Not
long after that, I was home in the morning sorting out clothes for the dry
cleaner. I always checked the pockets of every cloth before passing them on to
be washed. I found something in one of Baba T’s pants; I brought it out and it
was some kind of polythene bag package. It was tied up so I opened it; it contained
a white powdery substance, just like what I saw him snorting a while
back. I decided to investigate and find out what it was so I took it and hid it.
When
my husband got back from work, he started to look for something. He almost
turned the room upside down. I asked what he was looking for and he told me not
to worry about it. He was so agitated and angry…he later asked if I had seen
his blue pants, the one he wore to work two days earlier. I told him I gave
them to the drycleaner…it was as if my response was the passcode to the inner
chambers of hell.
“Who told you to give my clothes to the
drycleaner?”
“Why didn’t you ask me before giving my
clothes to the drycleaner?”
“What kind of stupid person gives other
people’s stuff out without asking them first?” he started to rant and yell
“Why do I need your permission to take dirty
clothes to the drycleaner?
Is this the first time I am taking clothes to the
drycleaner?” I asked him
The
response I got was a dirty slap…it felt like a dream. I must have passed out
for a couple of seconds because when I came round, I was on the floor and I couldn’t remember
how I got there. The sharp pain on my left cheek confirmed that it was reality.
I
wanted to say something but there was blood in my mouth…besides, Baba T had
this wild look and I didn’t want to push my luck. Even with my silence, he
still pushed me out of his way and in the process, I broke the mirror on the
wall while struggling for balance. I had a cut on my left elbow. He left the
house and did not even bother to see if I was wounded or not. It was our house
help who had heard the shattering of the mirror that rushed in to see what was
happening. She helped me up and asked what happened…I told her I tripped and
had to struggle not to hit my head on the mirror.
I tried to hide what happened
from her, but I couldn’t hide my tears or the mark on my face. She got some
iodine and bandage to stop the bleeding. She asked if she should call the driver
to take me to the hospital. I told her not to worry about it…so she helped to
clean the room and carried my baby, who was crying after all the commotion. I
was just glad that Junior was with Baba T’s parents and he did not witness it.
I
had heard stories of women beaten up by their husbands but I never thought I
would ever be a victim. I wasn’t sure of what to do; I didn’t want to call my
mother-in-law because of the “I told you
so” gloating that could come from it.
As hurt as I was, I still wanted to
know what that substance was…as a matter of fact, Baba T’s reaction made me
more interested in the quest. I called Laide but nobody picked up, I figured
she was not at home.
I
was getting ready to leave the house when Baba T came back, he looked very mad,
he dragged me from the sitting room into the room and did not care that the
house help was there.
Supposedly, he had gone to our drycleaner to check with
them and was told that “madam always checks and empties pockets before giving
the clothes to us”. He choked me and said he would kill me if I didn’t produce
his ‘stuff’…he was like a raving lunatic and was screaming at me. I was so
scared that I quickly told me where I hid it.
“Try this with me again and I will kill you”
he said, as he took the package and left the house again. I knew at that moment
that I was in trouble…I needed to talk to someone.
I
tried Laide’s number again but it was just ringing. I decided to go to her
house but I couldn’t find any of the car keys. There were 3 cars in the
compound but I couldn’t find any of the keys. I also learnt from the house help
that my husband had sent the driver away for the day…so I figured he took the
car keys.
So
I called my mother-in-law and told her what happened…she was too shocked to
even gloat. She said she would send her driver to come get me…I sat there on
the floor, holding my baby until the driver came.
The driver didn’t come alone;
he came with that maid that always gave me the ‘look’. She said my
mother-in-law wanted me to come with some of my stuff and sent her to help with
that. We went inside to pack and I let her carry my son while I got
the things we would need. I couldn’t hide my tears as I was packing, my mouth
was swollen, I had a cut on my hand and I had marks on my neck, the lady didn’t
need to be a genius to figure out what happened.
“Oga Tunde will never change…I thought
getting married would make him better, but a leopard can never change its spots”
the lady said
I
looked up and something in me wanted to yell at her for poking her nose in my
affairs and daring to say such a thing about my husband but my reality made me
indulge her…so I asked what she meant by the statement. The lady said she had
always wanted to talk to me just to let me know what she felt was hidden from
me. She said she saw me as an easygoing person and had always wondered how our
paths crossed
“Auntie, if you truly knew Oga
Tunde, you would not have married him o”.
