ABUSED. Chapter 24

Three weeks passed and I was doing okay for a change. I was still shy at the group therapy sessions and felt awkward about talking to other women and the counsellor about my abuse. Thankfully, the all left me alone and never probed. It helped me listen to their experiences and learn how they were dealing with the effects and lasting psychological scars. I realized that some women had way worse than me and that broken bones and burnt skins were not uncommon for abuse. Temilade, Damola’s cousin joined after the second week and the day she eventually talked about her abusive ex-boyfriend, she almost cried her eyes out.

During the sessions, I learnt about the cycle of abuse, the red flags when being first hit in a relationship and how one can get to safety to make sure he doesn’t abuse one again.

“Lock yourself into bathrooms and toilets if you have to,” Mrs Jegede, the counsellor told us. “Most abusers cool down after a while and come to their senses. If he doesn’t, that means he is extremely dangerous and can give you life threatening wounds.”

It was on Monday, February 29th I finally had a breakthrough in the therapy session and decided to voice out and talk about my abuse. “Hi, I’m Jumoke and I am currently in an abusive relationship.”

I spoke for an entire hour and told the group my story- how I met Kayode, the first time he slapped me, the beatings, how I lost my pregnancy and the rape sessions. I talked about how I had never feared anyone more in my life and the constant worthlessness I felt. There were a few shocked faces and shedded tears by other women. I managed to shed a few tears and for the first time, I felt like it wasn’t just me against the world. I felt so happy, light and empowered that day that I decided to call Olaitan, my best friend in Abuja who I let Kayode make me be a bitch to. She was quite civil and for the second time that day, I retold my story and felt like I had taken the first step towards setting myself free.

On the way home that evening, I tried to call Damola and then I remembered that I had forgotten the small Nokia phone at home. At first I contemplated calling him on my main line but then again, I didn’t want to tempt fate by looking for trouble again. I made a mental note to call him when I got home.  I got home around 7pm, my steps light and I was really looking forward to enjoy watching a nice movie that night. My torment started as soon as I stepped through the door. He sat there in the sitting room with a bottle of jack Daniels in one hand and my Nokia phone on the other hand. In the middle of the centre table was one of his leather belts and one of our kitchen knives.

“Baby what are you doing?” I asked with a trembling voice.

He glared at me. There was nothing like his normal eyes. No anger, no coldness, no hatred. He was just blank.

“I want to ask you a few questions and I just hope to God that you will tell me the truth or else, I don’t even know the extent of the harm I can cause you this night.”

I swallowed hard; definitely not liking the sound of this but knew that there was no way out of it for me.

“Let’s begin.” He announced with a voice as deadly as the shiny knife in his front.

Sweat began to form on my forehead and the urge to use the bathroom very badly started all of a sudden. I was sick to the stomach as he got out of the chair and approached me, his eyes doing the job of a deadly weapon.

“Why do you have this phone?”

I panicked, sure that he would stab me on the spot if I told him the truth. I claimed that it wasn’t mine and he gave me a disbelieving look, asking me if I thought he was stupid.

“Who have you been calling?”

Tears were streaming down my face at this point but otherwise, my body was rigid like a stick and I can’t even remember breathing. My heart was pounding really hard and my mouth was very dry, not even a bit of saliva to swallow. I mumbled to him that I never cheated on him and even told him that I loved him too much to destroy the wonderful life we had built.

He straightened before pressing the knife into my upper arm, drawing blood and eliciting a scream from me. “Sorry baby, that was a mistake,” he grinned sarcastically. He tilted my head backward so I could look into his eyes. “Was it that oloriburuku doctor?”

I knew I would break eventually, so I nodded. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, released me and went back to sit on the couch, instructing me to come along with him.

He told me to remove all my clothes but leave just my pant and dipped his finger into me, brought it up to his nose and seeming satisfied that it wasn’t sperm, wiped it off with my pant. He just let me stand there and started working on his laptop. I, on the other hand was afraid to move. Even though it was getting late, there was no tiredness in me. I was scared for my life, realising that he could just snap and stab me all over. I remembered the counsellor’s words: “When things escalate, try to stay calm and not worsening the situation. It could be a battle for your life.”

I stood there in total silence, the only sound was from the tick-tock of the clock and the sound the keypad of his laptop made. When it was 8:39pm, the wait was finally over and a message came in through the Nokia phone.

‘How did it go today? I haven’t heard from you all day and decided to check on you. Goodnight.’

Kayode re-read the message over a dozen times, growing visible angry by the second and I knew I was in serious dangerous waters. “You know I’m very angry just like you would be if one babe just sent me a message, right? Now choose your own punishment. Don’t even worry; I’ll just use the belt on you.”

I nodded automatically, my heartbeat accelerating even more. He was angry and I knew that he would beat the shit out of me.

