DOCUMENT OUR HIS-STORY (THE VIOLENT BUSINESS) Part 1.
Domestic violence can be described as an act of violence against a partner or people living in the same household. All over the world, domestic violence is experienced in various forms, but one common factor across the globe is an abuser.
A report by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime says “nearly 2.5 million cases of sexual violence were reported globally in 2014, with many countries reporting more than 100 instances of rape or sexual assault per 100,000 people”.
World Health Organization documented that 736 million women are subjected to intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence. That is almost 1 in 3 women.
The story below is a true life conversations between myself and a domestic violence survivor. It is the beginning of a series that documents the stories of women who are willing to use their narrative to help prevent and pre-empt similar situations. .
This is a story reflecting the human condition. It’s a cautionary tale and a warning shot, across the bows of womanhood.
**Some names are changed for security purposes however.
THE VIOLENT BUSINESS: NGOZI’S STORY.
Friday. 6:45 PM.
Lagos Nigeria.
I picked up my phone gingerly, holding my breath till I was able to ascertain my toddler hadn’t succeeded in damaging the phone after throwing it at the wall in a tantrum.
‘I swear, you won’t go to school again if I have to pay money to repair this phone’.
Sign of the cross. “Thank you Jesus, everything is intact’.
Scrolling through my Telegram app, I got a call.
‘Somebody please help me, I am going through a lot in my marriage, what can I do?’
I quickly saved her number: Ngozi. I then compose a message.
‘Hello, I am Ololade, I am sorry for all that you have been going through, I volunteer for Women at Risk International Foundation and also Action for children and vulnerable persons network. They are Non Governmental Organizations (NGO) that deals with violence against women and children’.
‘Where are you based? And where are you at the moment? Let me know how I can help you, please’.
‘Oh thank God’! ‘Hi Lolade, thank you for your concern, I am in Lagos’.
‘Oh good, I’m in Lagos too, I live in Isolo area’.
‘Wow, that’s not too far from me na, I stay in Egbeda Area’.
‘Hmnn, my sister’ Ngozi took a deep breath and delved into her story. It was as if she had been waiting for someone to listen for a while.
I took my toddler to the living room, switched on the Television and scrolled to his favorite cartoon channel. Once he heard CocoMelon, he screamed and dragged his chair closer to the TV, promptly forgetting about me and the reason for his earlier angst.
‘My husband has hit me three times. I still have the bruises from the last incident. I believed he was going to stop before, but it’s clear my life is in danger now. I am done with my marriage, but I am scared of leaving because I don’t want to leave my daughter behind’.
I was fully alert now, scrambling for a pen and paper from my book shelve in the mini library, I held the phone in between my ear and shoulder blade and wrote. ‘Okay, sis, you made a good decision to get out before it’s too late, and don’t worry, your daughter will be with you’.
‘I have reasons to believe he wants to take her from me, he has asked for our wedding certificate and my baby’s birth certificate on several occasions’. Ngozi replied.
Haibo! That guy has some serious plans! I thought to myself.
Calmly I said ‘We have a series of questions we ask at WARIF, in order to determine if we are able to handle a particular situation. If it turns out we are unable to, we turn the matter over to DSVRT, that’s the domestic and sexual violence response team- an agency under the Lagos state Government’.
‘Erm, okay you can send me the questions, I will try to answer them’.
She answered them faster than I thought, I reduced the heat of the gas cooker and let my vegetable soup simmer as I saw her number flash on my screen once. When I checked the phone there was a long row of voice notes on Whatsapp from her. Her voice was so soft, I wondered how she maintained that quality, considering all that she was going through.
I called her: ‘Ngozi, from your replies, we definitely have to go to DSVRT, It appears that you may need to be extracted with your daughter in case of Emergency’.
She made a tsking sound that implicated she already guessed her case would need further help.
‘Can you give me some background into what really caused this recent assault?’ I asked her.
‘I will even start from the beginning so that you will understand me clearly. We had courted for just a couple of months before he wanted us to agree to a wedding date’. Ngozi began.
‘The signs were there. I’m sure my subconscious is snarling at me now, since I purposely ignored all the nagging thoughts about why his family wanted a quick wedding. I guess I also coveted the married class dearly, so I assured my family that everything was okay’.
I offered a silent thanks to God for making this conversation happen on phone, because my repeated eye rolling could have discouraged her.
‘Sis are you there?’ Ngozi probed. I quickly assured her I was with her and listening rapidly. I hope this lady isn’t telepathic?
She continued. “A childhood friend of mine who was married to his younger brother laughed aloud when she heard the news. I bristled at her effrontery’! :“Eeewo! Ngozi, have you done your findings well? What about his temper? she shouted this at me’
‘Me, I waved it off as I believed actions between a husband and wife should be discussed only with each other and not a third party’.
I put the phone on speaker so I could throw my hands on my head. Chaii!
‘I think say Na jealousy dey worry am o, but now I can say that was my first mistake’. Ngozi finished.
