I’m thankful, that you have showed me
how weak I’d been but I’d never admit.
I’m grateful, for I comprehend how much I owe you,
for making me learn to turn my curse to a tool.
I appreciate the fact, you never wished me good,
for all the inflictions you put me thru’,
for you thought you only belittled a fool
but the more you hit, the stronger I grew.
I’m thankful, for your cheerless grim.
Without it I wouldn’t have been able to see
and know what peace my imaginations could bring,
neither would I have known, I’m all I needed to be me.
I’m thankful, for being there to provide necessary harassment,
when I brood in pain and whine in silence.
I’m thankful to you, for upholding my turbulence
and making me discover, the strength in silence.
Written by: Oluwadamilola 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
I am at the peak of my youth
A beautiful broken woman
An emotionally devoid woman
An irreparable damage has been done
A life threatening and colossal damage
A damage that cannot be compensated
They hurt me
They hurt me terribly
That day has been forever engraved into my memory
Oh! On that cursed day
My parents had turned their backs on me
Telling me tradition demands it
Tradition? I asked, laughing hysterically
Which tradition? What tradition?
What cruel tradition destroys the dream of a young woman?
I cried, I almost ran out of tears
My heart-wrenching sobs almost made my heart stop beating
The excruciating pain almost made me stop breathing
I have just an identity left now
I am the woman with a broken dream
A victim of Female Genital Mutilation
Bearing the brunt of tradition demand
I will never be the same again.
Written by OKUSUN MERCY