“Mo sorry o (I’m sorry to say this) sùgbọn ęranko ni man yęn (He is an
animal)”
“Whenever that his drug thing comes upon
him, even his mum cannot get him to calm down” the lady said
“His drug what?” I cut in
“Haba! Auntie, don’t tell me you don’t know that
he is on drugs o…everybody in our house knows” the lady responded
The
lady continued by telling me she had been working for this family for over 10
years and had seen things. She said that as brilliant as Baba T was, his drug
addiction was his undoing and that was why his parents really wanted him to get
married and have children so they could put their hope of a lasting legacy in
the grandchildren. She said the drug he was on, made him destructively angry
and abusive.
“Do you know how many women left him because
of this? Children of big people that left because they could not stand him?
There was a particular case that almost got him in jail, if not for the
connection of his father. He beat the girl to a pulp; we even thought the girl
had died. The girl’s uncle sent soldiers to come and arrest him” the lady
must have sensed that she had said too much as she stopped talking
I
sat there in bewilderment, like someone that was waking up into reality. I
wanted the lady to tell me more but she said she didn’t want to lose her job. I
couldn’t handle what I was hearing so I tried to call Laide again but it was
just ringing. I really didn’t feel like going to my mother-in-law anymore but
the lady encouraged me to go. She said Baba T’s dad was the only one that knew
how to handle him and make him behave and that was why he had to live with them
even as a grown up until he got married.
When
we got to my in-law’s house, my mother-in-law and almost knelt down for me
“Pẹlẹ ọkọ mi, èmi ni mo f’ìyà jęę (I’m
so sorry my dear, this is my fault)” she said
I
was trying to explain what happened, she said I shouldn’t bother to, as she
knew what I was talking about. The lady that came to help me pack gave me a
look suggesting that everything she told me at our house was right. My
mother-in-law quickly sent her away and took me to her room upstairs.
The fact
that I wasn’t allowed to talk, made me cry even more. My mother-in-law just
kept begging me, she promised that her husband would handle it and it would
never happen again. She tried to dance around the facts, blaming Baba T’s
actions on her enemies that want to disgrace her family. She said I should
consider my children and parents-in-law who care for me and ignore whatever
Baba T was doing. I told her blatantly that I knew Baba T was on drugs and I did
not want to be a victim of his rage and violence ever again.
“Now you know what our problem is…your
husband is not a bad guy, I know he is just being manipulated by evil people.
They jinxed him with the addiction, to soil our family name. You have no idea how
far we have gone and the things we have done to help him”
“We are fighting for the same thing
and we should work together to get him all the help he needs. After all, he’s
the father of your children”
She
persuaded me to cover ‘her nakedness’ and keep the family secret…she promised
that her husband would see to it that I never got hit or beaten again. I almost
told her that it wasn’t really a secret, based on what the maid told me but I
didn’t want to get the lady in trouble.
Somehow,
Baba T’s dad was able to ‘fix’ things; my husband apologized to me and even
bought me an expensive gold necklace to say he was sorry. We went back to status
quo, my parents-in-law were in charge again and I felt more like a well-paid
baby maker than a wife. Baba T had to report to his dad at least, once in 2
days…it was working (or so we thought). No erratic behavior, he was doing well
at work and he wasn’t hitting me.
We
did not have that intimacy that you would expect between married couples,
everything seemed forced, programmed and monitored. Baba T was a great father
though; he loved his kids and took good care of them. Laide would see me and
remind me of how beautiful my life was and I would smile…but deep down, I could
trade everything for some happiness.
Living
with my husband was like walking on egg shells…I was constantly watching my
words, my reactions to things, and would never argue with him. Even when he
smiled, I was still scared.
My mum somehow knew I wasn’t happy and all the seeming
good life, vacationing abroad, ‘big man wife’ status was just a charade. Many
times she would ask what was going on but I kept pretending that all was well…I
would tell her not to worry about me and that she should continue to pray that
God should touch my husband.
There
was a time she visited and spent some days; that was when she insisted that she
had to know what was going on. She said she didn’t like what she saw and that
our marriage looked like somebody else had the remote control to it. I told her
my husband was going through some spiritual issues but God was already at work
and all I needed from her, was her prayers.
She stopped fussing about it and
said she would continue to pray for me. Things actually started to get better
maybe because I started to see it from the “You gotta learn to live with
what you are stuck to” perspective. I decided to always make the most of it and
enjoy my husband whenever he was physically/emotionally available. I focused my
attention more on my children and sought for joy in motherhood…I would even
joke that they were my husbands. It was dysfunctional but what could I do? I had
to roll with the punches.
After almost 9 years of marriage to Baba T and 3
children (all boys) to show for it, my father-in-law died. It was totally
unexpected as we still saw him the night before he died. The doctor said it was
due to a heart attack triggered by stress and exhaustion. He was supposed to
travel for medical checkup some months before that, but he rescheduled it
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