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The unfaithful wife - Season 1 - Episode 10
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Source: coolval
He came after me but I ignored him. I
got into my car and ordered John to
drive away. He complied immediately.
But, I did not have any place in mind to
go to so I got him to drive around till I
finally decided to head for the beach.
It was a sunny day, an ideal time to
splash in the greenish blue ocean so I
was not surprise to find, when I got
there, quite a number of people
swimming. My driver parked the car by
the street. I got down and strolled along
the path to the beach. When I got there,
I found myself a suitable place to sit. I
tried to relax my body, inhaling and
exhaling deeply.The sight of the sea
helped me a lot to relax. Very far off of to
my left, fishermen were mending their
nets. It was quite a distance away and
no swimming was taking place there. In
front of me was where the fun was
taking place in the sea.Soon, I caught
sight of a family; father, mother and
obviously, their two children, having fun
in the sea. Immediately my family came
to mind. I remembered the good old
days when I would bring my wife and
children to the beach to have fun. Peter
loved to swim. It was always difficult
getting him out of the water when it
was time to leave. All those happy days
were now only a faint memory to me.

Sitting on the shore and staring out at
sea, for the first time, I began to wonder
what made my wife commit adultery.
Was it that I was not satisfying her in
bed or that she was simply s£duced by
my friend’s wealth? Talking about
wealth, I was well to do by all standards


and was able to provide far more
beyond what she needed. So, it did not
make sense that she would fall for my friend’s wealth.

I decided it was not healthy for me to be
thinking of what my wife did so I shifted
my attention back to the family playing
in the sea. They had the fun of their lives,
splashing in the water until the sun
began to set. Gradually, people began to
file out of the sea. The family I had spent
my time watching also waded out of the
water and made their way to the
Chevrolet they had come to the beach in.
They got in and a few minutes later, they were gone.

Others too were leaving the beach. I
watched them all leave. A couple, who
had spent time romancing in the sea,
also left, hand in hand. Finally, I was the
only one left at the beach. It then
dawned on me that just as I was the
only one left on the beach, so was I the
only one left in my family.

My heart was heavy. I felt very sad. My thoughts went to my children. I wondered where they were and what they were doing. With a heavy heart, finally, I decided it was time to go so I
made my way back to my car, got in and got the driver to head home.

We arrived home shortly after 7:10pm.

Efe was waiting in the living room. Obviously, my driver, John, had already
phoned to tell her the outcome of the court case. Her eyes were very heavy, a
sure sign she had been crying.

“Sir, welcome” she said as she let me
into the living room. Then she burst out
in tears. I held her, pulled her close and comforted her. She and my driver were
the only one I could now call family. I called John into the living room and
addressed him and Efe.

“You know the outcome of the court case. But this is not going to be the end.
I am going to appeal against the ruling of the court. My lawyers are obviously not interested in an appeal so I have
sacked them. I would employ the services of a new lawyer tomorrow and
then launch an appeal against the court’s decision. Rest assured that Peter
and Pamela are my biological children and I will get them back” I said.

Even John seemed affected by the whole
saga. He was a lucky-go-happy person but suddenly, he seemed to have lost his
verve and dash. As for Efe, she broke into fresh tears when I began to talk.
When I finished talking, she said she has something to say.

“Sir, I am aware I will incur your
displeasure after you hear what I am going to say. However, I will take the risk
and say it. Sir, please forgive madam and take her back. I know what she has
done is very bad. But, for the sake and unity of this family, I am pleading with
you to forgive her and take back” she said.
I stared at Efe in silence. I could feel her pain. She was totally broken because the
family she had come to regard as her family had disintegrated. And, it was
clear she would do anything to get the family back.

Women often have a much more forgiving spirit than men. (Ironically, they also have the penchant for vengeance than men). As I sat starring at
the house-help, I wished I had the strength she had to forgive my wife. But, I just couldn’t.


Thoughts of someone else making love to her was just too much for me. And
worse was the fact that she had the guts to say I was not the biological father of my children was something I
could not forgive. For a woman to say her husband is not the biological father of her children is for the woman to admit that she has been cheating on her
husband for ages.


