I wished all this could be a dream I could wake up from, but sadly, it’s a reality I had to face.
I hated what marriage was all about and thought, “How do people do it, that they keep giving testimonies of how their marriage has survived 30 years and over, mine could not even stand a 10”.
We have no chance of choosing our parents or siblings but we are given the chance to choose whom we would spend the rest of our lives with. Making a mistake in this is all your fault and this I accept as my fault, because I choose the wrong man. My story began this way:
I was going to clock 30 the next year. I couldn’t go to my parents, because I would hear the same story of me bringing a husband. I woke up one morning, looking at myself in front of the mirror, and I asked myself what was wrong with me. “Am I not beautiful enough?” I thought to myself. “Few months to my 30th birthday, still with no man to call my own”, I continued. I was becoming so desperate, that I made up my mind I would go for any guy, not worrying about who he is. I just need someone and we can work out our differences.
Well to cut the story short, I finally met Bode. And though he had a very bad temper, I overlooked it and believed I could manage. I made him meet my parents, who were very happy to see him. We got married my parents spent money on my wedding. All marriage ceremonies went well. We started living together, but soon I began to curse the day we got hooked up in marriage.
Bode became my worst nightmare. He rarely came home and when he did, the house was always on fire. He would shout at me, get angry at my slightest mistake. Whenever he was angry, he broke things, beat me. He always felt he was all perfect with no error whatsoever. I had two children for him and they would cry, begging Bode to leave me anytime he beat me, but he would shout at them and lock them in their room. I was left alone to care for the kids. I complained to my parents but there was nothing they could do. Whenever he traveled on business trips, I could feel perfect peace once again.
It got to the brim the day I made a mistake of adding too much salt to the food. Spitting out the food, he ran to the kitchen. I followed him and started begging on my knees. He was so angry that he looked like someone very high on drugs. I knew I was in for another round of beating, so I ran out of the kitchen. He picked a knife and followed me. My children started begging, while I was also on my knees. In anger, he hit my eldest child with the back of the knife. Before I knew it, blood began gushing out. I screamed! I then ran to where my child was in his own blood, not caring if he would stab me. I was able to run out of the house and rush him to the hospital. Thanks to God, He saved him.
I was tired of this. Even if I could cope, I didn’t want my children to grow having with this man as father. So, I went home, packed my belongings and that of my children, withdrew all I had in my account, found a house to rent and moved in immediately.
Few months after, my parents called, wanting me to come over to see them. I went and behold I found Bode with them. He started begging me to come back, that it was all the devil’s handwork. All I could do was laugh and look at myself, thinking, “If I could be fooled once I can’t be fooled the second time”. All I did was walk out without a word. I made up my mind to walk away from him forever.
A desperate woman is blinded by her desperation – she can’t even see when danger is coming, but after the thirst of desperation has been quenched the hunger of reality comes in.
There is time for everything under the heaven.
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