When I met him the first time, if I knew he was living in his parent’s house at that age, I wouldn’t have accepted his proposal. Recently, I told him this and he said I was being hard on him but that is the truth. I wouldn’t have looked at him twice, I wouldn’t have responded to his hello, I wouldn’t have given him my number for him to call and propose to me. If I knew then what I knew now, there would be no us but as I write this, a lot of water has passed under the bridge and there are so many things that can’t be undone.
When I went to his house the first time, we were in the room when his senior brother entered without knocking. When he saw us, he didn’t greet us or even say hello. He just picked something and left. He looked a little bit angry. When he left I asked him, “Who is he and why does he come to your room without knocking knowing very well that you’re here with someone?” He tried to make it look like it wasn’t a big deal but it was to me. He answered, “That’s my senior brother but don’t mind him. He’s like that. Maybe he didn’t knock because I share this room with him.”
I took a look at the whole room again and asked, “You share this room with him? It’s a single room with a single bed. How come?” He answered, “It’s a long story but don’t worry, I’m moving out of this place very soon. I’m out there looking for a place of my own.” I smiled on the inside, knowing very well that it wasn’t a permanent arrangement. The house belongs to his father who died and left it for them. His mom has rented the whole place out leaving them with only one room to share. They have a sister and the sister shares a room with their mother. The house has about five different households that share everything in the house. Call it a big compound house and you wouldn’t be wrong.
A year later, he was still living in his parent’s house, sharing a room with his brother. I couldn’t visit him at his because of his brother. I was with him one evening when his brother kept coming in and going out. He won’t knock. He’ll just enter at any time, stay for a while and then go again. I was getting uncomfortable but I didn’t want to leave because of that. Around 7pm, his brother came in and said, “When is she leaving? She better start going now because I want to sleep. Why do you always want to keep the room to yourself knowing very well that you’re not the only one living here?”
I was embarrassed. I got up, took my bag and started leaving. He held my hand and asked me not to leave. His brother screamed, “She shouldn’t leave, is she going to sleep here?” It turned into verbal exchanges between him and his brother. I tried to calm them down but they were too loud their mother had to come in to instil calmness between them. That day I vowed not to ever go there again. His mom was nice to me and his sister too. The only person who had issues was his senior brother. When I stopped going there, we either met in town and had fun or he came to my place. On weekends, he would come and spend the night with me and leave on Sunday evening. I was emotionally invested in the relationship but I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t rent his own place.
Two years later he was still there. I asked, “Is it about money? It shouldn’t be because you have a good job. Or you’re too comfortable in your parent’s house you think you won’t get that comfort anywhere? You’re a man. You need to leave home and start practising being a full man.” He told me he had been searching; “You and I know that I’ve been searching. I haven’t had a good place that’s why I’m still living here. It’s just a matter of time.” He didn’t want to involve agents because he didn’t want to pay the agent’s fee. I knew an agent who helped a friend to get a place. I liked his services and professionalism so I told my boyfriend about him. He said no. I said, “Don’t worry about the agent fee. He’ll get it for you for free.”
I told the agent I would pay the fees so he shouldn’t mention any fees to him. A week later he got a place. My boyfriend said no. He said it was too far from his workplace. I didn’t think that was a reason enough but I didn’t argue. We got another place a few weeks later and we went to see it. He said no because the landlord lives in the house too. After several attempts, the agent gave up. I asked him, “Be truthful to me, do you really intend to leave that house?” He answered, “You think I’m going to live in that room forever? We’ll get married and I’ll have no option but to leave. We only have to get the right place at the right price and I’ll leave.”
Three years after dating, we started talking about marriage. Where we would live took over the conversation because it meant a lot to me. I told him point blank; “There’s no way we’ll marry when you still live in that house. If you’re really serious about marriage, then prove it by leaving your parent’s house.” He said calmly, “A step at a time will eventually take us home. Just be patient.”
He came home to perform the knocking rite so as to get the list. He wanted to know how much he has to spend on the marriage and how much would be left for rent. He told me, “Right after that, I’ll pay for a new place that I’ve found. The landlord is about to complete it and we’ll be the first to live there.” I went with him to see the place. It was almost comp. I love how spacious it was and the fact that we were going to live in a self-compound house. I even started putting money on the side just in case he’ll need help to pay the rent. One month after the knocking rite, he came to me with a smiling face saying, “Guess what, my brother is moving out. He has a new job and it comes with accommodation so he’s packing out as we speak.”
I smiled and said, “Then your mom would be smiling soon because once you also leave, she can rent that place out or give it to your sister.” He responded, “You don’t get it. My brother is leaving means we have no need to leave even after marriage. We’ll have the room to ourselves without any interference. I mean for the time being. A year or two later, we can get our own place if we want to.” I was angry. “What do you mean? What is in that house that you don’t want to leave there? You’ll marry and still live in a single room? See, I left home when I was only twenty-three years old. I’m a woman but I wanted to see the world through my own eyes and face it with my own weapons. Look at me now. You’re a man and you don’t want to move out of your parent’s nest? It won’t happen. You can forget about the marriage now until when you’re ready to move out.”
The next thing I knew, his mother was calling me trying to convince me to stay in their house. “See, it’s a big house. Why rent when your in-law have a place for you? You can save money and do something else with it. You don’t have to rush out of the house.” The fact that he discussed that with his mother even made the case worse for me. We’ve been in this for over a month now. He doesn’t seem to get it. They are pushing it off the limit. They even sought to bring my parents into the issue. My parents can’t convince me when they know I left home when I didn’t have everything.
Now, I don’t even want the marriage again. If something as little as where to live is causing us this huge problem then you can imagine what will happen when we are faced with huge problems in our marriage. I’ve lost all the happiness that made me want to marry him and now all I want is to walk out and begin again somewhere else. I haven’t told him yet but I’ve told my parents to ‘unknock‘ the knocking they came to do. They asked, “How can you break a marriage even before it happens? Exercise patience. You’re a woman so you have to have enough patience in your breast to be able to be a wife.”
dating, what shows I can when we are married? I foresee problems and want to run from them but my parents think I’m leaving too soon, even before the party begins. Do you also share what my parents are telling me? That it’s too soon to leave a man who isn’t ready to leave his parent’s home? Do you believe I’m being too hasty after three years of trying? I need your opinion. Please be honest and tell me what you would have done if you were in my shoes.
