There’s always that one man in a woman’s life who changed everything for her. He makes everything looks just the way they are supposed to be and makes you see the other side of love you’ve never experienced. That man for me has always been Idris. Some men went the extra mile to prove their love for me. It was the extra mile that made me say yes to them. A few months later, they give up on the relationship. They refuse to do the basic things that made me fall in love with them. They look for reasons to leave and when they get none, they give you those stupid lines, “You’re not the problem. I’m the problem. A woman like you deserves a better man. Not me.”
I’d been there before. A lot of times so when I met Idris, I was careful about falling in love too quickly. Yeah, he was kind and came surrounded with humor but I wouldn’t let myself go yet until he said, “I’m here because I want to make things work. Forget about the past. I could be all you need to be happy. Trust me.” The thing about Idris was that he didn’t like to go the extra mile; taking me to exotic places, buying me expensive gifts, or sending me money when I haven’t asked for it. He was a man of the mile. He did what was supposed to be done and that’s all. He said, “That’s the way I am. I come with no frills but I’m fun to be with.”
And then love between us started. I said yes to him on the third time he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was happy and I was happy too. He told me, “I will do everything to make things right. Just trust me.” I believed him because he looked believable. We started having fun just like new lovers do. He would drive to my office after work and pick me up so we go home together. Just after two months of dating, everyone around me knew he was my boyfriend because he was always around.
New love is like that until it begins to wither with the weather.
Four months, six months, nothing changed. Love was still love and we were enjoying every little bit of it. A year later, we slowed down a little bit because we needed to think about where we were headed and also address the elephant in the room. “I’m a Christian. You’re a Muslim. You think we have a chance in the future?” I asked. He said, “If we have a chance now then we do have a chance in future.” I asked again, “Does that mean your parents wouldn’t mind if you married a Christian?” He answered, “No they won’t mind. When you met them, did they look like they mind?”
Yes, they didn’t look like they mind. His mother loved me to bits. His father was a little bit reserved but he didn’t show any sign of disapproval of our relationship. My parents were cool too. They were like, “If he makes you happy, we can’t stand in your way. You’re old enough to know what you want.”
The path to our future was cleared for us. I started spending some nights at his house. In the evening, this guy will lay his prayer mat, sat in front of me and say his prayers. Immediately after that, he’ll jump on me and kiss me all over and we’ll have a great night afterward. At dawn, he’ll wake up and pray. He didn’t care what he does to me before or after prayers. According to him, the most important thing was to continue praying at the times he was supposed to pray. I told him, “I can’t do this with you and immediately go for communion afterward. The guilt will shame me.”
That guy was a beast during sex. Maybe it was the reason I loved him the way I did. The things he did to me during sex had never been done to me before. It’s a whole-body experience—not a single part of my skin was left out. And immediately after that, he’ll jump, do his ablution and offer his prayers in a posture that made him look like a saint. I’ll laugh in my head and say, “Please Allah, look not unto our sins and listen to his prayers. He’s a good man with sinful hearts.”
One day everything took a wrong turn.
When I look back at what happened and how small I thought it was, I laugh and tell myself, “How can something this small destroy a two-year relationship?” But it did, so I guess it wasn’t as small as I thought it was.
I went out to a party with some friends. Knowing he wasn’t going to be there, he told me, “Be a good girl. Don’t go back home drunk and in case someone tries to woo you, tell him you have a boyfriend.” At the party, we had too much to eat and drink but I was careful not to drink anything that contained alcohol. Later in the night, he called to ask if he could come to pick me up and I said ok. Soon he was there. He came to where I was seated with some friends, eating and drinking. He greeted and the girls responded cheerfully. He saw a plate of meat on our table and some drinks. I saw his eyes going around, checking on the bottle to see if it’s alcoholic. Then he asked, “What are you ladies eating?” One of my friends responded, “Pork and juice, you’re invited.”
The next second, he turned and walked away. I followed him to his car but he ignored all my calls and drove away. I called his phone, no response. I couldn’t continue enjoying the party knowing what had happened so I picked a taxi and followed him home. Immediately he saw me at his door he screamed, “Don’t bring your filthy self here or else I’ll murder you?”
Filthy? What did I do?
He was so angry I could see him physically shaking. I asked him, “Is it because of the pork?” He kept shouting and saying a lot of degrading words to me; “You go and eat that filthy thing and want to come and touch me? Didn’t I warn you? Don’t get close to me. It’s over.” “it’s over? Just because I ate pork? I didn’t even eat a lot. Just small pork and you’re behaving like I killed your child?” He answered, “Just small pork? Leave my house.”
He stepped out of his room and pushed me to leave his compound.
For a whole week, I kept calling him and he never picked my calls. One day he sent me a message, “Stop calling me. I wasn’t joking when I said it was over between us.” His parents didn’t help matters either and there was no one to run to and make a case. I just had to sit and watch him walk out of my life all because of pork.
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People had better reasons for leaving a relationship. You ask them and they tell you, “She cheated,” or “She stole from me,” or “Both of us were not compatible.” When someone asks why my last relationship didn’t work out, I say, “I ate pork.” They laugh and ask, “Are you serious?” I tell them, “Yeah, All the love he had for me vanished into thin air just because I ate pork. I turned to pork in his eyes because I ate pork.”
This is a guy who didn’t mind eating me inside out. He didn’t care where I’d been or who I’d been with or even the last time I had my menses. He would put his mouth and tongue under there and do it passionately as though his life depended on it. He will then get up, do ablution and pray right in front of me. All that didn’t count as filthy. I ate pork—little slice of pork and I became the filthiest person alive in his eyes.
A friend told me, “When a man wants to leave, he would find reasons—any reason at all to leave your life.” I didn’t think eating pork could be a reason for a man to leave. My friend said, “Maybe he wanted to leave and didn’t have any reason until you gave him one.” I told my friend, “But he was always lovely. There was not a single day that he gave a hint that he loved me less.”
Hmmm. Maybe there’s something else I didn’t know about. He should have been a man enough to tell me whatever that was. Now, I see pork and walk away because of the bad memories it brings me.
