Hell on earth
(based on a true story)
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My name is Nneka. I was a modern day slave. I was born into a wretched family. My father was an umbrella repairer and my mother sold akara in front of the batcher which served as our house. I have three siblings; two boys and a girl.
When I was seventeen, I was married off to a widower. Or should I say I was sold off to him? He was a local politician in his very late forties. My parents believed that marrying me off would ease their financial burden. They thought my bride price and the money they’d be getting from their in-law would relief them financially.
But they were wrong. They only succeeded in selling me into slavery. They destroyed my life, that is if I had any to start with. My husband was a monster. He had two untrained children; a boy and a girl. The girl was my age mate and the boy was nineteen, two years older than I was.
The only moment of peace I enjoyed in my husband’s house was the first few hours I spent there. After that, my nightmare started. On my first night in the house, my husband practically tore me up. I was a virrgin with no prior s*x.ual experience. I got my se.x education in the most painful way.
That night, he got home drunk. I’d made food and waited for him to come home so we’d eat. My mother taught me to do that. But when he got home, he had no interest in the food. He pounced on me and had his way violently. Nobody warned me about how painful it would be. I found out the hard way. I bled through the night until dawn. I cried my eyes out.
The next morning, he left the house without saying anything to me. I guess he didn’t notice that the log of wood he played with the previous night was crying. He left that morning and I didn’t see him in the next four days. He didn’t tell me where he was going to. After the first night of his disappearance, I became worried.
I went to his daughter to ask if she knew her father’s way about. She nonchalantly asked me not to disturb her. It was the same with the son. In their father’s absence, they turned me into their errand girl, more like a housemaid. Not that their father would have minded anyways. They did nothing on their own. I did all the work in the house even to the point of washing their cloths.
They were both doing alcohol and weed. The only time they were not bothering me was when they were smoking. That was the only time I had a little peace. Four days later, my husband came home. He came with a lady. I didn’t know who she was but my husband warned me never to come close to our bedroom until she was gone. I vacated my matrimonial bedroom for her.
She spent over a week in the house. While she was in the house, I also doubled as her house girl. I cooked the food she ate. I boiled the water she bathed with. I washed her cloths. I may have also flushed her excreta. Yet I didn’t stop being the general housemaid for everyone.
Most heartbreaking, while I would sleep on a mat along the passage as my husband warned me never to sleep on the couches in the sitting room, I would hear her mo.aning from s.xual ple@sure. That was from my husband of less than two weeks but there was nothing I could do. I was just a girl sold off so her family would have a certain financial relief.
After about one month into the marriage, I ran home. The first thing my mother asked me was what I was doing in their house. I told her about all that had happened within the short time. The only response she gave me was “jisi ike noo ije di (endure it, its the journey of marriage)”. After that, she sent me back and warned me never to come to their house again unless my husband asked me to.
That was when I realized I had nobody to come to my rescue. My parents sold me out and issued an invoice. Back in my husband’s house, things remained the same. I never had peace nor the joy of marriage. My husband raped me anytime he wanted my body. I call it raped because there was no form of discussion, agreement or foreplay. He practically tore my pant each time and I nurse the bruises for days.
Of course, he owned me. He bought me from my parents and paid in full. He also made sure I was a full housewife. He refused starting any business for me. I was beyond broke. The only time I touched money was when I was sent to the market. I’d walk kilometers just so I’d buy things cheaper and have a little change. The few times I begged him to start any type of business for me, he blatantly told me he only married me so I’d bear him children.
His prayer was answered. I became pregnant eight months into the hellish marriage. I was sick and weak, I didn’t know I was pregnant. How would I have known when nobody taught me? He managed to buy me drugs before he disappeared like he always did. The drugs seemed to be and I was getting better bit by bit. Then suddenly, I became very sick again.
That afternoon, I was very weak. I was sitting on a couch resting when I slept off. The next time I opened my eyes was to the grip of a hand violently covering my mouth. It was my husband’s son, my supposed stepson. He was forcefully trying to rape me. I tried to fight him off but I couldn’t. He was too powerful for me and my strength was already low. He eventually had his way.
I passed out while he defiled my womanhood.
Join me on the next episode of ‘Hell on earth”.
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TOCHUKWU ANOZIE