‘Ah, thank God you realize now that, ignoring red flags is a mistake’. I gently interjected. ‘Better late than never’. I smirked as I placed my palms over the steam emitting from the vegetable soup. (This is something my toddler always does, I’m surprised that I’m now copying him, talk about influencers).
‘Please continue jor’.
She sighed and delved into her marriage story.
MARRIAGE.
‘We got married in September. Shortly after, he left his job. He did not lose it, He left it’!
‘Ehen! What was the excuse o?’ I pursed my lips in the way Yoruba Aunties does when they wanted to reveal the foolishness of a decision you made. This pattern sounded like a familiar plot to me already.
‘He claimed it was too stressful. I watched him, utterly dumbfounded. I was pregnant and penniless in school at this period. I was also about writing my final year exams’.
‘He had paid part of my accommodation and school fees. But I was not eating well as I get belle na, I dey chop for two person so I dey always H’. I was always hungry as I was pregnant.
‘I can relate sis, belle H nor be here’ I laughed. H as in hungry, pregnancy hormones refused to leave me after birthing in fact, the amount of Eba presently heaped on my plate could attest to that. That reminds me, CocoMelon had finished playing so I check on my son. Sprawled on the settee now, he was snoring softly. God be praised!
‘The N3, 000 pocket money he sent me weekly could barely cover my transport costs, never mind being able to get lunch. My mother augmented this by sending foodstuffs every month’.
‘God bless our Mothers’. I mumbled.
Ngozi smiled, ‘Amen! His siblings also occasionally helped cushion our needs too sha. Erm.. I think they did this when I delivered the baby, they paid the discharge fees, yes. In hindsight, this reliance on his family members was my second mistake as this gave them the leeway to insult me at will’.
‘They insulted you?’ I penned down humiliation, under the subtitle “Patterns” in my jotter. I was expecting this, it comes with the territory.
‘Yes sis, I will just be hearing: you will soon return to your cockroach infested house in the village when we send you out’.
Ah! I desperately tried to swallow the eba lodged in my throat, I had involuntarily gasped at her last words. Threats! I ticked off another Heading.
‘I knew things had to be different at that point. Thankfully, God worked out a plan for me, as I completed my mandatory youth service and got a job at an auditing firm in Lagos shortly afterwards’.
I had finished my bowl of Eba and was suppressing yawns at this point, but there was no way I would not get to the bottom of the story, I hoped she wasn’t tired too and asked if she wanted to still continue tonight, we had been on the phone for hours.
‘It’s true o, sorry sister, I have finished your credit in fact. Chai’, even my daughter has slept off too, though she used a cough syrup earliear’. Let’s continue tomorrow Nne’.
‘don’t worry about that sis, since tomorrow is Saturday, we will have time to gist well’. But I’m going to brief my colleague about every thing you told me tonight’
‘No wahala, good night sis, and thank you for everything;
‘it’s my pleasure’.
SATURDAY, 8:00AM.
ASSAULT.
Immediately I ticked the chores off my to-do list, I place the call.
“Amara, how are you and baby girl today, did you sleep well’?
“He is nearby’ she whispered.
‘Oh my God’! I bit my tongue hard. The gum I was chewing had escaped to a vacant tooth spot. Foolish me, why didn’t I send a text first?
‘It’s okay, I’m going to the toilet now’.
‘What if he comes there’? Does she like to take risks? On my patterns list, there is a segment for “cutting off prospective rescuer by abusers” I was prime to be canceled if he found me out.
‘He never uses the guest toilet, only myself and my baby does’.
‘Be careful though’. I’m always befuddled about how victims don’t see the imminent danger their abusers pose till it’s too late. One thing survivors tell me is to never under estimate their abusers. That’s the marginal difference between a survivor and a victim.
‘let me kuku go out so we can talk freely’. Ngozi said.
‘better o, I nor fit shout abeg’.
I heard the honking of cars and knew she was far away from the house before she spoke again. ‘Ehen, sister the first time he hit me, I was caught unawares. The shock erased even the memory of the issue that led to him doing that’.
‘I covered my shame and embarrassment with layers of cosmetics over the scar. I struggled with the reality that my marital bliss was over, as I moved around in a daze for days’. my hand held the phone tighter. Jeez!
‘He said to me: “I apologize, ‘I don’t know what came over me’. sis, I now realize that i just swallowed the usual excuse.
‘The second time it happened, my sanity reduced by half. Granted, I was acting on maternal hormones. I and my baby had been sleeping by him in the hospital for a while due to a non diagnosed illness. In the midst of that I could see myself and my baby falling prey to hospital induced malaria’.
‘Hmnnn, I understand, Lagos hospital mosquitoes are usually larger than life’. I replied in understanding. I had been in her shoes before, having stayed with my toddler in the hospital to treat diarrhea and then coming home with Malaria.
‘One day, I got upset and asked him to go to a church with me, to pray for healing. The only response I got? A fist smacked into my face’
‘Goddam it’!
‘Ehn, How dare you complain about your job? Did you not vow to nurture, love and care? In sickness and in health’?
‘chai’. I replied, closing my eyes to imagine the ugly scenario.
‘note that each questions came with slaps’.