He was merciless when he approached me, savouring my fear and discomfort. I instinctively wrapped my arm around my chest as he gazed at my unclothed body. He asked about how many lashes I would like to receive and my eyes widened involuntarily. He concluded that we would let Damola determine that, brought out the Nokia and counted the number of alphabets in the text I Damola sent. “70. That’s a nice number.” He remarked as I secretly wished Damola had just shortened all the words and made things go so much easier for me.

He instructed me to count out loud and at that moment, he had the face of the devil. He started and the belt tore into my skin, the second hit set my butt on fire, another blow across my back but I just hung in there, counting as the time went by, holding myself strong as I gripped the armrest of the couch tightly. I continued crying out but he didn’t even show any mercy. With every whip, I got weaker, cries louder and my despair rising, making me believe there was nothing but pain in this world for me.

When he finished, I felt like someone had split open my back and rubbed fresh pepper on it. I was in immense pain and at that moment, I wished I had listened to everyone, and then wished that death would just come and take me away. It was 10pm on the dot and the slightest twitch sent a throbbing pain all over my back. Kayode entered the toilet, got some water into a bowl, put Dettol in it and cleaned my back with a towel, inciting loud wails of pain from my guts.

Another message came in again just when he was finished cleaning me up. This time, it simply read ‘Goodnight.’ and as expected, it earned me another 10 lashes in my inner thighs; I have to give it to him, he didn’t beat me anywhere incriminating. He finished, cleaned me up again and kissed me on the lips to say goodnight.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night, my whole body agonising every time I moved while the tears continued to roll. My nose was clogged with mucus but standing up to blow my nose seemed like and unachievable feat. The darkness and silence was pressing and I was scared to make any noise that could wake him. My heart was pounding and even though I knew he it wasn’t possible for him to hear the sound, it didn’t lessen my terror.

Morning came and he set a new rule, I wasn’t to step out the door that day until he came back from work. I wasn’t even in the physical state to go, so he was doing me a favour. He locked all the door in the house, took my phones and laptop, removed all the keys and left for work with instructions that I was to clean the length and breadth of the house before he comes back.

My head was about to explode and the pain was unbearable. So as soon as he left, I got into the bathroom despite my body’s protest and looked into the mirror. My eyes were very red and puffy; the part of my back I could see was covered in welts from the belt, each larger than the next. I cleaned myself up and got into a very loose shirt. I was weak, tired and hungry, so I made tea and took some Novagin and Paracetamol I found in the kitchen. I cleaned the house all afternoon and slept after.

I woke up with a sore body and the sound of the banging front door. As soon as he entered the house, I knew that I was in trouble again. His posture said it all. He went straight to the chair and sat in it, his body posture rigid and the Nokia in his hand.

“You got other messages.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heartbeat accelerating again.

“Kayode please I’m so sorry,” my voice was hoarse and totally foreign to me. “I’ll call Damola and tell him never to bother me again. I’ll throw away the phone and break the Sim card. I will do anything you want. Just please forgive me and don’t beat me again tonight.” I sounded so desperate, begging his with my eyes and sobbing like a child. If my mother saw mw at that moment, she would be ashamed of me. But at the same time, I knew if there was any love left for me in him, he would come to his senses.

“Aye e ti baje. Shior! You betrayed me and can’t even take responsibility for it.“ He pushed me down and this time, removed the belt he was wearing and didn’t bother to wait before hitting me again. It was around 8pm when he was finally done punishing me and I was sure that the shirt I wore would have blood stains at the back.

He cooked noodles for us and went straight to the bedroom, leaving me on the sitting room floor to nurse my wounds again. Unfortunately, they were out of reach but I still managed to clean some despite the biting stings I had. He was immune to my whimpers of pain and sobs as it appeared earlier that he relished the sound of the belt on my skin and loved my screams of pain. I slept on the couch and had a restless sleep. At exactly 4:48am, I woke up and it was like the pain tripled in intensity.

In the early hours of March 1st 2016 for the first time, I wished he would die and I guess it was my wish that made me do what I did next. I crept into the kitchen as silently as my whimpers of pain and silent sobs would let me and picked up the knife. I was very scared; visibly shaking with fear of what my mind was telling me to do but at the same time, the thought of being free from him gave me lots of happiness. I looked at the far wall of the sitting room and saw the iron. My mind was made up and luckily, NEPA appeared to give their consent for the plan I had in mind. I plugged in the iron and when it was so hot that it started smelling, I crept into the bedroom with overwhelming fear, happy that he had left the door open.

I saw him sleeping shirtless on the bed, looking so peaceful that I almost found it unbelievable that this was the monster I had fallen in love with. There was no more time to back out. I dropped the hot iron on his bare chest and before he could move a muscle, sunk the knife with a strength I never knew I had into his inner thigh. His scream was piercing but I didn’t wait to find out how painful it was; I dashed across the room and grabbed all the phones there including his, ran into the guest bathroom and locked myself in; crying for myself and the dreams I would never accomplish.