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Wednesday, August 03, 2016

The Diary of a Beautiful, Dutiful and Broken Wife - (Full story)

Written by - Emelogu Godswill Chimaihe

Read first part

I can’t even believe that I have to run to Biola’s house for refuge. I have often thought that girls who kept themselves till they marry are entitled to better homes and better husbands. I don’t even know what is happening and I can’t believe that it is happening either. I always thought I was the most blessed of all women, blessed to have all I thought I needed.

Dear diary, I have been silent enough and I just have to speak up. It’s about my husband. I met Williams when I was undergoing my internship at the Teaching Hospital. I was studying as a Medical Laboratory Scientist and he was a undergoing his house job at the Teaching Hospital. I was skeptical at the instance because I had heard a lot of not so enticing gist about doctors but the sheer enthusiasm in which he carried out his duties would even make the Kardashian bitch fall for him. I liked him but I just didn’t want to end up like every other girl who has to break up at any point. Apart from being a doctor, Williams was also a sole heir apparent to a conglomerate of businesses his father had built; from real estate to oil and gas and to freighting, and insurance. He wasn’t giving up either, and just at about when I was coming to the end of my internship, I had been convinced to let him in.

He had so much sweetness inside of him and I wasn’t really a hard nut to crack. The next two years was bliss for me. Though we were living a distance from each other, it was as if we were together every time. From Facebook to Whatsapp, from Instagram to Skype, from 2go to hours of unending phone calls, we shared the moments of our lives together. I was proven wrong on my assumption that doctors have more time for other people than their family. The only time we weren’t sharing together were moments when he was either attending to a patient or I was in the lab. Yet, it felt new every morning.

Read second part

I was actually expecting his proposal at any moment because we would talk about how we want our family to be, we talked about names for our kids, how many we ought to have, their spacing, their sequence, we talked about how our sex life would be, our relationship to our families, there was little that we didn’t talk about. Yet, there was something I didn’t have the courage to talk about; his temperament.
Wills, is a combination of the melancholic and Choleric.

He just felt insecure and had a lot ill-founded fears, could get a bout of bad temper and become irritable. I would say that I was so into him that I was even scared of raising the issues up, partly because I hated seeing him in those depressed and irritable mood and I felt we had gone so far to allow this become an issue. I always believed that it was borne out of the insecurity he felt about losing me and believed that once we were married, he would be convinced that I belonged to him. It was as simple as that. Williams was also proud and self-righteous. He had no regards for anyone’s opinion and was not even ready to give you a chance.

We sat at a reserved table inside a reserved boot at the VIP lounge of a very popular bar at Asokoro, I was becoming suspicious of events around. I was seeing a lot of his friends coming in and then, my friends were arriving too. But they just made overtures and went over to occupy different tables, not very close to ours. Then the unthinkable happened. This skimpily dressed blonde walked in, those guys with microscopic eyes would definitely see beyond her clothes. She just walked straight to our table, slapped Williams twice and asked him “who is this bitch” referring to me. I made an attempt to talk and she pointed at me to shut up with so much hatred and disgust written on her face.

I made an attempt to stand and she ordered me to sit down. She reached for the glass of Champagne, poured herself some wine, gulped in a little and splashed the remaining on William’s face. I was becoming embarrassed, enraged and confused. She brought out what looked like a black panty and stuffed it into the cup, slipped a few currency notes under the bottle, and walked into bar.
All the while, his friends did nothing, completely standing in what appeared to be awe. Just then, the blonde walked to the bar tender, grabbed a clank, made a sound to draw attention and said;

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry for distracting you, I have known Williams for three years and for that three years, I have made every effort to get his attention and for that three years, he told me he was in love with another. Today I have confirmed that he meant all he said, but you don’t expect me to give up without a fight”.

All the while she spoke, I felt my anger build up to the boiling point, I was close to the flashpoint of explosion. Meanwhile, Williams said nothing, laying down his head in shame, submission and absolute disgrace. She continued, “I guess there’s something Williams has meant to say to her today and I want to hear it too”. Just then John Legend’s All of Me filtered into my ear, I was by now absolutely confused as Williams actually walked up to her, jumped on top of a table, and started speaking enchanting words, he then walked down to me and knelt on his right knee, a diamond ring in his hand and asked that million dollar question;

“Dolce, will you marry me?”

I was confused, I was wowed, I was excited, and friends were cheering, including this blonde who was the subject of all my anger, she was chanting “say yes”. Then I realized it was all a prank, I couldn’t hold myself; all I could mutter was “Yes, Yes”. Dear diary, that was the beginning of this journey. It felt so surreal and I felt like the luckiest woman on earth. By December 2014, we were married. Our wedding was the talk of the town and we had our honey moon touring the east African nations.

