When we were with friends or family, we would converse as a group and even with each other.  Yet, when it was just the two of us, there was no communication.  No discussion.  No conversation.

And so it was for the six years we were married – minimum conversations with my ex.

We started off by barely spending time alone either always on the go or there were other people around whenever he was home. Either side of the family often paid us announced or unannounced visits.  Friends, mostly his, did the same and often stayed on till I went to bed.

thumb in hand
I gave birth to our second son and he came to see our baby more than six hours after

I will never forget the day I gave birth to our second son and he came to see our baby more than six hours after I had called him to say I had given birth. When he finally turned up, he was with friends, which was fine, but when they finally decided to leave, my ex-husband said he was going to see them off and only returned around 11 pm. I was distraught.

The next day, it was my cousin and my first son who came to pick me from the hospital.  We had to hire a cab because my ex had gone on a trip.

Anyway, by that time, I had made up my mind to leave the marriage and was just thinking of what to do with my sons.

We never discussed as normal couples would, what to do about the kids’ education, or whatever. No.  We never had Christmas trees nor gifts unless I bought them. We just fought. Simple!

I remember trying to tell him I was fed up and that I was cheating on him.  All I received from him was a good slap and claims that I was possessed. I guess he didn’t care since he was probably also having some extra marital liaisons too. Buy that’s his story to tell if he wishes.

I arranged for us to go for counselling but only survived the first session. We tried family mediation but this didn’t work either.  Only his family and my father were present.  My mother did not attend nor did she care to listen to me.

Then one day, I left. That almost ruined his ego and status he had built for himself as a good son-in-law, husband, father and all!  He refused to talk to me nor let me have any contact my sons for 8 months. I had left them because I couldn’t take them, not having any real source of income.

It has taken two and a half years for us to truly start talking to each.

conversations with my ex
It has taken two and a half years for us to truly start talking to each.

He did the asking this time around by sending me a Facebook request which I accepted. We started chatting first about the kids and their Christmas and vacations and then about ‘what happened’. I am past any reconciliation or moving back together drama but I am happy to talk to and with him.

One good conversation we had, was about why he had behaved the way he had as a husband. He told me that is what he learnt from his father. His parents are still together though so maybe his mother was more submissive than I was?

Another time we talked about my infidelity.  I told him I needed that consolation and warmth and was sorry to have done it.

Recently we spoke about coping, facing reality and moving on. We discussed the impact of our relationship on our health, life and children and at the end of that conversation, I wished him well.

I will visit my kids in June and will probably have a drink or coffee with him.  Such is life.

Dear readers, I have come to understand, at least somewhat, how people who couldn’t stand each other as couples, could someday become best friends.

We are far from there, but it is much more civilised now than ever and this to me is also part of divorce, Adversity and Growth.  A lot of emotions are always and will always be involved, yet for our own well being, we must move forward.

Marie Abanga

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Break-up

The Adulterous Woman

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

Going by the stories I have shared with you so far, you will see that my life has so far been pretty unconventional.

I am that woman who wanted to be married no matter what rather than be single and I paid for this by ending up in a marriage that was to become my jail.

I then took that ‘awful’ decision to end it, leaving behind my very own flesh and blood.

Today, I will share with you yet, another portion of my thriller of a marriage which led to a divorce.

Often times, we hear of men who cheat on their wives but rarely the other way round.  Maybe, women who cheat, don’t wish to share their stories?

I will tell you my story  in the hope that people will understand what happens when one partner withdraws emotionally.  I was that partner.  After two years of marriage, everything looked ‘good’ on the outside and yet in the ‘bedroom’ there was nothing going on anymore because I had had enough of the treatment that I was getting so I decided to do what was “good” for me then.

I cheated on my husband and found ‘temporary’ consolation in the arms of others.

the adulterous womanThe first of such men was a restaurant owner.  I often frequented this restaurant alone and before long he noticed me and started offering me ‘free’ lunches.  We would talk for ages and eventually one thing led to another.  Had I known that was just the beginning of my adulterous lifestyle, I would have told my husband and I don’t know what else.

But that I never did and soon found myself with yet another man. It was a one night stand while at a conference but again another step towards my next affair and the next and the next.

Then one day, I finally I met the man who was to get me to leave the sham of a marriage altogether. This one was a street “Child”.  He was eight years younger than I was and had nothing in his resume other than that he started living on the streets at the age of fourteen and dreamed of being a professional basketball player.

