The Batterer is NOT a Monster

At least he wasn't born a monster- something, someone, a series of happenings made him that way. Once upon a time, a long long time ago, before the series of events that led to his being labelled "batterer" he was an innocent baby, whose smile made a mother's heart race. Abuse is a learned behaviour, this singular fact is the reason we have hope for batterers, that which is learned can be unlearned. This post is aimed at exploring likely reasons why our sweet child became monstrous.





The most common reason you'll find is that most men who batter have been exposed to domestic violence as children. They have had to watch mummy accept and endure violence as daddy abused her, they have been victims of child abuse, they have learned to express powerful emotions in destructive ways, they have been raised to be the 'man', that is, to be in control.

Generally speaking, boys detest their fathers for hitting their mother. At younger ages, they wish the violence will stop when they are not feeling they are probably to blame for the violence. As they get older they fantasize about defending their mothers, and some actually do live out these fantasies. Then they make personal pledges never to hit a woman, never to hit their wives. They promise themselves and sometimes others, that they would never hit a woman, ever.Not all of them live up to these promises. In truth, plenty of them do not.

 Having learned from their fathers the way to treat a woman, they may not know how not to hit the women that come into their lives. It is therefore safe to say that spousal abuse is passed down from generation to generation.

Boys who have learned to express their emotions in destructive ways will become men who express emotions in destructive ways. Daddy gets angry, he lashes out, it could be at mum or at the kids, it doesn't matter. He is the king of the jungle and all must walk on egg shells around him. This is the man raising our sweet little child, this is the toxic environment our boy is growing up in. It is therefore very important that parents learn to express their emotions in healthy ways. Lashing out on a child out of anger isn't punishment, it is abuse. You are teaching him to also lash out when things do not go his way.

Our sweet boy is all grown up now but sweet isn't the first adjective that comes to mind when you ask his wife to tell about him, though it may be the first that comes to her lips as she fakes a smile. This is not what this man wants for his wife, he doesn't want his family to be like the one he was raised in. But he doesn't know a better way to express his emotions. He is not a monster, he just needs help unlearning the violent behaviour.

Speaking Out -concluding part

My father abused my mother in every sense of the word. He abused her physically, financially, emotionally, sexually and verbally (loudly too). I promised myself I wouldn’t take abuse from any man. I also promised myself I’ll grow up to help abused women get help. So when Joe hit me at first I was beyond mortified. He knew my dream of having a shelter home for the abused, he knew I always say that when man as much as raises his hand even if he didn’t land it on his target, the target should leave the man and not look back. But I didn’t leave. I wanted to but I didn’t. It happened at past midnight, I was standing close to the rest room when the first slap landed and I found myself on the bathroom floor sitting next to the bathtub. I spilled lots of water when I was landing, guess I was trying to hold the bucket for support. The spilled water further aggravated him and he started pounding away mercilessly. He’d hit me on my left cheek and the right side of my head will bang against the bath tub. By the time he was done, I was certain my skull had fractured because the headache was terrible, worse than terrible. My younger sister who was with my kids in their room when the hitting was going on took me to the hospital across the street. I had joined her in the kids’ room after the episode, but I was complaining of the ache in my head, she had to do something after about 90minutes of nonstop complain. The doctor said my skull was fine but my blood pressure was above the roof and that’s why I have the ache. She did tell me to be a better wife to avoid such incidents. We were back home by 3am and I tried sleeping but couldn’t. At about 5am, I heard movement in the bedroom and knew he was awake, I went in, sat next to him and asked what happened? Why did he hit me? What made him so angry? I really didn’t know. He didn’t answer me. Then I told him it was over, I’m leaving with my kids. I waited till like 6am called his elder sister, my elder brother, my mother, his best friend and told them that he wanted to kill me. His sister asked me to come over so we’ll talk; it was a last Saturday of the month so there wasn’t movement until 10am. As soon as it was 10am, I went to a close barber shop and shaved my hair, then I went to sisters and she allowed her to calm me down. She summoned him and set him straight too. But what I didn’t know then is that once the flood gates are opened it pours. About five or six months later, I had an argument with his brother who was in the house with us then, while we were at each other he called me to the room and asked me to let it go. But the argument was about an issue I had been letting go of and couldn’t anymore. I opened my mouth to explain how I felt and in what seemed like a millisecond he was off the bed and had given me four resounding slaps. He stopped when I said; “Joe, my kids are here”. It was a Sunday afternoon. This time I didn’t make any phone calls, I realize now as I write that I called all those people that first time around because I wasn’t quite strong enough to leave so I needed someone to talk me into staying. Next day I got my kids ready and dropped them at school, he was satisfied that things are normal so he got ready and left for work (he usually leaves before 6am but he stayed until around 10am). As soon as he left, I got my stuff and my kids’ stuff together picked them from school and we left for Jos city.

