I am thirty-two, grown, and at that stage where everyone thinks I should have things figured out. Where everyone thinks I should have children, a husband, something. And maybe I do, maybe I don’t. One of the things I haven’t figured out is the kind of relationship I am in right now.

We live together, like husband and wife, but we are not. We do the things husband and wife do. I cook for him, I set the table, he provides money, he makes the decisions, and I wait for his opinion.

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When we first started, things were going well for us, on track, living the dream. That was until I started asking for upkeep money. We argued about it. If I was doing the wife duties, then he should also take care of me, right? I mean, husbands take care of their wives, their needs. I expected him to do the same. It was a lot of back and forth. He said I was working and had my own money, so I should take care of myself. I don’t know what happened, but he finally agreed and started giving me twenty-five dollars each month for three months straight.

But that money is small. It can barely do anything for me or even for the house. When it runs out before the month ends, he flares up, angry, says a lot of harsh words to me.

Aside from the money, he isn’t willing to help me with the little chores at home, especially at weekends. He prefers to go out with the boys, chill, drink, and come back after almost all the work has been done. Even when I complain, he tells me it’s my job, and if he feels like assisting me, he will, so I should just be quiet.

In eleven months, this man has beaten me to a pulp more than five times. Every time he does it, he apologises and blames the devil for it, sometimes he blames his anger. Then I would go to work crying at night, with my face swollen. My parents and friends know about this. They say I should leave for my own safety. But they don’t understand the pressure I am under, the pressure society is giving me. They don’t fully understand the depth of why I have chosen to stay with him regardless.

Just a week ago, things took a dramatic turn. He went out with his friends as usual to have fun while I stayed home doing the chores again. When I finished, I rushed to my office, returned home exhausted and drained, completely spent, while he was still out. It was 10 PM when he texted, telling me to prepare rice for him, that he was very hungry and needed to eat. I said no because I was tired.

When he returned home and saw I hadn’t prepared the food, he got angry again. Before I could refuse again, he put his hands on my face, then he held my hands and twisted them around and around until I was screaming in pain. Even then he didn’t stop until he decided to. For two days straight I couldn’t do anything with that hand. I was in so much pain.

It was that night I knew and decided I was going to take a break from him. I didn’t even know how to tell him. But I gathered and mustered courage and asked him to return to his house, that I needed some time alone.

For the entire week of separation, he didn’t leave me alone. He called to beg for a second chance. He called my friends and family to beg on his behalf, promising to do right by me and be on his best behaviour. He said he had changed.

My parents and friends are convinced that kind of man doesn’t change, he won’t change. But he kept begging and asking for forgiveness.

I finally took him back after he begged for several days. Judge me if you want, but I had my reasons, thinking I could trust him again. Only for less than two weeks of good bliss, we had a big argument and he packed up and went back to his house.

Now, he has started stalking me at work. I don’t know if he paid this colleague of mine, but he called a workmate, someone I had accused of giving him information about my daily activities. He explained some sensitive issues about me—secrets I had kept for years, secrets I shared with him because I felt safe—to this person. And that person went ahead and told everything to her friend, who is also our colleague. This colleague called me and narrated the entire episode.

Marriage Through the Eyes of Millennials and Gen-Z

Now, I am afraid to lose him. I am thirty-two, soon to be thirty-three in a few days, and up to now, I don’t have a child. The man in question doesn’t have a child either, but he has been convincing me to have one together. His behaviour over the past months makes me worried and sceptical.

I am also worried about what society or my family would say about me. At this age, I am not married and have no child yet.

So, in this case, what should I do? Should I ignore everything and settle with him? What is the best advice I can get right now?

—Freda

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