He was my “Treasure”. I won’t tell you anymore here and although that relationship is long over, that was the one time in my sad life back then, that I truly felt my life ‘spring’ up again.  What made this relationship very special to me? It was unusual and most unconventional. It was a disgraceful one AT most.

the adulterous womanIt was not until I left the country and wrote letters to those left behind did they begin to see and understand what was going on in my sad “marriage” and that those affairs did eventually help me leave.

I had tried to save my marriage in the early stages of my infidelity but to no avail. l remember begging my ex-husband we go for marriage counselling, but we never made it past the first session.

I was stuck. I was ashamed. What a Mess. What a disgrace, What a bad woman and mother.  As for Wife, I wasn’t anymore except for the legal aspects of whatever remained, I was worse than ‘Mary Magdalene’ in the Bible!

My mother did not believe me when I told her of my adulteries. She was scandalised when I mentioned that one of my partners in crime was a priest.  She preferred to believe that I was delusional, sick, depressed, possessed by some evil spirit to say the least.

I became my own mirror, my own judge and condemned myself to suicide. I however could not drive the knife through because of my sons. So I took the only other option available, and that was leave the country. I left everything behind and decided when I got better to tell the whole truth.

Yes, Divorces happen for all kinds of reasons and in my case, my unhappiness caused me to lead a life as a cheater until it became too messy to stay ‘married’.

Of course, I have since then moved forward and my mess is henceforth my Message as narrated in my book. Divorce is a painful journey but this too shall come to pass!

Marie Abanga

And one Divorce Led to the Other!

Well, I should start by stating some facts right? Ok, the both divorces weren’t mine per se but that of my parents and then my own. Could we talk of Family History?

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

I read with interest the article by JungleDiva right here on the Divorce Magazine where she highlighted her uncle’s premonition about her own marriage.

Yet, I also know it is not an established fact that kids from divorced homes will end up down that same tunnel especially if they marry for the right reasons I suppose.

As for me, the stakes were pretty high that I will take that same path.

I got married actually because I was trying to run away from a similar path. Marriage was my Refuge, turned jail in which I all over again left even younger kids than when we were left too.

Now, a little history right?

My Parents divorced when I was thirteen or so. I am the second of four siblings but the one all considered the ‘toughest’. They still call me to date ‘L’homme de situation difficile‘ (The man of tough times if I could translate it such).

I took charge soon after our mother left. I skipped the wall at my father’s to go fetch us food and all when our step mother denied that we touch her anything. I also jumped that same high fence to bring my mother some stuffs she left behind and needed. I did this because my dad locked the gate with a key on leaving for work and his wife kept it locked!

I had known from my tender age that all was not right and it hurt me who was considered a favourite of my dad’s. My mother often taught me some good lessons with the whip or her shoe. I was a revolt.

I testified in court at their divorce and none of my siblings had the courage to do so, hence I spoke on our behalf.

Simply put, I grew up my own way, out on the streets or in boarding school, wherever but home.

That was why I wanted so badly to have my own home. There was a problem however, I already had a son and so I wasn’t according to the African Tradition, a worthy woman anymore. Marriage was going to be hard to come by.

I thought I could force one into being and keep it up.

Don’t ask me where I learnt about marriage. Don’t ask me either where I learnt about Love. Still do not ask me what I intended to do to stay married or avoid a divorce at all cost.

So, it came to be that I knew barely nothing about marriage. It came to pass that I knew little or nothing about love. And the inevitable came to happen that my ‘sham of a marriage’ collapsed at even a faster rate than had my parents before mine.

Wow, was that some curse? Was that something to do with my childhood? Was it some mistake on my part?

As for a curse, I don’t believe in those, don’t care to and don’t want to think of that possibility.

one Divorce Led to the Other
Are there any statistics to link kids of divorce homes to their own divorces?

As for my childhood, I definitely think it had a lot to do and Soila published a very interesting article on the adverse effect of Divorce on Kids.

As for mistakes on my part, definitely. There are many. I did not Marry out of Love, I badly loved to get Married and out of what I considered then a jungle.

Secondly, I did not Trust the man I married, well eventually because I started out trusting him until he indicated by his actions that I was wasting my trust.