It may sound like I left early but I didn’t. When I should have left was about 2 months into the relationship when he started showing me that my opinion doesn’t matter, when he started taking control of my mind, control of me. I wish I knew then what I know now. I didn’t even know that he was “being controlling”, I didn’t know anything about that then.

I also didn’t know I had what is generally referred to as “daddy issues”. This is why I was unable to stay without being in a relationship, young as I was then. I craved to be wanted, to be loved and needed. I was extremely needy too. I needed to be needed. I needed a male in my life. A relationship to fill the void created by my emotionally (physically too) absent father. I was damaged but I didn’t know it. Joe was damaged too. He had abandonment issues and also needed to be needed and loved. He was emotionally dwarfed too.  We were at the same level emotionally; two halves do not make a one in the marriage institution. I must add that it isn’t wrong or unhealthy to want to be loved, it’s natural and completely healthy.

Another important thing we need to learn is how to receive. A lot of us do not know how to receive without wanting to give back or trying to earn it. Recall I mentioned that I let Joe play with my boobs because I thought he earned that much. I felt I needed to earn his love and niceness. So I paid with my boobs at first, but the price kept getting higher. This is also important in our relationship with God. God loves us, simple as that. A lot of us are still trying to earn His love; a love that He has already freely given to us. I read somewhere (can’t remember where) that our relationship with our earthly father determines to some extent our relationship with God. While this cannot be true in 100% of cases, it is true in plenty. If you grew up in a home where you are constantly trying to earn daddy’s approval and love, you tend to translate this into your relationship with God and your boyfriend/fiancé/husband. You grow up in a home where the father is unapproachable and radiates fear; you tend to see God as such too. Our earthly father is a first example we have of what a father is and our perception of him tends to affect our perception of God. Some of us are lucky and have good Christian background and teaching but a lot of us still have a strained relationship with God. Some still find it difficult to accept God’s love, God’s forgiveness when we’ve erred and some are unable to connect with God on a personal level. But knowledge brings about liberation. God loves us deeply and seek to connect with us individually and intimately. This is important because it is impossible for you to go wrong if you relate to and hear from God concerning every issue including your love life.

Speaking Out -Part 2

One of the biggest contributors to domestic violence is lack of self acceptance. We’ve all heard that men beat up their wives because they lack a healthy self esteem. But a woman with a good self esteem will not end up with a man that lacks it. The thing here is that knowing something generally is easy but knowing these things on a personal level and applying it to self isn’t as easy. We all know that a good self worth is necessary but a lot of us still walk around with dwarfed self esteem. The saying, “water seeks its own level” is so true. So here is the first thing you need to do, work on your ‘self worth’ and self acceptance. Learn to accept yourself, love yourself and above all have a healthy relationship with yourself. Remember that until you have a healthy relationship with you, you may not be able to have one with a fellow person nor with God. (I recommend a book “how to succeed at being yourself” by Joyce Meyer). You become more difficult to manipulate when you know thyself.

Months and plenty sex later, me and Joe were going strong, then one day, he attacked and almost beat up a complete stranger. I can’t remember the exact happenings but I remember that the violent reaction was totally not necessary and I told him so. Now people with controlling personality do not like to be wrong. When they are, its best you don’t point it out to them, they don’t want to hear it. So when I voiced my thoughts about his reactions, he completely shut me down. That was the first of many shut downs. Voicing my disagreement or contrary opinions is usually not acceptable; I found that I gradually disagreed less and less with his decisions. He was gradually taking control of my mind, my thought system. It was easy because I didn’t completely have a full appreciation of my worth, so I was happy to let another person define me. Over the years and into the marriage, his favourite meals became mine too. So were his favourite books, people, lifestyle, etc. I even went as far as smoking with him. He was in control. When we had a fight, we don’t talk about it because he doesn’t want to talk about it, we just pretend it didn’t happen and this was draining me emotionally. There are a lot of things I didn’t like and wanted to talk about but I couldn’t. If you do not know and appreciate who you are, if you do not take the time and make the effort to be a full person, if you leave it up to a relationship to define you, he will help define you and make you his puppet. Years and two kids later, that was exactly what I became. 

