I decided to send this article to The Point because I have followed the Editor-in-Chief, right from her days with Eve’s World in Punch. She has facilitated the marriage of some of my friends through true life stories published on the page and has solved some problems for couples without her knowing. After reading three editions of Spouses, I told a friend that the style of presentation reminded me of Eve’s World, and she drew my attention to the names lined up in the paper.
I’m therefore not sending my story for the fun of it, but for quality advice and follow up that can ease my burden.
I got married to my husband rather early, at the age of 21. I met him at the National Youth Service Corps camp. He was not a youth corper then, but had come to visit one of his cousins, who had come from another state for the orientation in Lagos. He met me at the gate and asked if I knew the lady he had come to see. Fortunately, I did. So, I took him to where she sat with her friends. Immediately he saw her, I turned to leave but he said I should wait so that we could have some drinks together. From then on, we became very close friends and I found out that he was a young lecturer at a polytechnic in the state.
After the camp, we continued to see. But not long after that, I lost my mother, who had been the only parent I knew since I was five years old. She died in a car accident. He offered his big shoulders and before I knew it, we were living together two months after my mother’s death. After two years, my relatives insisted that we must do some traditional rites even if we did not want an elaborate wedding. They said I was living with a man like a “worthless gift”.
After the small ceremony, my husband became very strict. He had commenced his PhD programme at the university, so he was busier than before. But that, I thought, should not have changed his behaviour. I had also secured a job with one of the top five banks at the time. Almost instantly, I became an independent woman, who would not wait for her husband before solving matters requiring financial attention. Instead of my husband being happy with the new situation at home, his behaviour became even worse.
He had not been that keen about us having a child before my appointment, but after six months at the bank, he started giving me so much pressure until everyone started complaining about my untidy appearance at work. Twice, I tried reaching out to his relatives to help talk to him, but each time; he accused me of wanting to turn his people against him with my “witchcraft”. I would sit down and ask God where I went wrong or how all the affection I thought he had for me vanished. I had always known that he kept ladies outside our matrimonial home, which was typical of lecturers, but that did not disturb our relationship, at least, not until that period. He stopped taking my calls, and whenever we got home in the evening, he would hardly return my greeting. I became so worried.Though we still slept together he only performed his matrimonial duties whenever he wanted to and would speak with ladies on the phone without any regard for his wife. I became really sad and my immediate boss in the office became interested in my case. One day, he tapped my table, when he thought I was fast asleep, and when I raised up my head to look at him, tears were rolling freely down my cheeks. Then he called me into his office and asked me to confide in him. He said I was his best staff and he would not want me to destroy my career with a problem that could be fixed. But to fix it, hesaid, I must share it. So I told him all I had been going through, leaving out only what I thought would not add value. After I had done that, I cried my heart out and we were there in his office till about 8pm. My phone was in my bag, so I did not see my husband’s several calls. I guess he was calling that way because I had stayed out one hour late. That night, my boss offered to drop me off, so that I would not waste more time. I pleaded with him to stop one street before mine to avoid being sighted by my already angry husband.
That night, I had not entered the house when my husband started beating me. He beat me up to the point that I had to visit the hospital the next morning and report late for work. Immediately my boss saw my swollen face, he told me to go back home immediately and apply for one-week sick leave. I was grateful to him on the one hand, but on the other, I felt I would be happier among my colleagues in the office, than at home with a husband, who had turned himself my enemy overnight. When I resumed, my boss took me out for lunch and made me laugh with different jokes. For the first time in about seven months, I found myself laughing right from the bottom of my heart. One thing followed the other, and one day, we found ourselves on the same business trip to South Africa.
