“Help me! Somebody, please save me!”
I screamed. Sadly, no one could come to my rescue. No one could read my mind or hear the screams and plea in my head. I was all alone and stuck with her, the beautiful witch I called my wife.
“You are just a useless man”, I could hear her say in the midst of my thoughts and my silent screams. She hissed and walked away. I took off my torn shirt and added it to the pile. That was shirt number thirty-five or was it thirty-six? I was beginning to lose count. The only count I was sure of was that, I had been married for twenty-seven months, ten weeks and three days. It felt like forever.
“Guy, aren’t you ashamed to say this? How you go open mouth talk say woman beat you”, Paul said angrily.
“You are meant to be a man”, Dayo said mockingly, “Put her in her place.”
Yes, I was ashamed and that was the last time I mentioned it to anyone. Although I would kill for an opportunity to speak to someone. Everyone talks about women in abusive relationships but no one ever talks about men like me, like us, who go through the same.
How on earth did I end up with someone like her? During courtship she was one of the sweetest and prettiest I could find. She was virtuous and couldn’t hurt a fly. Or was I just too blind to notice? Did calling me a fool and lowlife when I lost my job count? What about threatening to kill me, when I said I wanted a small wedding whilst she wanted a big one. Wasn’t it all a joke?
I had tried it all, including the ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ technique. I thought I had beaten the sense into her that day only to be awoken in the night by multiple stings of hot water on my back. I ran for my life, lest I become another tale in the papers. I had no fine pictures to spatter around.
She came begging, like she always did and I forgave like I always did. She was so remorseful and after all, I was a man of my words. I had vowed till death do us part.
I made her fried rice and chicken with a cup of smoothie. It was her favourite and always my form of apology to her each time I left. I made it extra delicious this time because it was going to be my last, I was never going to leave again. I stared at her as she ate with a smile on my face. Her grave would thank me. I kissed her and whispered into her ears, till death do us part…
Chynergy's Blog 
It’s a pity!. Mr husband should speak up and not die in silence. Not speaking up which is a kind of pride whether as a result of shame or anything will cause his untimely death.
He should meet the appropriate authorities to admonish and caution his boxing partner to avoid future occurrence.
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Thank you Abraham for the comment. I share the same sentiment. Men have to speak up and let their voices be heard.
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