I sat on the chair beside his bed and watched the man who promised to love me eternally cuddle my best friend. I fought the urge to strike them a death blow with my favorite shoe that lay carelessly on the floor. It was obvious she had adorned her feet with my beautiful pink stiletto shoe. I fought the tears that burned my eyes, my husband had gifted me those shoes to mark my birthday last year and yet he had the guts to give them to his mistress. The pink shoe reminded me of events, events I didn't want to remember. I flinched as I thought of the conspicuous cut on my face I was blessed with on that day, the scar on my face was always a constant reminder of the beating I received in the hands of my dear husband on my 34th birthday.
I looked at him snoring like a pig with disgust written all over my face, I felt nothing but hatred for him. In fact the love I had for him had diminished with each passing day until i finally grew cold and had no emotions left. All I felt in my heart was hate, anger and resentment towards him, oh how I hated this man.
I must have been mad to have ever fallen in love with him. I stared at the woman whom I thought was my friend in pity, if only she knew the beast she gave herself to. But again it served her right, a deceitful friend deserved nothing better than the wicked clutches of a fool like the man I once called husband.

The signs were staring me in the face while we courted but I was badly blinded by love.
While we dated, He had issues with his temper but I wasn't perturbed. I felt marriage and responsibilities that came with it would change him.
Once,he poured tea on me simply because it wasn't as hot as he wanted, but I forgave him. All he needed to change was to get married and bag more responsibilities.
Another time he gave me a deafening slap for daring to talk while he lashed at me angrily, again I forgave him after he apologized. All we needed to do was get married and he would be responsible.
So many times he abused me verbally, did things to me that broke my body and hurt my spirit .
As much as he hurt me, he knew my weakness. His big brown eyes were my weakness ,I couldn't stand to look into his eyes whenever he was sad, I couldn't resist his pleas ,so over and over again I forgave him. All I needed to do was to wait patiently for us to get married so I could mold him into the man of my dreams.

The day of our wedding finally drew close, it was going to be the happiest day of my life. Like a Potter,i was going to carefully mold my darling into the kind of man I wanted.
One week to our wedding he slapped me for daring to have a chit chat over the phone with a long lost male friend, but then again I understood . Men are jealous, my man hit me because he was scared of losing me. When I finally marry him, his fears would start to fizzle away. Marriage would change him.
A day to our wedding he called me an idiot and a waste of space, the physical and financial stress of planning a proper wedding was obviously wearing him out. After our wedding, he would breath fresh air. Marriage would change him.

So we got married and on our wedding night we had a lengthy talk. I poured my heart out to him and watched as he sat listening quietly like a loyal puppy. At last marriage was changing my man, I drew the man I was going to live happily forever with in an embrace and smiled to our beautiful future.

My Joy was short lived when he landed me my first blow after marriage, and then slaps and more slaps. The fears started to creep in ,I lived in fear in my own house. I became a punching bag. Maybe I was wrong, marriage cannot change a man but children will.

At last I was pregnant, I couldn't contain my joy. Birthing a child would mean reclaiming my husband because seeing his child would definitely make him respect and love me.
I broke the news of my pregnancy to him and I remember the pure show of joy written on his face. He lifted me high and made the best love to me that night. I was happy again. You see, a child can change any man.

So again my man started to hurt me. He started to keep late nights and sleep around with various women. He would beat me even with my protruded tummy and starve me each time I complained of his promiscuous lifestyle. I totally depended on him for everything, I was a proper housewife, he made sure he frustrated my efforts to earn my own money. My only consolation was my child still growing in my womb against all odds. My strong child would definitely change him.

Now I have Four children. One child didn't change him neither did four. A boy child didn't change him neither did a girl.

Once ,I thought praying and fasting would change him, I prayed and fasted so much that I lost so much weight, yet he only grew worse.
Another time a friend told me to overlook him and mind only my business. I adhered to her instructions and didn't care about him but was afflicted with various kinds of Std's and sti's he brought home to me on regular basis .
I reported him to his close family and friends but then he beat me for daring to disgrace him.
I tried to talk to him in bed but he pushed me aside and slept off as soon as his head touched a pillow.

I knew I needed to leave the marriage, everyday the beatings and insults clearly buttressed that fact.
I had made a grievous mistake, marriage cannot change a man or make him responsible, neither will children. A man would change only after he had made up his mind to change.

I thought about what the society would say, what my family would say, how I didn't want to be in a failed marriage, how my pastor preached about God hating divorce and most importantly about my children, I didn't want them to go through the drama of a broken home ,so I sat and endured my husbands wrath.
Maybe, just maybe as we grow older together, he would finally learn to stop hurting me. Maybe old age would change him, maturity would humble him. I had to endure his beastly claws for the sake of my children.

He has finally killed me, my life has been cut short by my husband at an early age of 35, I didn't have the luxury of old age .He sent me to an early grave with a strike on my head and told everyone that I accidentally slipped ,fell, hit my head on the hard floor and died.
My body lies cold in the mortuary while my best friend warms his bed.
I have finally left my poor children I was going to endure his brutality for to the mercy of his numerous girlfriends and nonchalant attitude.
Every one calls me a fool, I lived a life of folly.
My troubled spirit wanderers around the house that was once my torture room ,I watch as he cuddles my friend and as my children cry for me .

If only I could get another chance to live my life over again.
I would not mess it up.
I'll do what is best for me.
I won't allow a man ruin me.....

Dedicated to lives lost by domestic violence and every person going through domestic violence.
YOU HAVE ONE LIFE, DON'T ALLOW ANYONE WASTE IT.

SPEAK UP. END DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.

"Drops mic sways hair and catwalks away".
©Laura Ezinne Idika