Another reason women end up with monsters is the strain society has put on us. Get to a certain age, get married, OR ELSE! One day, sometime in 2012 on facebook, I wished a friend happy birthday via her inbox, she replied saying she is now 24years old and people will start looking at her “one kain” because she is still single. No, she wasn’t kidding. The pressure we women allow the society to put on our shoulders is enormous. I said allow because we can decide not to be put under this pressure. Back when I was in Jos in 2011, (after my divorce), I had a friend we will refer to as Violet. Violet has everything going good for her. She was 28, beautiful, recently graduated and dating a guy as hot as Morris Chestnut, (we’ll refer to him as Morris cause of his looks). As long as Violet knew, her search for her better half was over. It didn’t matter that Morris chose her friends, spends her money, cheats on her and resets her brain once in a while with a slap or two. He was going to marry her and that was enough for her. Her family liked him (the side of him they knew) his family adored her. One time, he beat her up so badly she was hospitalized and unable to open her left eye for days. When I asked what happened, she told me she’s been in a bike accident, this is same story she fed his family members (her family wasn’t in Jos but his was quite close to her). His mother was sending meals her way, his sisters were taking turns to spend time with her and do her chores, Morris was available to bath her and reassure her of his undying love. This was after he had told her that the next time she repeats her actions he would use acid to redesign her face. I found out the truth about the accident and asked her why she was still in the relationship. She said she can’t start over meeting someone new and building a fresh relationship, she wasn’t getting any younger and besides he wouldn’t be jealous if he didn’t love her. Don’t marry for any of these reasons, please. Being single isn’t leprosy and marriage isn’t some cure. Violet is married now, she didn’t marry Morris. He went away for NYSC and the relationship ended.

I always say that marriage is a union between two whole persons not two halves. It is one plus one to give one, not half plus half to give one. If you are a half, you have no business getting married, chances are that you will end up attracting a similar half and may end up with two kids, divorce papers and a child custody suit. Nobody wants that. The problem is that plenty of us do not want to do what it takes to build up ourselves; we want to wait for “Sir Galahad” to come sweep us off our feet and fix us. We get attracted to his chivalry, his domineering personality and the way he seem to take charge of everything. We fall in love with the fact that he takes care of everything and help us decide what goes where. We marry him and then we complain that he wants to control everything. We complain about the very traits that got us swooning at the beginning. Marriage isn’t a quick fix or a short cut to happiness. Make sure you are all fixed up, happy and in love with yourself before you even consider marriage.

In 2007, Bauchi, service year my neigbour and friend lost her son, he died as a result of persistent stooling. She was also living with an abusive man. He doesn’t go 24 hours without abusing her with words that cut deeper than knives. Then when it seems like the scars on her are fading, he beats her up over again to refresh them. This woman was the gentlest of souls. She begs, apologizes, kneels to appease him, etc. There was absolutely no reason on earth why her husband should hit her. She will stay away from her beauty shop for days simply because he orders it, no other reason. His words were gold and law. When their almost two years old son Bitrus started stooling nonstop, she started him on oral drip (to be honest she wasn’t too faithful with the therapy), the day she mentioned hospital to her husband, he said something like, “hospital, because of say him dey shit?” and that was it, hospital was ruled out until it was too late. By the third day, Bitrus was already too pale and too weak; he passed out before his mother got him to the hospital. The doctors were unable to revive him. Before this incident, I asked Mama Bitrus why she stays on with this man. She had a growing beauty salon; she is beautiful and easily likeable. Her reasons for staying are similar to a lot I’ve heard/read about. What will people say? My family warned me about him but I insisted on him. They will laugh at me. Needless to say, Bitrus’ death brought about the end of his parent’s marriage. Don’t stay in an abusive marriage because of what society will say, the stakes are too high; your daughters are more likely to end up with abusive husbands, your sons will likely turn out to be like your husband. 

to be continued...

Speaking Out, Part 1

This is a post about Domestic violence (DV). I know we’ve seen a lot of them lately and I think it’s a good thing we have. True enough, the stories and horrors have made a lot of singles question their desire to get married someday. While some have voiced their fears, others have wondered in silence. But the increase in awareness and reporting of domestic violence is an answer is the prayers of many, mine inclusive. I believe a lot of women have been encouraged to voice out, seek help and even step out of life threatening relationships as a result of the numerous posts on this subject.

