Episode 3Four days later
Staring at my reflection in the full length dressing mirror, I smile sheepishly. Oh! What a wonderful morning, a morning that has indeed come with joy.
My eyes rove over my reflection in the mirror and I have to admit I love what I see.
The night I told him about the pregnancy was an emotional night. He stared at me in shock when I first broke the news to him, he didn’t blink nor utter any word, the next instant he burst into tears and knelt before me.
I was flagger basted, that obviously wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. He wrapped his arms around my waist and apologized earnestly. I couldn’t resist asking him the question that has been on my mind since that awful night.
Why did you rape me? I asked him He bowed his head in shame and couldn’t meet my eyes…he was quiet for a while that I thought he had fallen asleep. He gave a shuddery sigh before speaking, without looking at me.
“I know you won’t believe me but I have never raped a lady before” he began, in his accent that I love so much. “I don’t know what came over me that night and I just knew I had to make you mine.” He finished.
“Remember when you told me that the only man to sleep with you would be your husband?” he asked me, I nodded slowly, I didn’t think he would remember the conversation we had in our early relationship days.
“I was scared you would turn me down when I ask you to marry me” he said softly, I placed my left hand on his shoulder, willing him to look at me. “I want this baby, Deola” he said, I smiled when I heard his pronunciation of my name, Di-oh-la. He kissed my stomach and I couldn’t help but feel touched.
Staring at my reflection while I recall that night, made me smile. There has been in a change in him after that night, he has become the man I fell in love with. Oh! I feel like his wife now.
He has been attentive to me, even taking time out of his busy schedule to have lunch with me at my office. Last night, he confided that he hopes the baby is a girl, a baby girl that would look just like me. I giggled at his flattery.
Our marriage really began after that night…I smiled as I turned away from the mirror and walked across the room to turn off the air conditioner.
I heard the blast of the car honk and exclaimed. He had been waiting for me in the car. I hurriedly turned off the light switch, picked up my hand bag and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
I realized the rain was drizzling as soon as I walked out the front door, I walked hurriedly to the car park and got into his car. He turned his attention away from his iPad and gave me a cold stare. I smiled in return, hoping to ease the tension.
It all happened in a daze, he lifted his left hand and gave me a slap across my cheek.
I stared at him in shock, ‘You kept me waiting’ was all he said, before he reversed out of the car park and drove out of the gate.
Written by: Okusun Mercy
I knew I wasn’t deceived when you touched my left cheek.
I felt the warmth of blood from your soft fingertips,
I saw an angel though you were just a lady,
Brother you are lost, my mind silently told me.
I had found earlier no relevant thing,
Just trees and dead leaves that roamed freely.
The thought of being lost stirred thick within me,
I couldn’t prevent my head in confusion from ringing.
Your eyes posses such a wonderful gleam,
You ought to be special, a supernatural being.
At an attempt to offer a passionate kiss,
The couch shook and interrupted the blissful dream.
Written by: Oluwadamilola David Yusuf
Good evening beautiful people. I trust your day turned out well?
Here’s a little something I’ve had in the archives for sometime now.
‘They’ robbed your barns, no one talked
Your tears were public, demanding justice
Everyone heard but none listened
So you stayed your tears and held your peace
Kings and chiefs, one after another shelved your case
With the passage of time, famine came along and You turned to the tree of memory
And served bowls of livid meals with a pinch bitterness
This is my song but dance isn’t a must
And if you must dance then let the dust carry your fury
Let the earth know your rage
The drums ‘they’ played is ever resounding in the archives, resonating in aggrieved minds
This is my song and you know it too well.
Written by: Daodu Deji Cornelius
Witty Quill 2017.
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I feel the threat of tears rise again.
My face! I thought solemnly. I look down at the array of make-up lined up on my dressing table and I realized that no quantity or quality of make-up can cover a swollen half closed eye, a split lower lip and a broken nose.
I shuddered painfully.I raise my left hand, devoid of my wedding ring, to touch my swollen eye but, I end up wincing as the sharp pain in my ribs reminds me of his shoes’ brutality.
My reflection is distorted…shattered…battered.
I sigh mournfully as I make an attempt to sit on my bed, recalling last night’s incident.
He had returned late in his black mood, ignored my welcome greeting.
I usually stay away from him whenever he is in this state.
An innocent question of “would you prefer jollof rice or efo riro and wheat?” had turned his anger on me.
I didn’t back away fast enough, his fisted hand connected with my nose and I heard a crack.
Unconsciously, I yelled out in pain. The sound seemed to have fueled his anger.
Ten hours later, I am staring at the results of my husband’s black mood and I wish I could be anywhere but here. Save me please!
#diary of an abused wife
Written by Okusun Mercy
Two blackbirds trying to fit in amidst doves
Violating the boundaries of Marxism
Harsh tags stuck as foul mouths took turns
Seeking to make us martyrs of our vows
We’ll make them listen again and hear our pain
The tunes they danced to now soberly
The world has never heard our duet
Life is our cage and time has come to fly away.
Written by: Daodu Deji Cornelius
Witty Quill 2017•
She was slipping, drowning in oblivion
She called out for help in whispers
When I grabbed her hands I relived her horrors
When she clung unto me, she became my soul
I saw all of her and she saw me
Her tears nourished my humane leftovers
Our tune was private, mystic
Plain and simple yet none could decipher it.
Written by: Daodu Deji
The crowd was deaf, choosing only to savor its feel
Her soul forked by past failures, engraved on her soul by her mother who always wanted first place
The cameras lit her face but not her pain
The Press couldn’t shoot her trauma
Her heavy eyes graced magazines
I saw invisible scars on her pretty face
Written by: Daodu Deji