Finally and yes the big wreck, came via a string of adulteries which pushed me to suicide’s door and then out of the country all together. My tale of Unconventional Loves is published as of this very day and is on the amazon.

I tell my stories of course just mine and I share them to heal and help further.

I really do not know if there is any statistics to link kids of divorce homes to their own divorces should they get married.

I don’t even know if I would ever get married again at this rate.

I am scared about my own boys marriages should they get married too.

What do I do now? What do I teach them? From where do I start or how do I proceed given that I have only social network routes to them for the moment?

Sincerely, I would appreciate your comments, advise and resources.

Marie Abanga

trust

Trust – Learning to Give Each Other a Little Space!

Some may wonder if a couple who say they want to become ‘one’, and want to share everything henceforth, should turn around again and give each other a little space right?

Marie Abanga
Marie Abanga

Others like myself, who got married to that kind of a man with the sort of  ‘mentality’ that his ‘wife’ is his ‘property’, know what it means to live under the terror of coming back a minute late from the ‘official’ places your were sort of ‘given permission’ to go.

My ex husband used to say and I quote: ‘tu es mon bien’ meaning I was his property. He said this jokingly in public but discussed it menacingly in the confines of the ‘bedroom’ for after all, had I not literally begged him to marry me?

I don’t remember ever using such language on him or trying to put an eye on his movements and dealings because I expected him to be deserving of my trust. Hm, he abused that trust and stopped being communicative about his movements and dealings. I remember noticing that his cell phones were very often switched off as from 6pm until whenever he returned home and his excuse used to be that the battery had died down on him.

He however expected me to trust him or tell him all I did or wherever I went to, and for what purpose, and for how long and all. I sometimes felt choked but I never knew hot to speak to him about it nor about any of my other issues , worries and fears.

Such attitudes are damaging right? Moreover, we would probably all agree that no matter what the bible or which ever dogma says, the basic concepts of any relationship, probably include Faith (trust), Hope and Love.

That was how I gradually started telling lies to claim a little space to myself. Unfortunately, I had to leave the country altogether and sure, I couldn’t take my 3 boys with me!

I would say I am going to a ‘Church’ retreat or that my  case (for I am a lawyer too)  is taking long to be tried  or that I was going to visit a client in prison or where ever.

TrustAll the above just hastened the collapse of our marriage and well, had there been some trust, Faith and  hope, I am very sure we could have talked things out !

Now, I fast forward to my current relationship:

Of all days but the 14th of February, My boyfriend trustfully leaves me to go spend the weekend with family in Paris.

Oh, how I appreciated that he didn’t want a minute by minute account of my doings and goings unless I offered to tell him, and which I lovingly did in our twice daily phone conversations.

By the time I had been gone for just a day, he had missed me so much that he, the rather reserved person, told me in a mail that : ” Have a great evening, my little Valentine.”

This isn’t the first time he is letting me go places on my own for a few days or do anything I want to do and he trusts me to do so for the benefit of us and our relationship.

There was also a period last summer where I had to trustfully let him go on vacation to Greece for  three good weeks. It was a tough and trying period for both of us and for our relationship but I bet that period did us both so much good and we couldn’t wait to be together again.

What I am therefore daring to suggest is that, sometimes, we have to trust the other enough to let them have a little space. The dividends are often real big for the relationship and the love and friendship more often than not renewed.

Moreover, I think we are spared unnecessary stress and heart aches, although I am equally conscious of cases including mine where the trust the other put in the other partner was grossly abused.

Yet, it is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. Oh, it is better to have trusted and failed than not to have trusted at all. Better still, it is better to have tried and dared than not to have tried and failed!

Do you think trust and giving the other a little space every now and then isn’t worth it anymore?

 

love is still in the air

Love is still in the air – yes even for ‘us’!

I think you should be wondering why the emphasis right? Who are the ‘us’ I am referring to?

My marriage
Maria Abanga

Ok, I am part of the ‘us’, us as in Divorced, separated and all the like.

You see, when we take that kind of hit, the kind which only those of ‘us’ who have taken it can feel the nerves, we may not want to breathe or even mention that word L again.

Let me rewind my story a little. My first article with the noble Divorce Magazine was on Marriage my Refuge which you could refresh on right here. Now, you would be thinking that I am probably still feeling those nerves of hurt, hate, shame, pity, and just add those kind of adjectives usually used on or for ‘us’.

