Girl on fire

As he lands the first blow to my face, I smile. This is new for me as it is for him. Him battering me and yelling at me for no just cause is not new. But, me not shouting and crying or trying to fight back which is always pointless is all new. I always wonder why I try. New is hard but it is also good. I think the plastered smile on my face only infuriates him more, as the punches increases and also become more painful. So are his words of insult yet so is my confidence that this is the last time this “son of a bitch” (his mum is a real bitch by the way) would touch me and I will make sure he understands that.
“Do you agree to take this woman, Toniloba Bakare as your lawfully wedded wife to love and cherish, in sickness and heath, for richer or poorer till death do you apart?” ,Damilola replied “I DO” while looking into my eyes. In my white gown I felt like a princess. Not because of the lovely white gown but because of the way this man I have dated for 2 years who is finally my husband looks at me., The way he makes me feel like I’m all he needs and the love he has for now will be nothing compared to the love he will have for me in years to come. His promises of a good life. To never make me regret becoming Mrs Toniloba Adelade…..
……. That was 5 years ago and it seems like such a lifetime away.
I never knew people could change so rapidly and in ways unimaginable. The abusive husband, the adulterous husband and I the submissive, ever caring optimistic wife just like my mother taught me. I wanted to marry my dad (well not literally) and I actually did until October 7, 2010. A monster came home to me and crawled right beside me on the bed smelling of so much alcohol and cigarette. The event that changed our lives I don’t know but I wish I did. MAYBE I would have been able to stop this nightmare. I go out with my friends and pretend like I still have the best husband they knew. Little do they know how much I dread going home and how grateful I am for the much hated Lagos traffic. I make excuses for him with my parents but, I know my mother really knows her daughter is only locked inside this body that presents itself to her. A mother always knows. The few Sundays he goes to church, he doesn’t fail to embarrass me. Either by shouting at me in church, or being rude to people in church not excluding the pastor. I actually pray he stays at home rather than go to church.
As opposed to love, I think he hates me and why I can’t explain. I think he blames me for something and feels less of a man. Me been his personal punching bag against my will makes him feel like he is still in control of something. I feel like shooting him these days to drain the life out of him. And sleep knowing he can never hurt me again but I can’t do that. I’m a Christian. I’m supposed to love and pray for my enemies (as I think he has become one now though I still love this monster). I have to honour my marriage vows to love and cherish him. Death is the only thing that’s supposed to separate us. So I stand by my man praying without ceasing to God to help us and more especially to strengthen me cos I need that more than even I think. I ask myself a lot: “I’m I actually been a woman of virtue whose price is far above rubies as described in Psalms or I’m I really a weak coward? I mean when does enough become enough?”
The punches won’t stop neither will my smile. I think he is tired of failing to make me miserable as he stops punching me, and looks at me with those brown eyes that were once my hiding place. I stand up and though I feel pain all over my body, for the first time since the new unwanted life, my heart is safe. Toniloba Bakare is standing stronger than ever before. I pack the little bag I can and walk out the door with him staring at me. I walk out with all my scars and bruises. But, they are only physical. My heart is now a fire proof as I was put into a furnace and I came out. Though I’m out in scrapes and pieces but I’m still out. Only if he knew he was creating a girl on fire.