Where do I go from here? (2)

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As God would have it, my brother returned from the United States, after about 10 years, the very next day. He had never met my husband; they only spoke on telephone. I had tried as much as possible to hide my husband’s true behaviour from people because I did not want them to see me as a failure in whatever area of my life. But that night, when my mother called me to break the news of my brother’s arrival and told me to speak with him, I could not utter any word; I just broke down and wept.

He was alarmed. So, he drove straight to our house very early the next morning. My husband was still dressing up when the doorbell rang. At first, I was shocked that someone could be at the door so early in the morning, but slowly, I went to check, and there, my brother stood, agitated, asking me to open the door and tell him all what happened.

Now, he smells my clothes and checks my undies whenever I return from work and has practically forced me to ensure he is on every trip with me outside the country. I feel like quitting now, but close friends think I should endure because people may start counting husbands for me

I opened the door and the first thing we did was hug each other because we had not seen in a very long time. As I hugged him, I cried and he cried too, saying it would be well. My husband, who felt that I had stayed outside for too long, came to see what was going on, and saw us in that position.

The next thing I saw was that he came out with a long bathroom pole and hit it hard on my brother’s head, then he started chasing me all around the neighbourhood. He went back when he couldn’t catch me and drove off to work. He was already getting too late for work. Before I came back, my neighbour, a friend, had taken my badly injured brother to the hospital just beside the house.

At that point, I did not need to tell him why I was so sad anymore. He saw it, first hand. Apparently, my husband did not know he was my brother even though he had seen his pictures many times. He felt he was probably some man, who I had spoken with about my ordeal in his hands the day before, and that he had come to console me.How absurd!

I did not sleep in that house that night and never went back. I started the divorce process and in the end got the custody of my two children. I moved on with life and got another banking job. I put my all in the job and determined to do all my best to raise my kids alone, not minding whether their father sent in upkeep allowance or not.

On his part, I was told that he brought in another woman about one month after that, probably to show me that he did not care whether I left him or not. But marriage, at that time, was the last thing in my dictionary; after all I had gone through in the hands of my first love.

Some of his friends came to tell me that he behaved the way he did because he was insecure and was always telling them that his wife was too beautiful to be left at the mercy of tigers in the name of men.

To cut the story short, after eight years of staying without a man in my life, and after series of talks that I should get married again, in line with the dictates of my religion and to be emotionally balanced, I gave in to the pressure of a man, who had been disturbing me for over one year.

He had a wife but told me that it would not affect our relationship and that she was already aware of his plans to take me for a wife and was in full support. I did not believe it at first until they started visiting me together.

I confided in my mother and one other friend because it was strange to me. But they said the woman was only trying to satisfy her husband and would rather have him bring in a good wife than threaten their union with dangerous relationships.

I agreed to marry him six months after he brought his wife to woo me, but declined to stay with them. I had my own apartment and was well paid. I rose fast to become a General Manager in my bank and left after about seven years to take up a United Nations appointment.

Marriage was easy for me at first because this new husband was not violent at all. He never hit me. He would come to my house for two weeks in a month and stay with the first wife for the remaining two weeks.

He had three children before we got married. I relocated my children to Canada after a while, when I completed my immigration documentation. But this was where my problem started.

My husband refused to understand why I did not include any of his children. I tried explaining to him that the process started a long time before then, but he said I was not treating his children like mine. I tried having children for him, but could not get pregnant.

To worsen my situation, he lost his main source of livelihood and everyone, including the senior wife, started depending on my income to survive. I was happy to do it because I knew it was only a matter of time for my husband to bounce back.

As hard as I tried to cater for everyone, however, I did not get the right encouragement. My husband started putting forward all sorts of demands for his children. He said I had to send them to Canada or the United States like my own children since I had refused to have a child for him. He began to say that I was deliberately taking pills to prevent pregnancy.

For him, he became a nagging child and suddenly started feeling insecure after eight years of marriage. He began to restrict my movement and monitor my calls. Up till now, he comes to my place without letting me know in advance, probably to catch me doing something untoward.

The senior wife, who had been noticing his actions, had begged me on several occasions to take it easy with him because he was passing through a painful phase in life. Inasmuch as I would love to do anything to ease my husband’s pains, I don’t think that I can endure his attitude towards me any longer.

He is behaving like a child that needs attention every minute of the day and complains about every step I take. Now, he smells my clothes and checks my undies whenever I return from work and has practically forced me to ensure he is on every trip with me outside the country.

I feel like quitting now, but close friends think I should endure because people may start counting husbands for me. Even if I leave, where do I go? I am confused. I need sincere advice.

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