But, I had no doubt that Peter and Pamela were my children and I was prepared to fight to death to have them back. As far as I was concerned, no
authority, no law, no judge, no court and no human born of a woman was going
to stand in-between me and my
children. “Efe, you wouldn’t understand what is
happening until you are in my shoe. Just start getting used to the idea that your
madam is no more my wife. However, as
for Peter and Pamela they will be back to this house. They are my children” I said.
John for the first time spoke up.
“Sir, I know and understand how you feel. I support you totally in the path you have taken. It is one thing for a woman
to cheat on her husband and another thing for the woman to say her husband
is not the biological father of their children. As a man, I can’t forgive my wife for cheating on me let alone forgive her for daring to say the children I have
had with her are not my biological children. Madam Nora did not try at all!”
the driver said. It was the first time I had
even heard him speak with such
conviction. I thanked him for his
support.


Efe, I could see, had resigned herself to the idea that Nora would no longer be
my wife. After the talk with the two, I went to have my super of kenkey and fish with slice tomatoes and onions. I
was very hungry in spite of the setback I had suffered at the court that day. So as
not to feel lonely, I invited John and Efe to join me at table. They were understandably reluctant at first but later, understood why I needed them at
table; they were the only ones I could call family. Without them, I would feel lonely sitting at table alone.


John had been driving me for nine years
while Efe had been with us as house-help for seven years. She was 27 while
he was 35. Now, they were the only ones I could call family.


After supper, I retired to my room, had my bath after which I went to bed. By
8:45pm, I was sound asleep.
I woke up at 3:35am and sat up in bed
to think over all that had been
happening to me; my wife, her infidelity, er claim about my not being the
biological father of my children, the court verdict and my lawyers’ stance.
Suddenly, I began to wish that all that was happening was just a bad dream. I wished I would wake up to find that I
never caught my wife in bed with my best friend and that my wife never
dragged me to court saying I was not
the biological father of my children. I wished I would wake up to find my wife
up and about in the house, as usual,
getting breakfast ready for me to go to work and the children to school. Maybe I was going to wake up from the
dream to the usual morning scene of my
children being chased around so they
could have their bath and prepare for school. Then they will appear at table
later on all dressed up for school and
looking excited. After breakfast, I would
get them into my car and drive them out
of the house with their mother waving
and smiling affectionately at all of us.


I snapped out of my fantasy. What I was
dreaming of was a mirage. My wife was
gone. The unity of my family had been
shattered and there was nothing I could
do about it save fight for the return of my children.


I got up from bed, went to my gym
which I had not visited for days and
spent about twenty minutes exercising.
Later, I had my bath, had my breakfast
and then had my driver take me to town.
We found ourselves at Glo Estate. It was
a well-planned upper class area of
residencies and offices. Some of the
crème de la crème of the society had
their homes or offices here. At Number
6, Lollipop Avenue, we stopped. I got out
and walked to the gate while John
stayed put in the car.


I rang the bell and was startled when a
voice asked me who I was and who I
was looking for.


“I am Dr. Ofori-Mensah and I am looking
for Mr. Oscar Brew. I want him to handle
a case for me” I said. A few seconds
later, the voice, through the phone at the
gate, asked me to open the gate and
enter.


I pushed the small gate backwards. It
opened. I stepped into a beautiful yard
of very green grass and flowers of all
hues. I walked up to the front-door. I
turned the handle. It opened. I stepped
in and found myself in a corridor.
“This way, sir,” a lady who suddenly
appeared from nowhere told me. I
followed her up the stairs to another
room. She offered me a seat while she
stood waiting. After about three
minutes, she pointed to a door and
asked me to open and enter. I did.
“Welcome Dr. Ofori-Mensah. Are you the
Dr. Ofori-Mensah of Mother & Child
Hospital at South Ridge?” he asked me.
“I am, sir” I replied. He had obviously run
a check on me. I took a seat.
“Welcome, sir. I am Oscar Brew. My
friends call me OB. How may I help you?”
he asked. I thanked him and within five
minutes, narrated to him everything that
had happened concerning my wife,
ending with my decision to change
lawyers.


He did not stir or show any emotion as
he listened to me. His eyes bore into me
as if he was trying to determine
whether I was lying or telling the truth
as I talked.


Oscar Brew was one of the city’s top
attorneys. He was noted to be expensive
but delivers to the satisfaction of his
customers. He was also noted to have
handled very high profile cases and
gotten quite a number of suspected
murderers off the hook.


