HOW I MARRIED A PROSTITUTE FROM NIGERIA
Nevertheless to say that we got married, and she immediately filed for me to get the green card. Two years later, I was able to get it. Meanwhile, I had been careful not to make any babies with her, despite her protestations. In 5 years I filed and got my citizenship. But could you believe this: the next day we were going to celebrate my getting my citizenship, but on her way home from work a trailer rammed into her car and it was a horrible accident. I went to the hospital, took one look at her and was horrified at what I saw. I never went back and never answered her phone calls. I moved out of the apartment and relocated to another city. I immediately made arrangement to return to Nigeria and marry. My uncle warned me that what I was doing and had done to the woman was despicable, but I didn’t listen.
(Two weeks ago, a call came into the office from someone calling himself Nduka, about the horrible mistake he made going back to Nigeria to get married. This is the story he told our correspondent, Tony Kabena.)
I know a lot of people would say, it serves you right when they hear my story. I am not expecting any sympathies from anybody, I know I did the wrong thing in my desire to make an impression back home and marry a virgin from home. You see, I am 36 years old. I can say I am fairly handsome, some times my girl friends have told me I am very handsome. So it has been quite easy for me to get girl friends since I was a teenager. When I finished high school in Nigeria, I couldn’t get admission to any college, my parents didn’t have money to bribe anybody. I wasted five years of my life, doing all kinds of menial jobs and of course getting into the sack with a lot of beautiful women, until my older cousin (uncle) decided to play God for me and brought me here at his own expense.
The first day I arrived, he sat me down and said to me, “Nduka, I have heard much about you, especially you so-called prowess with women. I have a wife and I respect my wife a great deal and you should respect my wife as well. My wife comes first before any other person. Don’t butt into my quarrels with her; it is none of your business. As for women, they are a dime and a dozen, (which I didn’t understand then). I have arranged for a school for you, it is a community college, and if you do well, you will be able to graduate to a four-year college. And the best advice I can give you is this: you are here illegally according to the government, and the best thing you can do for yourself is to find a woman who can marry you on a business basis.” I didn’t understand that either at the time. “We will look for job for you so that you don’t have to be too much of a burden to me and my family. As you know, many of my people told me not to bring you here, including even my auntie your mother. They feel you are no good. But I decided to bring you because a tree does not make a forest. If you do well, the little money I send to your mother, you would be able to take care of it.”
I thanked my uncle as I called him, and promised to behave myself. I had learned my lesson back home, that there was nobody willing to help me, and I wasn’t about to blow this opportunity. I was going to behave. For three months, I took care of my uncle’s children as he and his wife both worked, and I wasn’t paid a dime. But I didn’t think it was such a big deal as some of our young women are now resorting to all kinds of accusations against people who bring them to America so that they could help their families back and then get these people jailed. These people would not have amounted to anything back home if they weren’t given the opportunity, but they turn around to bite the fingers that feed them. Their benefactors pay for them out of their pockets and bring them here with their own money and give them a better life. And here I am, in America, instead of languishing in Nigeria. So, I was very happy to be taking care of my uncle’s children and sure enough when three months came, as he had promised, he paid for me to start school at a community college.
It was after I started school that I understood what my uncle meant when he said that beautiful women were a dime and a dozen, which I understood to mean that there were plenty of beautiful women around, especially it looks there are more women at community colleges than men, actually there are more women at colleges than men, it would appear to me.
I was determined to do well, not to disappoint my uncle and his wife. I was even more determined not to give comfort to those people, including my own mother, who didn’t want me to come here. So, I went through community college with flying colors while working at a gas station, part time. My uncle arranged to have a mini party to celebrate my successfully completing my AA degree. But I was shocked when at the end of the celebration, he got up and said how proud he and his family were of me, but that it was time for me to move on. He said I had two months to get my own apartment. I felt a big blow. I was angry at him, and I thought his wife must have put him up to it. But the thing is that his wife had been my best protector. I stormed out of the party, but later realized that at 24 years old, I should be taking care of myself. I went back and apologized profusely to my uncle and his wife. Even the children were crying when I came back and I told them I just wanted to get some air. I thanked my uncle and his family for the great things they have done for me, and that I wouldn’t ever forget.
Two months later, I moved into my own apartment, not too far from my uncle’s house, as he had told me that I could always come to have my dinner at his house anything I felt like it. He and the children even helped me to move whatever little possession I had. As luck would have it, the next day I met a very pretty black American lady who lived on the same floor with me. One thing led to another, and before long we became romantically involved. We decided to save money and stay in one apartment. She had a good job working for the city, and now I had graduated to driving a taxi, which paid me more money. As difficult as it was combining my school with driving a cab, I still graduated in two years with B.Sc in engineering. After a year, I convinced my girl friend that we should get married so that I could get a better job if I had a green card. Initially, she was reluctant because she said she had heard a lot of stories of Africans, especially Nigerians, marrying black American women only to abandon them to go home and get married to their village girl. I assured her that nothing of the kind would happen, of course, not telling her that my people had already started pressuring me to return home and get married. They had even picked the girl for me to marry.
Nevertheless to say that we got married, and she immediately filed for me to get the green card. Two years later, I was able to get it. Meanwhile, I had been careful not to make any babies with her, despite her protestations. In 5 years I filed and got my citizenship. But could you believe this: the next day we were going to celebrate my getting my citizenship, but on her way home from work a trailer rammed into her car and it was a horrible accident. I went to the hospital, took one look at her and was horrified at what I saw. I never went back and never answered her phone calls. I moved out of the apartment and relocated to another city. I immediately made arrangement to return to Nigeria and marry. My uncle warned me that what I was doing and had done to the woman was despicable, but I didn’t listen.
Two years ago, I traveled to Nigeria and I was received with a hero’s welcome. My mother and my other relatives were very happy to see me, they were very happy that I had brought home the golden fleece. At the party they held for me, they invited the girl they said they had found for me. I took one look at her and made up my mind that I was not going to marry something like that, no matter she was an accountant. I told my mother that under no circumstances would I marry the girl, my eye having already caught a very pretty girl at my party. I inquired from my mother about the girl, and she told me that she was no good, that rumor had it that she sleeps with a lot of men. I didn’t listen. The next day, I sent one of my younger brothers to go and summon the girl. She returned with him, and I proposed to her immediately. She accepted right away. Over my people’s objections, I forced them to perform the traditional wine offering and we got married immediately before I returned to the U.S. to find a way to bring her here. I had forged for me a divorce certificate from my wife, who I understand had recovered completely and had decided not to even look for me.
My Nigerian wife arrived a year ago, and our relationship has been nothing but headache. My mother was right: I married a prostitute. From very reliable sources, she has bedded many of the people in my apartment building and I now realize that I have gonorrhea. Karma? I guess you could say that.
Tony Kabena’s Note: If you have your own story to tell, write to us at astadvice@yahoo.com
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