My marriage hadn’t been good for years. My husband behaved like he was possessed by the demons of adultery and disrespect for marriage. I prayed about it and hoped God would make a way. Seven years and three children later, I’d had enough. I had stayed quiet and prayed for too long, but nothing was changing, so I decided to go to our pastor and tell him everything I’d been through since I got married.
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He sat across from me while he watched me narrate my story with tears in my eyes. “He sleeps around a lot, my husband. He doesn’t take care of the kids or the home. As I speak, he’s been away for two weeks and hasn’t called unless I call him.”
He listened attentively and looked deep into my eyes as if he wanted to enter my soul. He allowed me to cry when I wanted to. He listened while I talked without interruption. When I was done, he asked me to get up. When I did, he spread his arms and asked, “Can I hug you?”
I shrugged and walked into his embrace. The hug lasted for so long while he breathed down my neck. He would place one hand on the back of my head and the other on my back and say, “This is how a woman like you ought to be hugged, not maltreated.”
Then I felt the bulge in his trousers. I thought he would be embarrassed enough to pull away, but he stayed and rubbed it against me. After what seemed like forever, I had to force my way out of his embrace.
I buried my face in shame, but he kept talking about how beautiful I was and why a man in his right senses wouldn’t treat me the way my husband did.
I walked out of his office, and I haven’t stepped foot in the church again. He didn’t have my number before, but now he does. He calls to ask why he hasn’t seen me in church for so long and asks if my husband has stopped me from coming to church. He’s acting as though what happened only happened in my head.
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I love the church. It has great teachings and is very popular, with a huge youthful following in Ghana, but this pastor at my branch has made me stop going. Sometimes, I feel I’m overthinking it. It was just his flesh that failed him that day, but his spiritual fortitude may still be intact.
Am I overthinking this?
—Frema
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