While this post will contain seemingly horrifying accounts of violence it will also be educating. I will be sharing stories about myself, my friends and neighbors. Every story in this post is true, names used wouldn’t be the real names. At the end of what may be a relatively long read, the message this post intends to pass is this; “love yourself enough and you will not settle for a violent person”

I was helping a boy out with his English language; he was to answer questions following a passage on AIDS. He said he didn’t quite understand the passage and I was happy to read and explain the passage to him. I had earlier that day commented on a post on a Facebook saying that I’ll be sharing my story and I’ll focus on how to avoid marrying into violence, so I was already thinking about DV. While reading the passage, it occurred to me that AIDS has a lot of similarities with DV. They are both pandemics, they both fester and breed in secrecy, people like to hide that they are living with it and society tend to stigmatize those who are bold enough to fess up. And no matter how much we talk about and educate people on either of these two pandemics it can never be too much.

First thing you should know about potential violent husbands is that they are manipulative. I have had series of relationships before I met my ex husband (we’ll hence forth refer to him as Joe for the purpose of this post), many of them lasted a week or two, some a little more. I knew I deserve to have as good as the next person but I did not have a relationship with myself. I find that I was always in a relationship with one boy or the other. I was wise enough to dump any guy that wasn’t treating me right but I didn’t know how to survive outside a relationship. Oh, and by “not treating me right”, I mean the guy wants to kiss, touch and have sex with me. By my definition then, as long as he isn’t pressuring me for sex, he is a keeper. In my defense, I was really young then (less than 19years) and I was living in Abuja hostel of the University of Jos. When I met Joe, he was so different from all the others. For those of you that know Abuja hostel boys of 2001-2003(I speak for the time I know), they toast you on Monday, buy you coke on Tuesday, invite you to their room on Wednesday. You go to their room hoping that this guy is different from the last (told you I was almost dumb, did I?), then he offers to buy you a drink, you say No, he smiles inwardly, gives you water, you say thanks. He sits next to you on the bed and attempts to kiss you. You may refuse and both of you will end up wrestling for your tight jeans (I wasn’t so dumb, I always wear tight jeans). But Joe was different, he was nice. I visited him a number of times and all we did was play cards or chess. When he attempts to kiss and I say no, he stops. He was the dream. It was two weeks already, going on three and no wrestle, we haven’t broken up and there was no pressure. This singular fact made me overlook all his other flaws. But he was only being smart. Before I knew it, he has gained my trust and I was imagining growing old with him and the beautiful kids we’ll have. By two weeks of knowing him, I was already sleeping at his place (not Abuja hostel). We’ll talk all night, play, kiss, I’ll even let him touch my boobs (I thought he deserved that much), he’ll make me breakfast and serve me in bed, it was bliss. I was a month away from my 19^th birthday when we met and I hadn’t had consensual sex as at then (more on the questions “consensual sex” is raising in your minds in a different post). One day we talked until late, laughing and kissing and touching and he tried to go all the way, I still pushed him away. And again he stopped without pleading or wrestling. When I woke up the next day, at around 10am he was by the kitchen making spaghetti, I passed by him to get to the rest room to free up my bladder. When I was done, I stopped to chat a bit with him before going to stretch some more on the bed. Then he asked “why do you always turn me down, do you not trust me, am I not good enough for you?” somehow I had amnesia that morning, I completely forgot we have discussed this and I had told I didn’t want sex until I was married or 25 whichever came first. The only thing I thought of at that point was that I’m being selfish and he deserves better. And sure enough we had sex that evening. He was good (I don’t mean the sex), he got what almost a dozen of guys before him couldn’t. He was manipulative and patient. This is a common trait of violent men. They know how to have their way, in the beginning they are patient but as you get more familiar with them and become less ‘yourself’, they don’t bother to be patient anymore. The manipulation never goes away, it gets better instead.

POEM

'WHAT WILL YOU DO?'

If I tell you my story
Of how I was a happy little girl
Big dreams, great potential
Playing in the sand, playing doctor
Will you smile with me?

If I add the part about my parents
How they seldom talk to each other
Big fights, scared mom
Me and my siblings hiding under sheets
Will you pity me?

If you hear about me growing up
How I was harrased at 8, 12 and 16
Big secrets, great guilts
Locking doors to escape my uncle
Will you cry with me?

If I tell you about my first period
How I didnt know how to use the pad
Until the third try
Oh yes, I did tell my mom
But yet, I was on my own
Will you reach out to me?

If I tell you about the new me
How I forgive and healed and forgave
Still dreaming, maximizing potential
Playing with my kids, even in the sand
Will you play with me?