When I look around and listen to stories of how men turn their wives to punching bags all in the name of insecurity and inferiority complex, I always remember my own story. I have shared it with some friends and made them laugh throughout the day. But, to me, it is not a funny story, but something I had to do to end a trend that could have led to my untimely death.

There are so many women out there, who have become handicapped as a result of constant beating. Some have even lost their lives. Yet, many of those stories have not been told because those involved are not celebrities. While some celebrities come out bold to expose this anomaly even when it would splash some mud on them, others still keep quiet to avoid scandal. I was also like the latter group during my first few years in marriage.

We were a group of three friends, who got married to three friends. We all attended the same university and were known almost everywhere as one family. The men and two of us (ladies) graduated at the same time, while I graduated a year after them. Despite the fact that they served in different parts of the country, they maintained their relationships, and I maintained mine too.

However, out of the three male friends, my husband was the one that treated his partner (me) anyhow. I was also the most gentle among the three ladies. After my university education, I aborted two pregnancies for him. When the third one came, and he said I should abort again, his friends, who had settled down with my two other friends, stood up against it, saying they would go and tell his family members about me and the pregnancy.

They were very angry with him and accused him of being wicked. One of them actually told him that he would have allowed me to go since if he knew that he was not ready for marriage with me. Truly, they went to his mother and she called for me. Somehow, the wedding plans started and we got marriage in a quiet ceremony.

I was five months gone when we got married, but I was happy that I would have the baby as a legally married wife. My two friends, who had two children each for their husbands, never left my side. But they were always not happy the way my husband treated me. The first day he would beat me mercilessly was in my eighth month.

Our pumping machine had a fault, so I usually fetched water directly from the well very early in the morning for the two of us to use. He had taken a bath that morning, so I went to fetch my own water, so that I could also take a bath and go to work.

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