Her Secret Sacrifices (African Stories)

I came up with this idea of sharing african stories (real life, fiction, history and current) without disclosing if its fiction or real using only african stories as my hash tag. You as my reader will decide how view it. Ready?

She adorned his betrayal. Soaked herself in his apologies and believed in his every lie. When his 'I will never repeat such again claimed her ears, she melted and lowered her worth again by forgiving him. So he hit her and apologised then struck her again. He once slept with another and apologised while gladly infecting her with an STI as she carried their unborn last born.

He later broke her nose after she asked about his hanging out with one of her friends. I am an African man and our traditions allows me to choose whomever as mate, he mocked. In silence, she took his abuse then lovingly denied it was his fault when her closest asked. Her mother in law had advised her its what wise married women do. Covering up for their husbands. Some window ended up being blamed.

At one time, he enjoyed raiding local joints with his arm around her friend's waist during the nights. This resulted in him sleeping throughout most days. He had a problem with working and when he didn't, it was to fund his nights out. Unbelievably... His rage was unmatched when she mentioned she was thinking of starting to work. He felt she had enough going on with raising their three children.

Though she secretly envied happy single women; Her fear of single-motherhood kept her calling herself married. Wondering where she would go or start, played their maddening roles for hours in her unsettled mind too. She was sure she was doing it for her three young ones to have a complete home. Something she herself never had. Their fate had to be different she thought. Staying married also meant being viewed as a respectable woman and she badly loved the idea.

Men were allowed to do as they pleased with their wives but never vice versa. Women were engineered to birth and agree without questions, he always said. Who would love a hag look alike twenty four year old with three children was a hilarious concern of his. He also wondered what she would be without him.

She fought to stay in a broken home. It was expected of her by the whole community. Or so she assumed. Sadly, his fists didn't help in the matter and his rotten mouth made it worse. He beat her self esteem out of her as his tongue reminded her how ugly she looked. He blackmailed her soul with fears she had shared in search of a friend. Suffocating her being mercilessly.

A decade had passed when she started questioning herself. She had missed her grave a few times via his hands. Her raped body was oozing defiance and her mind wanted out. She was tired of all of it. The silence while absorbing his rage through blows. The unsolicited pity written on every villager she encountered. Freedom became her quest.

He denied her the children when she decided to leave but she knew she had to leave. It had already dawned to her she was much better alive and well somewhere else without them than dead or disabled for insisting to live with them. She loved her children enough to walk out of them with a plan to claim them in a safer future... And the future is now close!