When Victoire left Ghana with her husband in 1993, she believed their journey together would be a lifelong one. For 25 years, they built a life side by side. He was her partner, her confidant, her best friend. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
Seven years ago, without warning, her husband got up one day and left. No fights. No bitter words. No final conversation. Just absence.
“I found out later that he left me for another woman,” she recalled. “At first, I was angry that he left without a good reason. But I wasn’t broken. I knew I had done nothing wrong. Yes, I was hurt, but not enough to let it crush me. I decided I would not cry. I won’t cry for any man because they are not always faithful. If he chose that path, then it was his decision to make.”
Victoire’s words are not those of bitterness, but of strength. She refused to let betrayal define her or dictate her children’s future.
As a mother of three, her greatest concern was not her own heartbreak—it was her children’s wellbeing. She worked on a mental health ward, and there she saw firsthand the struggles of those who had grown up in broken homes. Time and again, she heard patients speak of absent parents, fractured families, and the depression or addiction that followed. She was determined that her own children would not carry that same burden.
“I tried very hard not to show them my emotions,” she explained. “I didn’t want them to think their father’s leaving meant their lives had to fall apart. I wanted them to see strength, not pain.”
What makes Victoire’s story remarkable is not just her resilience, but her grace. She never made her husband an enemy. Instead, she chose forgiveness.
“We are friends,” she said simply. “He calls me, and we chat. My kids go to him, and he comes to the house. Any time he asks me to cook for him and his girlfriend and their two boys, I cook. It’s good. We should forgive each other. I’m not blaming him. He has apologised, and I have moved forward.”
It is a response few could manage, but for Victoire, forgiveness was not weakness—it was freedom.
Her focus turned instead to building a life of purpose. For the past three years, while raising her children and working full-time, she also went to university. It wasn’t easy, but she persevered. On July 10th, she will graduate with a BSc in Health and Social Care Management—a milestone that represents not just academic achievement, but the triumph of determination.
“It has been challenging, studying while looking after my kids and still working,” she admitted. “But I like my job. I like caring for people, helping them to get better and go home. I like making a difference.”
Her three children—now 23, 19, and 17—are all thriving in their own studies. They are her pride, her joy, her comfort.
“They are my world,” she smiled. “I don’t need anything else. They are always with me. To be honest, I don’t even miss their dad. I’m grateful for my life and for theirs. God has been good to us.”
In a quiet corner of Burgess Park, Victoire’s story shines like a light. It is a story not of bitterness, but of resilience. Not of betrayal, but of forgiveness. It is proof that even when life breaks apart, it is possible to rebuild with dignity, grace, and love.