Read fourth part

Dear diary, I don’t even know what I did wrong after our one year of marriage. All the while, he was still the way I met him. I have prayed and fasted, I practically talked to no one about it because I don’t believe in third party involvements. I have begged, nagged, cried, joked about it, and even gone on communication strike just to make a point to him that I am not comfortable with his temperament, yet he seemed not to improve.
Dear diary, we were just three months into the marriage and two months into my pregnancy when he lost it one day. We were coming back from the grocery store and he made one careless drive that could have cost our lives. I was in shock and I scolded him and his bout was triggered. He cursed, he screamed, he fumed, he foamed and I was scared. He drove into the compound, before he could put off the ignition; I opened the door and fled. This has become my routine; to flee and hide in the house until he comes back to his senses.

But that day, he wasn’t having it. He followed me to the room, he left the door ajar and hit me across the face, he hit me the second time, raised my head and slammed it onto the pillow. My body was on fire, I could cry my heart out but I held on. The more I tried to hold on, the difficult it became. He was hitting me for the first time. Then, he stormed out and I could hear the sound of the car as he speedily drove out of the compound. I was sure he was heading back to the hospital. He never returned that night and I cried myself to a late sleep. In the morning, he was back. He was begging, he knelt down, he cried, we cried together, he held me closer. Williams promised not to ever lift his hands against me. I forgave him already, we had a mind blowing sex, I sang through the morning as a fulfilled woman who has the whole world.

Dear diary, I am sure you would be wondering why I am destitute and broken after I had said that he apologized. The truth is that he only gave me two weeks “sweetness” break and things became worse. He wasn’t just ready to have me correct his attitudes. Dear Dairy, did you remember the week I didn’t write you for a week, Yes? It wasn’t because I can’t write English again, neither was it because I forgot where I kept you. I was just too broken to write. He hit me again. This time, he called me names; he didn’t even mind the fact that I was five months pregnant. He hit me again.

I was just trying so hard to keep you out of my marital issues. You are a third party and I was warned against third parties. But see where I am today, taking shelter from the rain.
Dear diary, would you be surprised to hear that I haven’t known any peace since my baby became six months old? When I gave birth, the angel in him manifested. He would pamper me like a newlywed.

I gave him a son, I guess he felt fulfilled. He would sing me songs and make me promises. I felt like a queen. For six months, he didn’t curse, he didn’t hit, and he didn’t grow angry. He was just comfortable with the family we now had. I hoped that this would last forever. By the fifth month of my baby, he insisted I quit my job since he could provide for the family and despite my initial reservations, the sweetness I was experiencing was enough to make me give in.

Dear diary, while I was exclusively breastfeeding my baby, Wills and I reached an agreement to abstain from sex for the period of exclusive breastfeeding and when Jackie called me that she saw Wills with a lady at an eatery, I quickly wished that away and practically warned her off. Just a few days later, I was just putting the baby to bed for a nap and getting ready for the evening when Debbie called me and said “Hey, who did you leave your baby with this early evening and already following Wills around town”. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Wills had called in that he will be late from work because he is covering the shift for Kay whom he said was indisposed. Debbie did a lot to convince me that it was Wills that she saw.
At this point, my enthusiasm was growing; I wasn’t able to contain myself. I held myself and called Wills, he affirmed that he was at the hospital and would be coming in late. Out of annoyance, I called Debbie back and told her off. I told her how disgusted I was that she could be trying to destroy my family because she isn’t married yet. Out of that frustration and annoyance, Debbie decided to prove she was right. She grabbed her phone and covertly followed Wills and his date around; making sure that she took some covert pictures which she quickly transferred to my phone via Whatsapp.
She made sure she found out their final destination; a somewhat obscure hotel in Wuse Zone 6. I had once helped secure accommodation for a colleague in that hotel when the Nigerian Medical Laboratory Council held its conference at Abuja. I had established friendship with one of the friendly receptionists. I quickly called her.

Pretending that I had recommended them for a couple coming into town for an event, I asked if they had checked in as I couldn’t reach them yet, describing my husband and giving his name. Unfortunately, she wasn’t on seat and however promised to check with the person on duty and get back to me. When she did, it was my husband. He didn’t even attempt to conceal his identity.

