My father was a terrorist. It was complicated for me as a child, as I would always see my father beating my mother. My mother was terrified of my father, and that fear diffused into me.

My father could beat my mother just for not cooking with fish if what he wanted to eat was meat.

My father was a carpenter, and I have always been the one helping him in his shop, so most times he tells me Susan (that's my mother) is too weak for him, I wanted a strong and hardworking woman, and God gave me this weak woman, I regret ever marrying her.

I didn't understand because I didn't know what he meant, but those words were registered in my subconscious. I can not remember ever talking to my mother about the incessant battering she had been receiving before she died.

I was shocked when my father cried during her burial. How? What? Maybe he meant it; perhaps he didn't, I don't know.

Fast forward 15years later, I wanted to get married, I had the money but no girl yet. I will say I was selective because I did not want what happened in my father's marriage to repeat in mine.

So I wrote my list of characteristics I wanted my wife to have. She must be very strong physically, must be very hardworking, must be very intelligent, must be very bold, must be very respectful, must be very... (every good thing I could think of)

I started my search. I noticed that most women I saw, had nothing more than two of those characteristics, and since I was getting old, I had to make my choice quick.
I found Felicia, she didn't possess all my criteria, but she was very strong physically, she was hardworking and respectful.

After our first year of marriage, I think my father's demon came after me. Felicia was no more what I wanted, I began to see all her flaws clearly, and a wave of deep anger started rising inside me. I couldn't explain it, but I was not happy.

One day I came home to meet her younger brother in our house, he came to visit us but didn't inform us that he was coming. I tried to talk to her about it, but she started reminding me of my relations who had also come to visit us without prior notice.

Her reply got me seriously angry, and for the first time, I gave her a clean slap, 'kpasss' thinking she will behave like my mother who would have held her cheek and started crying.

She just looked at me like one evil boss in Indian movies, stepped back, took off her wrapper she was tying and wore her shorts.

At this point, a voice which I now know was the voice of angel Gabriel himself, said to me, "Johnson run". "I am a man, I cannot run from a fight with a woman" I replied the voice.

I was watching to see her reaction. When she came to me, I did not hear the sound of my slap. Even now I can't believe any human on earth apart from Mike Tyson would have such brain resetting slap. Did this woman wear iron gloves or what?

Five seconds later, when I regain my senses, I couldn't feel my right cheek, I believe all the cells there died, and it was as if someone rubbed starch on that part of my face.

I held my face and began crying in soft tune "Felicia, so you slapped me. My God will judge you!! So you beat your husband Felicia, My God will judge you."

That was the last time I ever thought of raising my hands on Felicia my loving wife. Even when I think if it, I remember that slap and I rekindle our love.

© Peniel Samson

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Hahahah! Very funny and fictional!

Chai
I feel ur pain small