Moyo sat in the darkness of the bedroom she used to share with her husband, Victor. She had given up on wondering where he was. Nowadays, he came home once in a week to check up on his children. He came home the previous day and they had another big issue. As usual, he found something wrong she had done. Something about denigrating her seemed to turn him on. He didn’t stop at bathing her with insults, he kicked her out of the room. She ended up sleeping in one of the guest rooms downstairs.

Every morning, It was as if God asked him, “what will make you happy today? Getting a promotion? Getting a raise? Winning a jackpot?” and he replied, “ Making Moyo miserable. It would make my day. In fact, it would make my year.”

Lately, they didn’t have sex. Once upon a time, he couldn’t stay long without shoving his shaft into her oven. Obviously, there was another woman who was giving it to him. She had confronted him on several occasions. The last time she did it, he gave her the beating of her life. After that incident, she swore never to confront him. That was two months ago. Good enough for her, she didn’t have to bother about anyone asking her questions. She was a stay-at-home mom. She wouldn’t have believed it if anyone had told her four years after getting married to him; he would turn into a dastardly monster. She wondered where she had gone wrong. She regretted putting her life on hold for him and her children.




Before she got married, she told herself that her future husband wouldn’t have any other woman besides her. She remembered a heated debate she had in class with her other classmates in the university.

She had vehemently stated, “Whomever I get married to will not cheat on me. Both of us would be one.” She went on to emphasize the oneness by interlocking her index fingers of both hands. If her classmates knew what she was up to, they would feign pity for her but laugh hard behind her back. Especially Kenny. Kenny had a sadistic laughter that she used to find annoying. It sounded like something from a maniacal psychopath.

Kenny was one of those people other people hated because they were awesome. In the hatred, there was an iota of respect because Kenny had it all: intellect, grace, charm, wit, beauty, and other endearing qualities. It seemed like Kenny was amazing without even making an effort. Kenny seemed anti-matrimony. Recently, she heard through the grapevines that Kenny wasn’t married. To make it more interesting, she was the owner of a very successful law firm somewhere in Abuja. She was one of the few women she had come to respect. Kenny was now a prominent member of the society at 29. Here she was: an out-of-shape hausfrau of some ungrateful man who had made stripping her off her dignity his favourite past time. Somehow, she hated her life.

Moyo smiled bitterly to herself. Those of them that are single don’t understand how lucky they are, she mused. They have their own money. They have their freedom. They have peace of mind. Moyo couldnt help it as the tears trickling down her face. She sniffed in the darkness. She tried to imagine how her life would have been if she wasn’t married.

She was one of the best students in her class. She was even nominated for the ‘Most Likely to Succeed’ Award alongside Kenny and two other young men in her class. Everyone knew she had potential. She used to be very opinionated. No lecturer back then could treat her class how he or she felt like. Moyo wasn’t the course rep but her lecturers were scared of her guts. How did she become this subservient and timid woman? Many a times, when she looked into the mirror, she didn’t seem to recognise the person she saw in there. She literally looked like a shadow of herself.

She met him in a bus. He was sitting on her left side. She was going to visit her sister who lived at Ketu. As expected of Ikorodu road, there was serious traffic. She remembered she hissed. That was when Victor spoke to her. He had asked her why she was angry. She had spent most of her energy getting angry at the traffic jam. She didn’t have enough energy to reply him. He didn’t get it that she wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation. Or maybe he did but he just felt like chatting her up. He told her that anger wasn’t of the Lord. He even supported his claim with a biblical passage.

This roused her interested in him. Most of the guys she knew were not good Christians. She believed that once a man was god-fearing, he wouldn’t act the way many guys do. She believed unbelievers were the ones who smoked, drank, and screwed everyone that had a soft, warm, moist orifice between their thighs.

In the bus, they talked about hold ups in general. She went on to tell him that the cause of most hold-ups in Lagos was owing to the fact that most motorists were not patient. He told her about the longest traffic jam he had been in was for five hours. He said it was on his way to Abuja. He told her more stories. She hung on to everything he said. One hour later, they had exchanged numbers. They were still stuck in traffic. They had made progress from Palm Groove Bus Stop to Ojota. Moyo told him it was a good thing having someone to talk with. If not for him, she would have been bored out of her mind. They found out he stayed five streets away from her sister’s. He laughed and said, “Imagine o. God just brought my wife to me.”

Moyo smiled. Her insides were ticklish the moment she heard “wife”. She had heard of couples that met in funny places. Those couples ended up having very happy families. They seemed to live a sort of fairy tale life. Seeing their wedding photos and reading their stories on Facebook always melted her heart. There and then, Moyo imagined herself getting married to Victor.

Victor ticked almost all the boxes of her idea of Mr. Right. He was tall, dark but not your conventional conceptualisation of handsome per se. He was smart and god-fearing. From the look of things, he was a very successful engineer at 29. He was even from Oyo state. He had told her he had attended University of Ibadan. That was all she need to know.

On weekends, she would leave Yaba to go all the way to Ketu to see him. All that distance to see her “one, true love.” To her, she was investing in the relationship.

On getting there on Friday, she would have amazing sex with Victor. She did it porn-star style with him. On Saturday, when he was out, she would do his laundry. Cook for him. Clean his house. Iron his clothes. Whenever he returned, she would make love him. In her hearts of hearts, she knew she scored an A+ in the uxorial duties course.