So, now I fast forward to present day and that is exactly 2 years,9 months and 2 days since I left that marriage to join the ranks of the ‘us’.

I remember falling on this quote by the diva Oprah Winfrey as shared on her twitter page of Oprah World and on a Facebook page for women who can change the world:

“I want a man who loves me as I am, but somehow still inspires me to be a better person.”

I thought to myself, instead or hanging around any much longer in the miserable club of the like of ‘us’, why not reach out try to find a gentleman.

I had also come across this befitting quote of a gentleman and so of course I was dreaming to ha – maybe at last – find one!

After all, does missing the first, second or third and even further times mean we are doomed? That we will forever be bartenders in the ‘us’ club? Isn’t Love in the same air and sky above and around us all and why not even in us all living?

Hence, I took action. Enough was enough. I had changed countries, I had ‘lost everything’, I had left my sons (my all) behind, I was determined to move forward. Yes I need to feel and breathe from that same air and no longer with melancholy linger at the ‘us’ club. I didn’t think I deserved to be left out of any more Valentine day celebration because, it was only one day a year and there wasn’t another day for the likes of ‘us’ .

love is still in the airI subscribed to a dating site, for as you all surely know, out here in europe and probably in the USA and all, people don’t just talk to one another on the streets like we do a little bit more back home. Moreover, it seems once you start hanging around the ‘us’ club, you get some invisible ‘mark of the beast’ which sort of repels – if you see what I mean!

But, on those sites, you can write and say as much as you want, and tread as slowly or quickly as you can, and feel any way you do. There are many ‘us likes’ there too and so you just type in search criteria like you were looking for the latest ‘I gadget’ – you know the ipods, ipads, i-shoulders and all right?

So I say, I am looking for a man with a ‘story’, a man who wouldn’t mind my ‘story’ and a man who is willing for us to try moving on together.

Yes, I wanted to find and meet that kind of man Oprah was talking about. I wanted to find and meet that king of gentleman the quote I had come across talked about. I wanted to find and meet a man who would proof read my book and still love me so.

And here is what I found. Oh it wasn’t easy right. Let me not make it sound so sweet but hey Val’s day is tomorrow.

I found a man yes who had also just joined the ‘us’ club (his wife left him like five months ago) but who was so scared of suffocating in there that he wanted out!

I found a man who was still so fragile but who was determined to become a gentleman all over. Gosh, I even met a white man and for me that was a feat because I had never even dated one before and I used to toy at the idea of meeting some romantic french guy.

Love is in the airThis in a few words is my tribute to this man whom I have fondly call my Darling Darling:

“You may wonder if I am not repeating a word here, but yes I am and on purpose. You see, when we met, I told him I will call him my Darling Darling and my Super Super Hero because I had hitherto called so many darling that he deserved the twinning.

So, to those still lingering in that club, in the ‘us’ club where I used to serve the tables and got paid in tears and pain, it is in your power to decide you have over stayed your welcome.

You could decide that you will breathe the same air all others breathe. You could decide, you will still use the L word and even if it doesn’t get past your lips, it could linger in your heart until the time is right. You know, the L word has a twin meaning for ‘us’ (hm tricky for I since left the club haha), it means Love and Live or the other way round if you prefer.

Should you continue to deprive yourself so much and waste away so bad and be full of reprieve at yourself or towards the other ‘us’ member of your former household? Did you see your name on the label of that bottle of gin you wouldn’t leave alone or on that joint you desperately crave for? Why can’t you shut out those thoughts of suicide, revenge and much more which are commonly and maybe openly discussed at the ‘us’ club?

Well, as for me, I did just that and yes I left the club. Decided I wanted to keep the L word in my vocabulary after all and look what I found. I mean no kidding but my DD got me my first smart phone, a kindle and so much more. He introduced me to his warm family and they adopted me and are spoiling me so good. I am happy and I really think I am much much better.

You see, I can even share my tales and mix the narratives with sour and sweet!

Marriage My Refuge

My marriage
Maria Abanga

I Know many would wonder at the awkwardness of such a title! Should Marriage be considered as a Refuge in any right thinking mind? Surely, I was out of my mind right?

Well, I think I am not the only one who at some point in her life preferred to be married at all cost than to stay single, and maybe with a child, and maybe still leaving at her mother’s, and maybe with no source of income, and maybe with her mind drifting towards hyper restlessness.

