My mother-in-law never liked me. She and my mom had a fight long ago, and the two of them were not talking until my mom died. When Peter and I started talking and realized we were falling in love, we asked ourselves these questions and laughed: “How can children of enemies fall in love?” Or, “When we are ready to marry, how will we announce it?”
It was a very small community where everyone knew everyone’s business. So when we started dating, right from the day I said yes, his mother got a hint of it and started warning him to stay away from me. Peter called our relationship a lie so his mother would get off his neck. A few months later, he got a new job out of town and left.
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His absence from town meant no one was going to know about what was happening between us. I visited him often, and each time, our love grew like wildfire. His mother knew that we were dating. When we bumped into each other and I greeted her, she frowned and walked away.
My sisters started warning me against Peter. They asked me to stay away. Even my aunts did. It was only my dad who didn’t care about what was happening. When Peter was ready to marry me, I brought him home to announce it properly to my dad. My dad didn’t object. He only wanted to know how Peter was going to manage his mom.
His mom never stopped being a witch against our relationship. She even threatened not to come to our wedding. She went as far as suggesting another woman for Peter to marry. Regardless of everything she did, we were able to marry, and she attended our wedding. She wore a very beautiful kente cloth, but the only thing you could see on her was the frown she was wearing.
After marriage, I joined Peter where he was and did my best to stay away from her. I didn’t go home with Peter for anything concerning his family. Yet, his mother found a way to throw shade at me, questioning my integrity as wife material. I gave birth; she never came to see us. She said she was too sick to travel, yet when there was a funeral out of town, she had the strength to attend. It didn’t bother me. I knew who she was, so I stopped being surprised by anything she did.
Her sickness got worse and rendered her immobile. She stayed in bed for a while before she finally gave up the ghost. She loved my husband so much that I could understand why her death broke my husband into pieces. She hated me, but she found a perfect way not to allow the hatred she had for me to affect my husband. It was even the reason she attended our wedding.
I mourned with my husband. When the funeral arrangements turned into a fight between the children and the extended family, I stood beside my husband and fought with him. But I knew for sure that no matter what happened, I wasn’t going to attend the funeral. My dad even warned me against it. “She didn’t want to see you while alive. Don’t stir her spirit to anger with your presence at her funeral,” my dad said.
After all was said and done, my husband came home one day to tell me that the family had agreed to put me in charge of the food for the funeral. I’m a caterer. I’ve handled every occasion, including funerals, but I never thought for a second that I would be considered for that role.
I said no. He asked why. I answered, “Ask your mom if she would want me to do that. If the answer is yes, I’ll gladly do it.”
He said his mom was dead and had no strength to fight, so I should ignore our fight and do that for the family. I told my dad. He called my husband to tell him our side of the family was not allowed at the funeral, so his daughter wasn’t going to be the cook.
My husband, after talking to my dad on the phone, turned to me and said, “Is that how you people are? Then it means you also hated my mom and are happy she’s dead so you can execute this agenda.”
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After saying all this, he still wants me to defy my dad’s instruction and follow him to the funeral. He says it saves costs, and everything has been left to him, so he is begging me. Honestly, even if my dad hadn’t said it, I wouldn’t have done it. I love my husband. I submit to his leadership in all things, but not this one. It’s too risky for me, especially when he himself did nothing to resolve our issues after marriage.
Maybe he did and his mother didn’t respond positively, but if that’s the case, why does he expect a positive response from me? I’m not attending the funeral, let alone being the cook. Or am I stretching the issue?
—Adjo
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