They had dated for a year and few months before he popped the expected question. In return, she had feigned surprise that she screamed her lungs out. A woman can fake anything from a smile to an orgasm. She was anything but surprised

That didn't mean she wasn’t beyond elated. Her efforts were not in vain. God had finally crowned her effort with success. She wasn’t going to be like those other women that didn’t get married until they were old. She had eventually landed a man. One of her cousins, Trisha, was still single at 30. Trisha was a successful medical doctor. But, without a man, Trisha was nothing. That was what her mother told her the last time she was home. Her mother had advised her to get married on time so she wouldn’t end up like her cousin. Now that she had succeeded where Trisha failed, her joys knew no bounds.

She was in law school at the time. Her friends had wondered if it was a good idea getting married at 22. She would have none of it. She narrated tales of other women who got married at very young ages. She convinced them that they were happy. She went on to make them understand that it was advisable for a woman to have children between the ages of 22 to 28. “Anything after that is difficult o. I read it online.” She recalled that Zuri had said, “Is this not how people from your side just get married at two years old. Babe, what is the hurry? You are smart and sexy and all that. You haven’t even started enjoying your life. You can just submit your CV to any law firm now and they would take you. Chill a bit.”

She had convinced Zuri that this was the best thing for her. She supported her point by saying, “don’t you know that this is a good thing? You should be happy for me. I am done with school and all. Like you said, if I submit my CV to any firm they will take me. What is left? I just want to have my children on time. After the kids, I can go on to focus on my career. Kids are very important. By the way, Victor has enough money. He just wants to pamper me. He doesn’t want me to work. He says he wants me looking fresh. You won’t believe if I tell you I don’t fancy the idea of me getting a job. I want to start my own thing. You know like a boutique...” She’d rambled.

Moyo went on and on rationalising her reasons for getting married. She pleaded with her friends to support her because she felt they mattered a lot. Moreover, they were going to be in her bridal train. She knew Zuri had a crush on her. Zuri had told her about it since the first year they met. But then, Moyo didn’t swing that way. She made Zuri understand that it wasn’t going to happen.

The wedding was big. That was when it actually dawned on her that Victor was loaded. He made that day special for her. What else could a girl ask for? He even got her a red car for her as a wedding gift!

They had a three-week honeymoon in Accra, Ghana. She had always wanted to visit Accra. They’d also spent a week in Obudu. It all seemed perfect. She was in a state of bliss. The sky was bluer. The grass was greener. Food was sweeter. Sex was more amazing. Heaven was a place on earth with him by her side.

At this moment of her life, it seemed like she neglected her friends. The calls reduced. Once, Ije “liked” a Facebook picture of her horse ridding. Victor had taken that picture of her during their stay in Accra. On Facebook, she had apologised to Ije for “abandoning” her. The excuse was, “I am busy, dear.” Indeed, she was busy enjoying the best days of her married life. Her friends were in the farthest place in her mind. Zuri didn’t bother pretending she was happy that Moyo got married. Zuri was very honest and blunt. She didn’t even call or text. Moyo felt this was because she broke Zuri’s heart in a way. She later made Zuri understand that she cared about her but she was in love with Victor. It took a while for Zuri to wrap her mind around the concept of Moyo being out of reach.

Three months after her wedding, she was pregnant. Victor was very happy when he knew he was going to be the father of a set of twins. The joy was doubled when he knew they were boys. He took extra care of his wife. Every day, he had something to celebrate. Nice restaurants. No wine, though. Breakfast in bed on weekends. He got her a pair of diamond earrings. Moyo was in the throes of love. He was in love with her, too. He even did the chores for her when he had the chance to. She had him eating from the palm of her hand.

It all changed when Moyo decided it was time to get a job. Her children were four years old at the time. She remembered that morning in April. She was packing his lunch.

“Dear,” she said without looking up from the lunch pack. “I think it is time for me to get a job. The boys are old enough to start nursery school. I am excited about this, you know. I will get to meet brilliant people. I am thinking of a law firm. Did you know that some of my classmates in uni already have their own firms? Imagine me in a killer suit and repping people like that in court. Baby, I will be the bomb.” She was very excited.

“Because of that you now want to bath my food with spit, abi?” He spat.

“Haba, now,” she looked up at him and pouted. “I was just sharing my idea with you. You remember we said I could start working when the boys are old enough to start school. I want to contribute to our family.”

“You should let that idea die like that. You want to now go out, abi? You want to make money, eh? So that they will say because I can’t take care of you, you have gone to hustle, is that it? How much do I pay you as salary? How many of your age mates are earning up to that? You want to go and get a job. Have you seen yourself in the mirror recently? You are now fat. You say you want to get a job. You look ten years older, sef. No one would want to employ you. Just give it up, madam I-Want-To-Get-A-Job. No be only job.” He hissed at her.

She was flummoxed. She didn’t even know how to reply him. She didn’t know where this barrage of insult was emanating from. They had had arguments in the past. But this time around, it was more than she could take. She was livid. “Victor Morakinyo Ekundayo where did that come from? Ehn? What do you mean by-”

Before she could vent her vitriol, she couldn’t believe the slap that covered half of her face. The sound alone scared her. It sounded distant yet so close.

Before she could vent her vitriol, she couldn’t believe the slap that covered half of her face. The sound alone scared her. It sounded distant yet so close.

“You dared to call my names? Ha! O ma se o*! Civilisation has done more harm than good in deed. Women even dare to call their husbands by their full names.” He pulled her by the collar of her pyjamas shirt and slapped her. This time around, she saw lightning flash. The impact dumfounded her. She couldn’t scream even if she wanted to. He pushed her to the floor with the force of the anger he had bottled up from God-Knows-When.

With Moyo gasping and rolling on the floor, the reality of what he had done dawned on Victor; he rushed to her side. It seemed as though a demon had possessed him the past few minutes. He could see the tears cascading down her cheeks. “Baby, I am sorry...” He cooed apologetically. “I...I ...

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