MUST READ: “How Twitter Ruined My Marriage” – Woman Laments

Efe and I got married two years ago. Before we
got married he really wasn’t all into social
networks but now he’s on all of them: Pinterest,
LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook and other silly social
networks. I wouldn’t have minded if it was just
Facebook, I can deal with that. Everybody is on
Facebook. Normal people are on Facebook. But
Twitter…
That’s a different thing entirely. All sorts of
home breakers and husband snatchers are on
there.
I started to notice something was wrong when
Efe started spending more time than usual on
his Blackberry. He’d come home from work, kiss
me briefly before settling on the couch with his
Blackberry in his hand.
I would tell him something like “Honey, I went
shopping today and just guess who I saw.” And
he would grunt. Or I would tell him to come to
the dining for his diner and he would say
something like “I’ll be there in a minute” and he
would take forever to get up. He’d take forever
to eat and still wouldn’t finish his meals because
he was tweeting.
He’d go out with friends till late and fall asleep
as quickly as he hit the bed.
The day that my suspicions were confirmed was
the day he left his Blackberry on my reading
table while he was in the shower. I did not
intend to snoop. I was reading a book quietly
with my mug of coffee in one hand and my
highlighter in the other when his phone beeped.
I ignored it the first time.
It beeped again.
Then again.
Again.
My will to ignore it weakened with each beep
and I reached for the phone. He had Socialscope
notifications, direct messages actually, from
@Ivy_L_Chick. Her avatar was quite small but
the little I could see was cleavage. I was just
about to read the rest of the direct message
when I heard the door of the bathroom creak
shut.
I jumped and dropped the phone like it had
scalded me. Efe cocked an eyebrow my way.
“What were you doing with my phone?” he
asked, coming towards me. I felt like a criminal.
“Nothing. I wanted to check the time.”
He nodded and continued dressing. I believed he
believed me until he was on his way to work; a
functioning clock was directly in front of me. It
has always been there. I put it there myself.
By the next time I could lay my hands on his
phone, there was a password on it. It was on my
ninth try that I heard Efe’s footsteps in the
hallway. I quickly pulled out his battery and
restarted his phone so he wouldn’t know that I
had been trying to enter his password.
Instead of the usual brief hug and kiss, Efe
lingered awhile with me in the kitchen he even
helped me do the dishes and he did not reach
for his phone once. Not once.
He started noticing my new hair dos again, he
started complimenting me again but I was not
content with having Efe back.
A need to go through his Twitter consumed me
so much that all I could see at night was
@Ivy_L_Chick’s avatar. I could see it in the
mirror in the morning, in the television in the
afternoon and yes, in my dreams at night.
Finally, one morning, I decided to get a Twitter
account. I was familiar with all the lingo because
my husband used it so much. Oftentimes, he
would refer to one of his friends as
@thatblackboy instead of Tunde or he would say
Ejiro’s avatar makes brain or something like
that.
I opened a Twitter account on a Tuesday
morning with the handle @barbiexxx and an
almost completely Unclad avatar i found
through Google. I started tweeting Efe and
retweeting all his tweets. Soon after he followed
me back and sent me a direct message.
@ThatEfeGoi: Hey. Wassup?
@Barbiexxx: I’m good. You?
@ThatEfeGoi: I’m chilling. Nice avatar.
@Barbieexxx: Thank you! Yours isn’t bad either
@ThatEfeGoi; lol i appreciate.
@Barbiexxx: you’re welcome
I wished he would say something flat out
incriminating like “Want to hook up?” but he
didn’t.
Not that day. Not the day after or even the
following week. But my mind was still not at
rest. Why did he put a passcode on his phone if
there wasn’t anything he was trying to hide
from me? There was and I was hellbent on
finding out. I just never stopped to think about
what I was going to do with the incriminating
information but I wanted it as bad I wanted my
next breath.
I got the evidence I wanted right in my lap two
weeks after the first direct messages we shared.
He sent me a message asking if I wanted to
“hook up sometime on Saturday” He had told
me that he was going to watch a match with a
couple of friends at a bar on that same Saturday
at the same time he wanted to “hook up”
I told him that I would be available.
The next few days after that were the longest
days of my life and when Saturday came, I was
more than ready to face my two timing
husband. We agreed to meet at Spicery hotel’s
lobby. I got there at 2:15pm fifteen minutes
after we agreed to meet.
I can’t begin to describe the look on his face
when he saw me walking towards him, swinging
my handbag menacingly in my hand.
“So this is what you do behind my back ehn,
Efe?”
He was speechless. I was so mad I caused a
scene right there in the lobby in front of the
receptionist and some of the cleaners even
some people came out of their rooms to see the
woman who was bashing her husband with her
handbag.
We haven’t said two words to each other since
that day. Efe now sleeps on the couch while I
cry myself to sleep. Nothing Efe says to me will
change my mind about what is happening
between us. Things are no longer the same and I
doubt they ever will be. The minute he walks
out the door in the morning, the dirtiest images
of him with another woman fill my mind.
Efe still denies that he has ever cheated on me
but I don’t believe him because I can’t find the
direct messages he exchanged with
@Ivy_L_Chick anymore. I don’t believe. I don’t
believe!
I cannot say for sure that I am not losing my
sanity. But I can say for sure that my marriage
isn’t the same anymore. Efe and I aren’t the
same anymore either…