Love is blind.

Doomsday started out as my birthday. I had decided to throw a “small” party. At least it was meant to be small. Somehow, old friends caught wind of it and well you know how those kind of things end up.  Sometime around 9pm, it cooled off and I finally had me-time.

My head ached like crazy, many thanks to standing for so long. I hadn’t been able to exercise any of my pregnant woman privileges since no one knew I was pregnant. 

 I could have been mad that hubby left the house in the middle of my party and was yet to get back, but today wasn’t just that day. When my ‘little’ party lost its attribute of littleness, I wasn’t too surprised that he walked out. I bet he mumbled his famous “stupidly noisy black people” line, as he walked out. I never understood how he married a black girl without doing his research.  But really, what was I supposed to do? Chase him and beg him to play nice and show his wife some support?  I was so done with crap like that.

My pregnancy had been long confirmed and though I was barely showing, my feet were quite swollen. I’d overheard someone saying it could be a sign that the baby was already dead in the womb. I probably wasn’t the most excited mommy-to-be, but I definitely didn’t want it dead. By this time, normal couples would have started arguing about the child’s sex, but I was still calling it ‘it’ and hadn’t told the hubby of its existence.

I wasn’t just courting trouble by keeping quiet. You see, Dink had this thing with perfection: he had to get his nails properly manicured, no one could ever wash his car right, and his shirts had to be straightened just so. There was no way he would gladly accept my announcement that we had somehow made a baby that was less than perfect.

All I wanted to do was to find out the baby’s gender, hoping it would be the boy that Dink wanted, but well I got more than that. I was having twins! Yay! Double blessing right?  And they had one body, but two heads and it would be nearly impossible to separate them. Perfect.


Dink staggered in as I was turning off the lights. He was drunk as hell, and screaming at me to go make him a sandwich.  

It might have been the irritating smell of alcohol, or the fact the he was seriously transforming into the opposite of the guy I thought I knew, but somehow, I found the strength to yell back.
“You’re either going to make yourself a sandwich or let the folks in your stomach play the hunger games. Your pregnant wife is tired and wants to be pampered!”

 I wasn’t sure if he heard the last part and was about to repeat it when I heard a loud “fina-fucking-lly! Took your eggs long enough to cook!”  

Yeah, he definitely heard me.

His scream sprayed the room with alcohol breath. Regardless of the stench, I continued with the rest of my announcement.

 “Well they’ve been cooked for a while,” I said.

“Ok. So I’m just knowing about them because…?”

And then my face started scrunching up in a way that meant the next bit was probably not welcome news.

“Wait, what? Oh that’s what this afternoon was about eh? You had the guts to bring the baby daddy and all your dirty other folks into my house!”

OUR house! Dink I said nothing only because I didn’t know how you’d react. It might be born with some disability or die at birth. I know it’s not the kind of news …”

 “So it’s a disabled baby? You really thought you would force it on me that easily. I bet it has horns or maybe even two heads.  Haha,  sorry hun. Not happening! Take care of your shit.”

The yelling got crazy. I hadn’t known him to be the violent type and I remember being confused when I saw him rolling up his sleeves. Even if I tried, there was no way to get fast help. We lived in the middle of our acre of land with our nearest neighbours being nowhere near. 911? This was Nigeria; rapid response was non-existent. I was my only Jesus. How typical that I’d remember Him as being my saviour and not my religion in my time of need.

 “Dink, please listen to me.  It’s your child! I’d never be unfaithful to you and you know that. Let’s just go to bed, it’s been a really long day. I’ll try explaining it tomorrow at the hospital.”

“Awww, sweet little thing. You look so adorable when you’re scared. We should keep you this way for a while. For the slight chance that it might be mine, I’ll take care of this. I know just how to fix this,” he said.

“Yeah, we can work through this. I’ve started researching on it and we can definitely work through this. We’ll move back to the U.S.”

He was chuckling and moving towards the wardrobe, pulling out certain hangers off clothes and then he started talking again.

 “Good thing I know how to perform a D&C. I’ll take care of it.”

I remember searching my brain for the connection between what he was saying and what he was doing and then it hit me- a coat hanger abortion!

“Honey, please let’s talk this out in the morning” I said, trying to find my car keys without setting him off.  “I’m sorry if I upset you, let’s just start afresh in the morning”.

 He was not listening. He just kept on talking.

“You won’t come hunting me down in a few years for child support for that thing. Look at you! Smart little thing, perhaps you heard me talking with my boyfriend the other night and this is how you plan on stopping our engagement?”

That was the last I heard before he tied my mouth, sent the untwined metal hanger down my cervix and when I tried to scream, he slammed his fist across my face countlessly till I passed out.

The doctor said my maid and driver (a young couple I had employed months earlier) found me at the bottom of the stairs barely hanging on to life.

 Broken legs, no baby, no womb, hubby was getting married to a guy in the U.S and many million dollars broke as he had emptied the joint account we opened in love. Oh and one eye short as the punches not only knocked me out but ruptured my optic nerve.

 I guess it's safe to say love is blind.

Hello there!

 This post was the last part of my 3 post long series. Here are the first two:


Thanks for reading :)


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