Story-Story

Freedom at Last. What a Life!

The dire outburst threw me out of a supposed sound sleep that faithful morning. As I curiously tailed the noise to the passage, she breezed past me with the speed of light, screaming, he followed after her with a stick and yelling

“I will kill you today” the rage in his voice sounded like a cauldron of boiling water waiting to be unleashed. She threw herself into his room, slammed the door against him and bolted it.

He stood banging at the door and threatening to pull it down if she didn’t unlock the bolt. “Ma pa fun mi ooo!” his old mom yelled.

His siblings tried to pacify and eschew him from the sight of the already converging crowd, but he became unruly to them. His brother had to exchange fists to get the stick from him, it was then he became calm, and the crowd gradually dispersed, the women returned back to cooking.

Lo, It was their wedding day. Food was already boiling hot on fire at the backyard. Shouldn’t it have been a day of euphoria? Shouldn’t it have been a day to mark their beginning of bliss?

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These were the questions that rattled my young mind. I look back in retrospect and still can not phantom what led the duo into such deluge.

They eventually got married that day, though not as elaborate as preconceived. He furnished a room to himself in his mom’s house, after he was sacked from his pastoral office for countless controversies and became jobless.

He resorted to living on his mom, siblings and well-wishers for survival. The abuse deepened severely as he constantly vented his frustrations on his wife, she became battered emotionally, psychologically, physically. Sometimes her scream would wake the entire neighborhood, dead in the night.

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Severally she had passed the night in our room. He was not an alcoholic nor a drug addict, he was just a quotidian monster who had subjected himself to a life of misery and irresponsibility.She could not speak out to her siblings because they vehemently opposed her settling into that hell of a marriage. She did all sorts of menial jobs to take care of her children and her beast of a husband who was jobless and prodigiously irresponsible.

As I write this, I still ask myself, what really persuaded her to continue in that misery called marriage? Could it be love, obsession, hypnotism, or mere stupidity? Only a seer can reveal.It was at a time rumored that the third child and only male of their four children, isn’t from his loins.

He was gravely enraged when the news fused into his hearing. Although there was no concrete proof to back it up, but she bore the brunt of his anger on her body.

Many years had passed since we moved out of that house, yet the abuse did not end. She passed from being pleasant in disposition to being grotesque. The torture has been severe with physical bruises and patches all over her body, and three years ago, she passed on, after an intense battle with breast cancer.

She is gone! Yes, gone! Should one say freedom at last? Freedom from constant beating, abuse, and all manner of torture? or freedom from Hades of this life? Peace at last? Marriage ought to be blissful and to be enjoyed. That is God’s stipulation, but hers was a hell, a monumental disaster! She never for once experienced an ounce of peace.

Their children are all doing well in school and their first child just passed out of high school. As for the man, he is still his usual self, never changed a bit.

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