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The frequent occurrence of similar events that have led to failed marriages has proven that divorce isn’t a taboo after all. It has saved lives and given people another chance to experience love, happiness, and peace.
While it isn’t encouraged, it shouldn’t be labeled a sacrilegious act. May we not fall in love with our killers, may we not be romantically involved with those we would eventually murder, and may we find the courage to walk away from destruction without the feeling of guilt.
Mustapha Ishola shares his experience
I have never understood why people think it is more ideal for men to be with younger women. The narrative that marriages are more successful when the woman is younger than the man doesn’t conform to me. I have always been attracted to older women but haven’t had the luck of dating one. 
I’ve been friends with quite a number of them, and they all have told me that I have such a mature mind. This goes completely opposite when compared to my relationship with younger women. Most of them are lost in the idea that a man isn’t good enough until he can provide for his woman—provide anything and everything she asks for, whether or not she needs it.
I graduated with a first-class bachelor’s degree in psychology, and I have a master’s degree in criminal psychology. I am smart, thoughtful, hardworking, religious, and successful….I stand tall at 6 feet 3; I’m dark and spectacularly handsome. Without taking pride in these outstanding features, I am more than my looks. I love hard, but I know what I want. My heart knows what and who it needs – the reason I was forced to get married to Florence in the first place.
It’s been over a year since I was forced to marry Florence Sheida. Over a year, but every morning feels like waking up from a bad dream to living real-life nightmares. Florence is the only daughter of a single mum who’s almost more influential than the president himself. She’s a rich kid who gets everything she demands…I mean, she even gets things she didn’t ask for.
Florence is a beautiful lady and has a successful business that’s being run by her mother. She owns at least four luxurious mansions, and her local and foreign bank accounts keep swelling by the minute. Being an Oxford graduate with a Ph.D. in finance and investment, one would expect that I’d be the happiest man on earth, but I am not!
The Regret (embracing divorce)
When our parents finally succeeded in hooking us up despite my many excuses, I knew it was a failed project from our first date. She was always on Instagram; I would bring up important things and she’d be buried in social media gossip on her phone. For someone with a lot of exposure to the Western world and Western education, I was very disappointed at how shallow-minded she was.
She had almost no idea about the happenings around her, no political knowledge, and no common sense in tackling little challenges. The moment there was a problem, she picked up her phone and started ranting to her mum. I was disgusted! I tried to explain to my parents but I could have just stood in front of the mirror and complained to myself. Deep inside, I knew it could end in a divorce.
When my dad told me that I must marry Florence, even if it was just for a week, I knew there was no escape route. So whether or not I thought the marriage would fail, it was a must to marry her. It was a done deal. In the first month of our marriage, I almost ran mad. She slept late with the TV on all through the night until morning without bothering if the noise from the TV disturbed me. At this point, I was sure that this marriage would end in a divorce.
I moved to the room that was initially decorated for her but she moved there with me. She didn’t give me peace and she wouldn’t leave me alone. She was hell-bent on either killing me or sending me to a mental home. I had to fake going on business trips just to be away from her. There was no point complaining to my parents or her mum; there really was no need for that. The growing irritation of Florence’s attitude kept whispering “divorce” to my inner thoughts.
Unfortunately, I was in and this is my life now; but every time I ask myself if this is it, something in me wants to fight for a way out. I started to exercise a lot to get a hold of my mental health, I signed up at a gym in town to give me more time by myself. All through the long drive to and from the gym, I found myself thinking about running away….or just getting divorced. How and what do I need to do to make Florence agree to divorce me and leave my life alone?
Route to Redemption
Cheating wasn’t my thing, I wasn’t talking, chatting, or seeing any other woman. My mind wasn’t even settled enough to think about sex. I was the best example of a faithful husband; I was… until I met Dupe. Dupe was an older lady I met at the gym and I’d been seeing her since I began working out there. I could tell she was a gym rat from how she stayed on the treadmill non-stop for more than 45 minutes.
She worked with almost all the equipment and never rested until she was done for the evening. I admired her; she was pretty, about 5ft3 and she always had a nice scent on her. I wanted to be friends with her so desperately, but anytime I went close to her, she moved away; almost like she knew what I had in mind and was avoiding me. I mellowed down a little and strategized.
I figured that I’d just walk up to her after workout and start a conversation. Monday evening, I found myself looking for my best gym gear. Knowing how much a clean look would do, I got a neat shave and splashed some old Navy after-shave, a bit of Sure Spray, and my Polo by Ralph Laurent perfume. I looked in the mirror and knew I was a spec and more and there’s no way in the world she was going to ignore me today.
After workout, I hurried down to the parking lot and pretended to be looking for something in my trunk, but I kept using my side eye to look out for when she came down. Finally, she was out, on the phone, and seemed to be hurrying to her car. I didn’t know if it would be rude to just go stand beside her car or if I should abort the mission and try some other time.
With the effort I put into making a good first impression…the after-shave, Polo perfume that was meant for special occasions, and my favourite gym wear….it had to happen now! So I walked up to her and smiled as I approached her. She ended her call and smiled back. This was when I knew that I wanted to be more than friends with Dupe. For the first time, I started planning to divorce Florence and the guilt of meeting female friends died instantly.
We had such a nice first conversation that it felt refreshing to talk with someone who was so mature and intelligent. We exchanged numbers and over time, we became very good friends. She had been divorced for almost 15 years with three children: two girls and a boy. I told her about my marriage and she felt so sorry for me that she gave me such a warm hug; it was so comforting that my eyes watered. This made me realize how special Dupe.
