I stare at my boss in confusion and sympathy, I have no idea how the accident is related to me or her.
“There are no survivors,” She begins, “It was an head-on collision, apparently the trailer lost control and the driver of the private car was immersed in his iPad, he didn’t see the trailer on his path until it was too late.” She finishes.
I could clearly picture the horrific scene, spilled with blood. I close my eyes in shock as nausea threateningly rises. My unborn baby doesn’t agree with the vivid picture. I part my lips to take in steady breaths, after a few breaths the nausea subsides. I wonder why she is telling me about the accident.
“Deola,” She calls out.
I stare at her response, noting the sympathy in her eyes. I wonder why she feels sympathetic towards me.
“How are you feeling?” She ask. I blink in surprise. “I know you are pregnant,” She answers my unasked question. I smile and lower my eyes in appreciation. The thought of my unborn baby fills me with unexpected joy.
“I don’t know how else to break this news to you,” She begins as apprehension crawls over me. I wait for her to finish, my heart beats fast.
“Your husband was involved in the accident,” my eyes widens uncontrollably. “He didn’t make it.”
I feel the heavy weight of darkness descend upon me and drag me down as I succumb to the tug of helplessness.
“I am so sorry,” I hear the voice say as blackness swallows me and the floor welcomes me.
I walk along the beach, taking a breath of freshness. The past few months have been hectic and frighteningly unbearable.
I lost the baby a few weeks after Lanre’s burial. It was a double blow… losing my husband and baby within a few weeks. I went easily from being a married woman to a widow.
His parents whirled me away for a much needed vacation after the truth came tumbling into light.
Tears slips down my face as I think about how my life would have turned if Lanre had lived.
Would we still be together or divorced? Would our baby have brought the healing we both needed?
Regrets burn as I thought about the words I never said to him… the silent words that revolved around my head. Maybe, it’s for good.
I continue my leisure stroll along the deserted beach as the sun sets slowly.
#Chronicles of an abused wife.
#Written by Mercy Okusun
I am still reeling from the shock as the car speeds along the busy expressway, he hasn’t glanced at me once ever since the car moved in motion. The car begins to slow down as traffic looms ahead. He mutters in anger, while I desperately will him to look at me and pray I don’t start crying.
“This is your fault, you know” he says, as the car halts and is put into neutral, along with other commercial and private cars in traffic. I couldn’t believe the words that has just left his mouth, nor his nonchalant attitude towards his earlier assault.
“Lanre,” I call out, anger lacing my voice. He has his attention concentrated on his iPad, typing away and ignoring me. The traffic begins to move swiftly, he drops the iPad on the dashboard, put the car into drive and eased out of traffic.
I look away from him and relax into my seat when I realized that the apology I have been expecting wouldn’t be forthcoming. I sigh deeply and place my hand protectively over my stomach-housed unborn baby…what kind of home would I be bringing my child into?
We arrive at my place of work, without having a conversation of any kind all through the drive. I take a glance at him one last time before getting out of the car. He stares straight ahead, a frown marring his forehead. I close the car door harder than I intended and walk away without a backward glance.
I feel queasy and I know the incident earlier is responsible for my queasiness. I get to my office, hurry to my seat behind my desk and gladly sink into the cushioned seat. I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
I realize I should never have married him… oh! The shame had made me cave into marriage with him. I had promised myself that I was going to get married to first man I would have any sexual relationship with, no matter what. Although, this isn’t the picture I had painted about my marriage.
What would I do now? He has become unpredictable and violent. I am scared for myself and unborn child. Who do I turn to for help? A knock at the door brings me out of my reverie. I quickly switch on my desktop before answering “come in.”
The Branch Manager of the company walked into my office. Closing the door behind her, she stood by the door staring at me.
“Good morning,” I greet cheerfully. The elderly woman gives me a wan smile and walks slowly to my desk. I start to rise, but she stills my effort by shaking her head. She remains quiet for a while and fear starts to claw its way through my gut when she says,
“I am so sorry,”
I blink in amidst confusion and fear… fear that I may be about to lose my job.
I close my eyes in resignation, and lean back into my seat. I wait for her to deliver the fatal blow that would take me away from the career and company I love.
I didn’t wait for long when she says,
“There has been an accident.”
#Chronicles of an abused wife.
#Written by Mercy Okusun
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
Episode 2Three months later
We have been married for over two months now and — I just found out I’m pregnant, the obvious result of the rape.
God, I feel so ashamed. My voyage as a wife has been bumpy and humiliating.
He repulses me now, every time he tries to touch me I feel like throwing up — the baby could be the reason behind it though. I dread telling him about my pregnancy because I don’t know how he would react.
He usually has this spell of black moods, it is ill-advised to go close to him when he is in that mood.
He has been possessive ever since we got married, sometimes, he is charming and attentive. He thinks I would go file a complaint at the police station or human right activist.
I chortled at that thought; who would believe a husband raped his wife? You are shocked too, right?
I burst out in laughter before realizing I was in the conference room with some potential clients, I blinked rapidly and the laughter died down suddenly as I felt curious eyes on me.
This was not the time to unleash my domestic problem, I realized. I cleared my throat and gathered my thoughts into the domestic folder in my head. I smiled at my clients to ease the tension and curiosity buzzing within the conference room.
I know as you read this, you are wondering who I am.
My name is Adeola Janet Aderemi, now Mrs. Adeola Janet Coker. I am married to one of the youngest CEO in the country.
Olanrewaju Coker is his name. Lanre, as he is popularly called, is the only son and child of Senator Coker and Mrs. Coker. I smile wistfully as I reminisce a little about the man I fell in love with.
Lanre is over 6 ft. tall, with alert light brown eyes. He has a pointed nose which suits his long face and naturally red colored bow lips which compliments his fair skin.
His black curly hair gave away his Caucasian descendant. I can’t decide if it was love at first sight, especially with the circumstance.
Most ladies wish to be in my position, I would gladly trade my position as his wife with any lady.
I never wish to relive the incident. The incident which has led to a pregnancy — wanted or unwanted?
I sigh mournfully, the darkness of the incident threatens to swallow me. How do I broach the subject with him?
Would I find him in a cheerful mood tonight? Does he have to know? Or should I keep the secret to myself, but for how long?
I resolve within myself to tell him…he has to know. Tonight.
#Diary of an abused Wife
Written by Okusun Mercy
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