I was one of those someones and I share my story with you.

I had had a son in 2003 and that one is another story. Now, in Africa and Cameroon in particular, having a child out of wedlock is simply put, an abomination.

Next, I still lived at my mum’s, had no source of income although I had had a law degree and even a post graduate diploma. For a woman and probably for a man of my generation, still living at home when you are 25 and not having any source of income is frustrating. To crown it all, I didn’t get along with my mother of course among st other reasons because of that b…… I had given birth to and now burdened her with.

So, how else was I to leave without any income unless I asked someone to marry me or cornered someone to propose to me sooner than later?

As it happened, while travelling to another city for some petty business I was doing,  a guy who was to become my X, feigned interest in the products and took down my mobile number. 

He told me like many had done before him that he admired my courage and figure and whatever. I told him I wasn’t interested in playing around anymore, that I had a son and that I thought I should be settling down at my age.

My X told me he was also not looking to play around, he had a 3 months old son and had intended to marry his girlfriend, but his mother (his father towed along) wouldn’t hear about it, and the girl and her mum were alleged to be witches and he was sick of it all.

I was like okay, we both need to settle down, we each come from far, so why don’t we get married?

Terrible reasons to get married I now admit. But that was how it happened that I got Married because I was looking for a Refuge from ‘home’ and my broke state.

We got to start trying to know each other well after our marriage, which took place on the 18th of March 2005 in my village, and my father who was the Lord Mayor by then, celebrated it. Lord, what honour with dishonour I was bringing to my dad you alone could give him the grace thereafter and now.

I just wanted the whole marriage to take place so badly that I rejected all signals of incompatibility of personality and otherwise. Mr. X loved keeping late hours, he was disorganized, kept a lot of things to himself, could very well have been groomed at some point by my own father.

my marriageMy parents’ reservation revolved about his level of education, his apparent instability and my still dependent status; my mother remarked that I went to his mother’s too often before we got married, making it look like I was urging things, which in all honesty I was. Nobody ever inquired about the ‘love’ factor.

By my 26th birthday, I was pregnant and so by the time we got married I was 2.5 months pregnant. Hmm, even if I wanted to back out, what option did I really have? T

His mother also didn’t really like me after all. I didn’t want to go to the farm, I didn’t want to stay with her until her sisters and she officially accompany me to my husband’s, and I didn’t want to learn from her how to cook what she knew her son loved most.

Worst of all I was pressing for a small wedding after my family had ‘hijacked’ the administrative ceremony to our village where her all family couldn’t come.

We survived for six years, and by the time I was leaving, I had lost 2 children, had 2 others, had been physically, mentally and emotionally abused, had dirtied, hurt and almost killed myself, and at some point weighed 115 kgs.

I had done it all, and I always remembered how, when I wept bitterly at the loss of my daughter ‘Ange-Claire’ and asked my mother what I had not yet seen at my 30 years of existence, she said I had not yet seen anything. There was still much more I was going to see and go through, she said.

I could not blame any other person but myself and I was from the second year of that marriage, looking for yet some other refuge; this time around, a way out of there.

A gentle aunt of mine affirmed that marriage was supposed to be a 50-50% investment by both parties, but I dread calculating how much each of us actually put into the marriage. I can only speak on my behalf, and I think I put in something revolving around 30%.

It was crazy I never thought of the cute, loving, sincere friend stuff when marriage ‘hovered’; but even if I had, to what good would it have been, as if I were also still that cute and worthy and all.

All this said, you can easily imagine the woman I was when I got married and how further despicable of myself I felt when I left. To make matters worst, I left my sons behind (3) in total. It was and still is hard. I will be writing on this in subsequent posts

I know marriage is supposed to be out of love, but I hoped the love was going to grow as we did.

Yes, love is and should always be the foundation of any relationship.

Yet, if that love should fade out because it is not nurtured or diverted to other avenues or partners, then even the ‘refuge’ we think we can make out of marriages, become emotional jungles and jails.

Well, I am much better today than I was when I left in 2011, and I able to share my hurtful past and learn from others too. I have discovered several networks and bloggers since coming to Belgium and I know, that the current relationship I am trying to build, is not considered a Refuge!

Marie Abanga

info@marieabanga.com