A call came through one day…

“I am in your school. I am coming around to see you.”

“What are you doing in this part of town?”

“I came to visit someone. I thought I should pass by and say hello to you. It’s been a while.”

She was a friend I hadn’t seen in a very long while. I was happy to hear from her and was happy that she was passing by to see me. She came and we talked. We talked about old stories and talked about life in general. When it was time for her to leave she asked me, “Can I borrow your slippers? Mine got torn on my way here.” I gave it to her. She told me the friend she came to visit would bring the slippers back to me.

The following weekend I was in the hostel when I had a call. The voice on the other side was a guy. He said, “I’m the one bringing your slippers. Where is your hostel?” I gave him directions to my hostel and hung up. By the time he showed up, I was cooking. I asked if I could offer something and he said no. “Maybe some other time. I came with some friends and they are out there waiting for me.” He said. He left and I didn’t hear from him again until a year later.

When he called I’d even forgotten about him. “Oh, you don’t remember me? The guy who returned your slippers,” He jogged my memory. Strangely as it may seem, this guy called to tell me he likes me. I was like “Really? How did we get here? I’ve met you only one time and that one time is enough for you to like me?” He said, “I like the way you are. You have a slim waist with a little bum, just the way I like it.” Honestly, there was nothing about him I found intriguing. I didn’t even remember him. I declined his love proposal; “Thank you but I don’t like you.” Again, he left the scene and never contacted me again.

I had completed school and was doing my national service in one of the government institutions. I was at work one day when this guy reappeared out of nowhere. He didn’t come because of me. He came to transact business and as if it was written in our stars to meet that day, I was the one who attended to him. He did his business and left. He came back again another purposely to see me. When we talked, he confessed his love for me again. I told him I didn’t feel anything for him but he wouldn’t accept it. He continued coming until I decided to give him a chance. He was the second person I was going to date. After a year in the relationship, I realized I still didn’t feel anything for him but I kept going, hoping things would change along the line. Love has wings. It flies to us when we least expected it. I was waiting for love to fly to us.

Another year came to pass. Nothing had changed so I tried to break up with him. I tried it on several occasions but he refused to let me go. It didn’t help matters that I had introduced him to my family. As the only daughter among six sons, and of course, a daddy’s girl, I couldn’t hide anything from my family except that the man I introduced to them was someone I didn’t have any love for. While I was battling with the issues in my heart, he was serious about the relationship and was carrying it to another level.

We started talking marriage and by the time I knew it, we had started marriage counseling in his church.

I felt I had to reciprocate his seriousness to the relationship so I introduced him to my pastor. When I took him to my pastor, he asked him, “What do you do in your church?” He answered, “Nothing.” My pastor advised, “Go and join a ministry in your church. After that, we can talk about your plans of marrying my daughter.” When we left the church, my boyfriend was very angry. He didn’t understand why my pastor asked him to join a ministry in the church.

Two months later my pastor called to ask about him. “He has joined the ushering ministry now,” I said. My pastor replied, “You have to be bold.”  That didn’t make sense to me. We weren’t talking about anything concerning boldness so I was lost. He didn’t explain himself. He only said, “The marriage counseling has to be done in our church and not in your boyfriend’s church. We would have to start over again.”

The first month of the counseling was done by my pastor’s wife. In the third week, I was the only one who showed up for the counseling session. My pastor’s wife told me; “It’s good he didn’t come with you today. There’s something I want to tell only you. From what I have seen so far, I can tell you this marriage won’t bring you any happiness. You will suffer if you go into it. From all indications, the man you want to marry is looking for a maid, not a wife.”

When I got home I called my father. I told him; “I won’t go on with the marriage.” He asked why. “He is abusive. He sexually abused me once and when I tried to break up with him, he got angry and smashed my phone. I can’t marry such a man.” I left out the part where I still couldn’t bring myself to love him. The fear my pastor’s wife confirmed. My father said, “I am your father. I will be here for you whenever you need me. Don’t they say that the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t? At least you know how he is so find your way around him.” I am a daddy’s girl so I took my dad’s counsel and went ahead with the marriage.

Three weeks into the marriage, he did something I wasn’t happy with, and when I complained, he said “You better not return home after work.” Which meant I had no right to complain about anything he did. I should just swallow whatever he dishes to me. We attend the same church, my church.  My pastor appointed him as his personal assistant so he spends a lot of time in church. Sometimes he gets home at 1:00 am. When I complained, he said, “If you are bored you can go to your mother’s house.”

About two months into the marriage, he said he was going to bring his 6-year-old niece to come and live with us. I told him I couldn’t juggle taking care of the child, school, and work. It would be too much to handle. He got angry but I stood my ground for once. The niece didn’t come.

I got pregnant. He made situations in the house worse for me. A lot of stress and other things led me to my first miscarriage.  While I was recovering from the miscarriage, my husband didn’t even have a little empathy for me. He still continued to make things worse. One night I told him to help out with the chores a little, in response he beat me up. When he finished beating me, he packed my things and drove me to my mother’s house. He said I wasn’t raised well.

Later we resolved the problem and I returned to him. But the problem with abusers is that they don’t change, they only get worse. The second time he raised his hands on me I decided to move out. I had experienced a second miscarriage, gotten pregnant again, and had a seven-month-old baby at the time it happened. I had gone through too much to allow myself to be a punching bag for a man. I moved out and he called my father to tell him unpleasant things about me. My father and my brothers saw for themselves what he was capable of, and agreed that I will not go back to him.

When he realized that I wasn’t coming back to beg him to take me back, he came to my family, groveled, and apologized for his misbehavior. He was forgiven and I was asked to go home with him.

READ ALSO: I Won’t Allow My Daughter To Determine Who I Should Stay With…

You are wondering why I keep going back, right? You’re asking why I ignored the red flags. I can only give excuses; I was a naïve girl who barely spoke. I didn’t know how to speak up for myself or defend myself. Maybe I would blame it on my slippers. Or the old friend who visited. What if she didn’t visit me the day she visited? What if I didn’t give my slippers to her? It’s my own slippers that got me connected to this devil in my life now.

Now, I’m back to the marriage. Nothing has changed. I still cannot stand him.  I feel like cutting his hands off me whenever he touches me. He gets angry when he hears me talking to my family on the phone. He doesn’t talk to them so he tries to stop me from talking to them too.

My mother’s only advice to me is that I shouldn’t have any more children with him. She tells me; “We don’t want another child of his in the family. One is enough.”

I don’t want to raise my child in such a toxic environment. There’s no love and no family support. I still don’t know how to speak up for myself or defend myself. Maybe this is why my pastor told me to be bold. He must have seen what was coming and was warning me against it.

–Anna

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