The Knock of Divorce
Dupe held my hands and advised me to make sure I didn’t let the marriage be my end, especially as there were no children involved yet. Hearing this, I made sure Florence never got pregnant for me. I ran away from the “once in a blue moon” sex that was always orchestrated by her. Divorce became more of a necessity than an option.
One evening after workout, Dupe asked that we go for a short walk around a nearby park so we could talk. While we walked, she told me she was leaving the country. She said there’s a better life abroad for her and the kids and she had been planning it for over a year. Their visas were ready and they would be leaving in less than 2 months.
After a long pause, she told me she had not been as close with any man as she was with me. It was scary to her because the feelings she thought had died with her marriage were rekindled by our friendship and quick closeness. I wasn’t sure how to reply; I just stood there looking sad. The only words that came out of my mouth were, “do you really have to leave?”
She came closer to me, held my hands, and looked me so deep in the eyes that it felt like a hypnosis. Dupe has cat eyes and her pupils were a shade of light brown. I was lost in her gaze until I felt her soft lips against mine. Immediately, my hands wrapped around her waist while she put her right hand behind my head and pressed her lips harder against mine.
As our lips parted, I was convinced it was my first kiss! “Who are you?” I heard myself ask as I gradually pulled out of the hypnosis. She laughed so hard and said, “the one you missed.” That response hit me because, truly, this here is meant to be the woman in my house, not that ticking time bomb my parents have attached to my life to blow me up.
“If you ask me to stay back, Musty, I’ll take the risk and cancel our relocation.” Hearing her say those words made me so numb and heartbroken that I couldn’t say a word. She held my hands and told me she understood my position and would miss me so much because I had been a pillar of strength through our friendship with my constant encouragement and support.
With tears in my eyes, I told her it was my place to be thankful and I would more than miss her. We hugged tightly for almost a minute and walked back to our cars. As I watched her drive away, my heart broke even more, and I cried my eyes out. My heart needed Dupe but I just let her walk away without even trying to make her stay.
I lost the will to workout and my communication with Dupe reduced. I fought myself from returning her calls and messages. It was hurtful enough that she was leaving and I didn’t want to hurt myself more. I wasn’t in a good place and for a long time, I hadn’t had a good laugh until I met her. I woke up one morning and found a long message from her; she was leaving in 2 weeks and begged to see me.
She told me she would be at the gym that evening and prayed that I would come. I drove to the gym but remained in my car till she came down. She tapped my window and I unlocked the car for her to come in. I couldn’t look into her eyes. “Why were you avoiding me, Musty”? her voice was shaky and I knew she was hurt and fighting back the tears.
I just kept saying sorry till I broke down. I was crying like a baby while expressing my pain of losing her and the struggle of adjusting back to my old life. It took that moment for me to realize how damaged I was, how empty my life had become since I got married, and how much of myself I had lost. While trying to pull myself together, I told her I needed her in my life as my woman, but I didn’t want to make a promise I wasn’t sure of keeping.
“Come with me, Mustapha… you have a good degree, and you can make a good living in the UK”. She tried to convince me by offering me a space at her house in the UK till I could get mine but I declined. I told her it’s the life I have found myself in and I must deal with it; and as much as I disliked my wife, she was still my wife and I owed her the obligation to do right by her.
As I spoke these words, a part of me was betrayed. I was going about with the status of a married man but I was living a life of regret and pain. A woman whom I had no feelings for is living in my house as my wife. There is no happiness in my life and the only person who made me happy; the one who completes me is leaving me.
Dupe has been away for about 3 months and I have managed to grow my beard and a pot belly. I have also transformed into a grumpy man. What is there to be joyful for anyway? What I feel for Florence has depreciated from disliking her to despising her. My eyes opened to realize how little she cared about me or my well-being. She never cooked for me or supervised the preparation of my meals by the Cook.
All of a sudden, I have become a man that I don’t recognize just because I accepted my parent’s choice of a wife for me against my own happiness; and when happiness came looking for me, I pushed her away because I couldn’t leave this agony of a marriage. Not anymore, because with or without a divorce, I am leaving Florence.
Flight to Happiness
I am looking at the man in the mirror and I can barely recognize him. I have cried my eyes out and my head aches from a hangover. Whatever happened to the smart, thoughtful, hardworking, religious, and successful Mustapha Ishola? This isn’t him and this is not the life I will live, neither is it the path I will follow to my end.
I deserve to live. I was born in the UK, and my parents have 2 properties over there. As a UK citizen with a valid passport, I am leaving tonight. I got Florence to sign the divorce papers effortlessly because she wasn’t even concentrating. With my bags packed, I left the house unnoticed, as usual. My Secretary made a reservation for lunch with my Mum at a café in town.
As I sat with my mother, she held my hands and for the first time, I expressed my pain, frustration, and all I have had to deal with as Florence’s husband. My mum was so sad and apologized to me while expressing her regrets for putting me through such hell. With tears in my eyes, I gave her a letter for my dad along with the signed divorce papers. She knew I was leaving the country and made me promise to be in touch every day.
She blessed me, hugged me, and sent a farewell package to my Foreign bank account. I am a happy man today, living the life I truly deserve. I met Dupe a week after I relocated and we are romantically involved. She is older than me by 10 years, but it doesn’t even matter because she matches my energy and makes me genuinely complete.
I got a few calls from Florence demanding money for her upkeep and a new car; she’s obviously not aware that we are divorced. Her mother called me too, but she’s not my problem anymore. My life has been brighter from the moment Florence signed the divorce papers.
Divorce wasn’t something I imagined dealing with because the married life I imagined for myself was almost perfect and the complete opposite of what I had with Florence. More so, there are really nasty experiences of other people on social media. I can boldly say that divorce was my way out of depression, suicide, and a lifetime of regrets.
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