So when he came into the house around 2 am while I was breastfeeding my baby, he started to blab about his tedious evening at work. As he said these words, I was fuming inside and was almost nearing the flashpoint. He was even getting angry that I wasn’t responding and then, I broke down. I ran into the room, clutching my baby carefully and I had forgotten my phone as I ran. It could have been then that he went through my phone and saw the pictures covertly taken of him with the lady.

Wills came into the room panting like an angry elephant; he descended on me with so much anger. I was pummelled without mercy. Dear diary, he hit me in the way no one would even hit an enemy. As I lay on the bed bleeding and crying, he stormed out of the house as usual and didn’t return until the next evening. I cried myself to sleep and woke up to the cry of my baby. He had hit me for spying on him, I was angry, very angry with Wills, with myself, everything and everyone. As I went through my chores, all I could think of was how to end it all. I didn’t want to live again, the only reason I didn’t do anything rash was my baby. I tried to call friends and family to share my burdens with but I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone. When Debbie started calling me, I didn’t even pick up because I had this combination of anger and resentment. Resentment because I felt it could have been better if she didn’t tell me.

When Wills later came around, he called me for the normal “alter call” following such anger and bullying. He cried and apologized. He said he was becoming sexually frustrated having stayed for over 7 months without having real sex. We cried together, I apologized for not doing my part, he promised that he had severed every communication with said lady and he seemed genuinely broken.

Read fifth part - END

I didn’t need a second thinking to forgive him. Few minutes later, we were laughing and giggling amid the pain he had inflicted on me.
Dear Diary, this is not one of the stories that end with “he stopped hitting me” because he never really did. This didn’t end with him stopping the use of abusive words because he never did.
Dear Diary, my baby turned a year and three months by last two weeks. I was in the kitchen cooking when I collapsed. I woke up in the hospital and the Doctor confirmed that I was pregnant again. I was overjoyed and so was Wills but there was something uneasy about him. He would unconsciously stare into the thin air from the glass windows of my hospital room and keep hissing like a viper, I made efforts to inquire about the situation, and he insisted that he would handle it.

When I returned home after three days at the hospital, what I saw shocked me.
There she was, right in our bedroom a woman I haven’t seen for my entire life. She took a very bitter look at me, elbowed me as she walked out of the bedroom into the sitting room. All the while Wills stood there transfixed like an ice preserved specimen. My brain was processing faster than the RAM of the mainframe at Google and Facebook combined. I was trying to figure out what was exactly happening and then he broke down again. He said “Baby, I dunno what happened, after the day we had a fight because of my staying at a hotel with a lady, I tried so much to keep her away but she kept seducing me, now she is pregnant and have refused to abort the pregnancy and has insisted that she will stay in our house”.

Dear diary, you could imagine the moment, can’t you? I crumbled to the ground, my baby was crying but his voice was like the echoes of a fading flashback in a Nigerian movie. My brain that had processed so fast few moments ago was now static, refusing to muster a process. I didn’t really ever believe that the brain could go so dumb, but that was the situation. I called Biola and she agreed to take me in. Then I fled the house, fled from Wills and fled from whoever she was. I could not understand how I was so dumb to trust Williams so much; I can’t even understand how I didn’t see all these playing out before me. I don’t even know how he managed to convince me to quit my job and I am certain that because he didn’t see me around again, he felt he was free as a bird to do as he wanted.

I have been loyal; I make sure Williams eat freshly prepared meal during every meal time. I did his washing and ironing, cleaned the house and would sometimes wash the car, especially those days he comes in late and worn out. I didn’t know I was just making myself a slave. He had succeeded in keeping me very far away from my family because he made me agree to keep family as far away as possible. Meanwhile, his only family are his parents who seldom stay in the country.

Dear diary, people would think that I am crazy for fleeing my home of close to two years for a random woman I don’t know anything about. But you can’t understand how broken I am. I have done everything dutifully to satisfy the high taste of my husband so that he wouldn’t look elsewhere. When we agreed to go for six months, I just suggested but he didn’t say in any way that he wasn’t comfortable with it. I am confused, totally unable to understand events no more.

This is my second week in Biola’s and he hasn’t called me. I didn’t even know he was alive till Kay called to meet up with me. Kay said he is broken and scared to even call me. I don’t even know if I would want to talk to him. I had to go do a HIV test and the moment I waited for the result was the longest moments of my life. Then the counsellor came in and told me that I have to come back tomorrow because something seems to be wrong with their kit. What if I have contracted HIV for being a dutiful wife? I don’t even know who to talk to. I can’t even talk to my parents because they weren’t comfortable or overly supportive of my marrying Wills (My dad has this ability to decode things about people).

Dear Diary, I need an advice, I need comforting and I need my life back.

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