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.