A tall slim looking man, he was in his
mid-sixties and greying. Everything
about him indicated he was well to do.
“Your entire cost is $50,000. You will
make a deposit of $35,000. As soon as
you do that, I will take over the case” he
said, neither smiling nor frowning.
I had come prepared. For my children, I
would go any length. I took out my cheque and wrote an amount of
$35,000 for him. He stared at the cheque
for a while after collecting it. Then he
said we were in business. He called in
the woman who had brought me in and
asked her to take me to see another person.
A few minutes later, I was seated in
front of a fat looking man. He looked like
a man who was perpetually happy. An
identification tag on his table identified
him as Kwabena T. Torto. He was the
junior partner in the law firm. He made
me write down all that had transpired,
from the day I caught my wife in bed
with my best friend to the day the court
declared I was not the biological father
of my children.



“Okay. Thank you. Tomorrow, you will
meet me at Accra General Hospital. You
will be undergoing tests to determine if
you can father a child or not” he said. I
stared at him
“I must undergo a test to determine
whether I can father a child?” I asked
him.
“Yes. The first thing we need to prove in
court is that you a capable of fathering a
child. And, it is not about belief; it is
about evidence” he replied, not at all
bothered by the fact that I was surprise
at what he had said.

Painful though it was, I reasoned that
what he was saying made sense. If I
prove to the court that I was capable of
fathering a child, my appeal will make
sense. Why would a woman claim her
husband is not the biological father of
their children when that father is very
fertile and able to father children? But,
for me, that may not end the issue in my
favour. So, I questioned the lawyer
further.


“But if the test proves that I could father
a child, how can it disprove the DNA
result that I was not the father of my
children?” I asked him. He smiled at me
and asked me to leave that aspect to his
senior partner. He seemed to be very
confident that we will win the case with
ease.


I left the law chambers satisfied that I
had come to the right place. I could
sense victory ahead; I was going to have
my children back!

The next morning, I was at the Accra
General Hospital before 9am. Kwabena T.
Torto arrived a few minutes after.
Together, we met the doctor on duty,
Harry Adu, who conducted the test on
me. He then asked me to come for the
results in the evening. Mr. Torto and I
subsequently left the hospital to return
in the evening.


I went back home to sleep but, I could
not. I could not watch TV, read or even
phone somebody to chat with either. I
was restless. I wanted the case over and
done with. As for the test I had no doubt
that I was fertile and able to father a
baby.

At 2:00pm, Efe came to tell me I had a
visitor. When I asked who it was, she
said it was my lawyer. I went to the
living room expecting to see Mr. Torto
only to find that it was, Carl Lomotey, my
lawyer whom I had discarded after he
expressed doubt that I was the
biological father of my children, Peter
and Pamela.


He smiled at me when he saw me. I did
not return the smile. Rather, I told him to
leave immediately. I said it quietly but
the threat in my voice made him recoil.
Quickly, he backed out of the house, got
into his car which he had parked
outside the gates and drove away. I
sighed in relief.


By 5:30pm, I was back at the hospital
and found to my surprise that Kwabena
T. Torto was already there. I nearly
screamed out more in fright than anger
when the doctor came out to give us the
result of the test; it said I was not fertile
enough to father a child.

“How? How? Why? I mean what…why…
how can I not father a child?…how am I
not fertile…?” I asked. The doctor
sympathized with me but said that was
what the result of the test showed.

I was totally devastated. I sunk to my
knees in shock. The doctor and
KwabenaTorto had to support me back
to the car. At the entrance of the hospital
before we will get to the car park, we
bumped into Kweku, my estranged
wife’s brother. He stared at me in
surprise and came to us.
“What is it? I hope everything is alright”
he said. The sight of him gave me
strength.

“Do not come close to me!! Get out of
my sight!!!” I screamed at him. He
backed away, terrified by my anger. But
for Torto and the doctor, I am sure I
would have slapped Nana Kweku. He left
us quickly, entering the hospital. I
decided to walk the rest of the way to
my car without any assistance.
John had the engine of the car running
by the time I got to it. Once I was seated,
he drove away without a word. I asked
him to pass through the Pink Lady
restaurant where I bought food for
three. But he did not see me buy a full
bottle of German-made Vodka.
When we got home, I went in-doors and
began to drink. The revelation that I was
sterile and could not father a baby was
too much for me. The result, indeed
confirmed the DNA test that I was not
the biological father of Peter and Pamela.
Within twenty minutes, I had consumed
a quarter of drink and was already
drunk. As I drank, I wept. I could see my
world coming to crush down. Now, it
was clear, at least for all the tests that
had been conducted, that I was not the
biological father of my children. I began
to contemplate suicide.…

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