Dear partner, you’ve got an exquisite soul,
You are worth much more than you allow yourself to know
There’s something you’re brewing, but scared to show,
Heights you have to reach, but scared to grow.
what makes you think you know so much about me,
You’re merely a voice in me, a lifeless being,
All you can observe is my inward ability
Don’t you have any idea how the strength abates in me.
I’m more than you think, though lifeless I seem
The presure outside is no match for what you bear within
You shouldn’t abolish your foremost belief,
And please remember, we’re together in this.
Please spare me the stories, where the hell have you been
At those times when committing suicide was all I could think
When the pain inside got to the brink,
Parasite, where have you been?
I shared your pains, every single one felt
If that isn’t true you’d probably be dead,
We survived it even when t’was too much to bear,
Don’t you see reasons why you shouldn’t give it up here.
I discovered you at that moment, I gave it all up
You’re late, though you claim to have known for long
I wish I had a choice, I’d rather be unborn,
But you’re late anyway, ’cause I’m dead, I’m gone.
Written by: Oluwadamilola David yusuf
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
Life pierces my soul with questions that need no answers
When smiles go sour around the edges…It is time to read reason’s pages.
Is it to be spilled like rain water,this thing they call blood??
Life doesn’t give tutorials, Everyday is a core course…Her session is always running; cycle
Hide me somewhere in-between the tree and its bark…Find me a seat between the living and the dead.
I need that ‘getaway car’ to flee my pain…When the grave is the hotel,the bill is on the earth.
When Agony calls by..Happiness goes for a sleep-over
When life becomes too expensive,we long for her brother.
Written by: Daodu, Deji Cornelius
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
The proposal came unexpectedly, I am still reeling from the proposal shock. I can’t believe it…I choose not to believe it.
The white gold engagement ring, which felt heavy on my finger, is the stark proof that he did propose to me.
My younger sisters have been “ooh-ing” and “aah-ing” over the engagement ring.
If only they knew!
It has indeed been a night of utter surprise, who knew a date night would turn into a proposal night. My mother can’t stop beaming, as her first child and daughter, she is excited to know that I am getting married.
As I stare at her smiling face, it dawned on me that I haven’t seen my mother smile in a while, since she lost her husband, my father. Her infectious laughter threatens to contaminate me, but I refuse to celebrate in this sham engagement.
My mother noticed I wasn’t smiling, she raises her eyebrow in question at me, and I shrugged in reply. I gave her a little smile and looked down at my finger where the ostentatious ring rested. The ring seems to be mocking me, it seems to say: this is the price for your silence.
The humiliation burns as the images threatens to erupt, I close my eyes to prevent it. I am not strong enough, the images spills from my memory and flashes across as tears rolled down my face.
“Deola” I heard my mother’s soft worried voice call out to me.
“Are you alright?” she asked in concern, I opened my eyes and our gazes locked. I saw concern in her brown eyes, she looked worried and scared. I parted my lips to speak, but no sound came forth.
How do I explain? How do I tell her? I asked myself these questions as her worried eyes roved over my face. My younger sisters had been alerted to my present state and I watched their happiness dim slowly.
“Sister Deola, are you alright?” Bisola, the youngest, asked. I sighed and closed my eyes in shame.
How do I tell them?
How do I tell my mother that her future son-in-law…
… Raped me.
#Diary of an Abused Wife.
Written by Okusun Mercy.
There was a deafening silence in the room after Mrs Ogunleye’s utterance. Bosun gasped as her eyes widened in shock. Deji burst out in laughter, his Mother joined him. “You are joking” Deji said suddenly, the laughter suddenly gone from his eyes, Bosun felt her husband’s muscles tense and flex in anger. She sat up quickly as a wave of nausea swept over her, Deji stared at her briefly in concern then returned his attention back to his Mother.
“Mami, why?” He asked tiredly as he sat back again. “What do you mean WHY?” his Mother began angrily, “You still dare to ask me why? You know perfectly well the answer to that question” she finished, turning to the dark skinned lady, “Go and greet your husband, Bimpe” she said. Bimpe stood and walked over to them, kneeled before Deji, she smiled brightly. Bosun suddenly bolted from the room, “Bosun!!!” Deji called after her fleeing figure.
“Heeeeeeeeeey!!!! make una help me oooooo !!!!!” A man’s shout filled the air, people began to gather at the bank of the river, as he carried out an unconscious woman from the river and laid her gently on the sandy bank. There were murmurs amongst the onlookers.
“she don die?” A passerby asked, “see as dis fine woman just don waste her life” another one said in sympathy. “Excuse me” An elderly man called out, the gathering crowd parted to make way for him. He was dressed in a blue starched shirt and charcoal black trousers, he had a stethoscope dangling from his neck.
“I am a doctor, please give us a little breathing room” he announced with authority. He squatted beside the unconscious woman, he checked if she was breathing and performed CPR on her. She coughed and sputtered water after a few minutes, the gathered crowd sighed with relief. “Can you hear me?” The doctor asked her, “ Can you open your eyes?” He got a nod as her response, “I’m going to take you to the hospital” He told her, she muttered, “I didn’t get that” the doctor said, she muttered again, the doctor bent his head close to her mouth to catch her muttering.
“Deji” she muttered again.
Deji stood up from the bed suddenly, he thought he had heard his name being called. He was worried sick, Bosun hadn’t returned home, it was unlike her to stay out late, he stared at the wall clock, 7:30pm. He sighed and sat on the bed, he took a look around the room, it was exactly just the same way he had left it in the morning, he smiled because he knew his wife was such a neat person.
The ringing of his phone broke into his thoughts, Deji stretched and picked his phone off the bedside table, he stared at the phone screen, It was an unfamiliar number. He hesitated, swiped the screen and said “Hello?”. He paused as he listened, “which hospital?” He asked tensely, “I’ll be there” he finished. He pulled the phone away from his ear and closed his eyes, “Oh Lord, I’m sorry” he began as he prayed.
“Please, let her be live and I promise to be the best husband, keep her alive for me Lord” he finished. He opened his eyes, stood up and fished his car keys out of his pocket, he hurried out of the bedroom.
To be continued!!!!!!!!
She is a virgin land, untouched, an Island
I, a preying hawk, came close
Like the British, I came to exploit
She kept me like Odyssey
I made abode in her heart; Robinson Crusoe
Torn between worlds like the Persian prince
Like Frost, I should have left the road untaken
I am Atlas and she, my eternal weight
Simplicity was the bait
Headstrong like Aries
She cooled it like winter winds
My plans now unfurled
The Loki in me contained
Getting stuck was never my goal
But this lady has stuck to my soul.
Written by Deji Daodu