‘Sh*t’!
‘yesso! Right there, the definition of terror hit me, because even though I grabbed a kitchen knife to threaten him, my body was shaking as he kept coming at me till I dropped the knife and turned to run for dear life’.
‘Gosh’! I could only manage monotones now.
’‘Then I turned back’.
‘Chimoo! But why?’ I hoped my voice wasn’t trembling by now.
‘He flung my baby out of his way as he was rushing to catch me, she had been crying and holding his trousers’.
‘MotherF**k*r!’ I didn’t know when the expletive escaped my mouth.
‘uhn, actually I don’t think he will do that on a normal day, he was just blind with hate for me that day’.
‘Whatever’!! I replied heatedly. ugh! I hate making excuses for suckers. What if the child had gotten wounded in the process?
Ngozi laughed a little. A mirthless laughter that bubbled out from your heart to your mouth in solidarity of enmity. ‘That’s when I then snapped. I knew he had gone totally berserk and I had to incapacitate him before he mistakenly hurt my child’.
‘So I hit him, on his tummy, at the exact spot of his ailment. As he fell, I gave myself a mental thumbs up, for mother’s love.
‘hahhahaha, I’m here giving you a mother’s hi five’. I raised up my left palm as if Ngozi could see me.
‘PAH!’ she answered in return, creating the sound that children make when smacking their palms with each other. This lady knows what’s up. I smiled.
‘I took some pictures of my swollen face and went to see a nurse on my street for medications, also for evidence value in case it was ever needed in court’.
‘Good job’. I stood up and stretched my body. The story had tensed me up a bit.
‘The third time he hit me, I was ready’. Ngozi’s voice had taken on a sharper edge.
‘ghen ghen’! I cocked my head and blew my gum wide, Chewing loudly. This is what I like to hear.
‘My mother was in town’. she continued. ‘she had come to spend some time with my brother who was relocating abroad. I had been pondering for a while on how best to broach the subject of an overnight visit to my husband, as I knew that he loathed my mother with passion’.
‘I want to go and visit my brother in Surulere and we may stay overnight there’. I said to him after lunch that day’.
‘He squeezed his face as usual and asked me, Who’s we?’
‘I replied that it was me and baby of course. He cleared me that his child is not going anywhere with me’.
‘Then I faced him squarely and asked, “Why can’t I take her to see my brother? are they going to kidnap her?”. ‘Sis he shouted: ‘Exactly! That is what they plan to do’!
‘I asked him, Who is they’ and he replied that he knows it’s my mother:
‘ You think I don’t know it’s your mother? I don’t want that woman to influence my daughter like she did to you, finish.’
‘Imagine that!’ I chipped in.
‘But why? If she can go to see your mother, then she should be able to see my mother too’. “that was all I said o, just before world war III started’. she started laughing then.
I stood up again. Ngozi’s laugh seemed odd to my ears, it smelt of falseness.
‘Did you just mention my mother? WOOHLAH! Backhand slap! I fell down from the chair I was sitting on’
‘JESUSSS!’ I shouted, the picture was very vivid to me.
She continued ‘I stood up calmly and picked up my phone, dialed his sister’s number with my left hand while holding my cheek with my right hand, it felt warm’:
‘I sobbed into the phone and said sister, good afternoon, please talk to your brother, he doesn’t want me to take Susan to see my mom’. ‘do you know what she said?’ she asked me to guess. I was blank though, and even if I was in my senses I woudn’t have answered because I had some horror movie line in my head.
After a long stretch of silence I heard a sniffle. I asked her ‘Ngozi, are you crying’?
‘yes. And its funny because that was what she asked me too’.
I breathed out in relief. Glad her sense of humour was still intact.
‘so what did you tell her?’
‘of course I’m crying. He hit me, and he’s coming back for more’.
‘Chimoo, brother please take it easy o, Ngozi put me on speaker please’. ‘Apparently my husband heard her and asked me to drop the phone or else he would injure me. I dropped the phone quickly but not the call’.
‘CORRECT!’ I shouted, rubbing my right arm. There is nothing as sweet as evidence in a domestic violence case. The coffin only needs some few nails by then.
‘He comes nearer and grabs my neck in a chokehold. I spoke loudly then, ‘You slapped me and now you are choking me’? he replied that he will do it again and to any of my family that may shows up in his house.
A police escort passes by and blows it’s siren loudly, disrupting our flow for a few seconds. I cursed the Inspector General of police and all his unruly boys that disturbs people’s peace for no reason.
‘come again abeg’. I whined. Pleading with her to repeat the part I missed.
‘I said my left eye had swollen shut by then’. Ngozi repeated. ‘I widened my right eye to glance at the phone I dropped on the chair, as his sister was pleading with him not to hurt me. I felt more of elation than the stings of his slaps’
I was tapping my feet while shaking my head along now. This guy time has to pay,nobody can tell me otherwise.
She proceed to describe where the bruises were on her body. ‘Ah, pele, I’m so sorry dear’ I said to her, my voice breaking.
‘Thanks sister, I consider a small price to pay for freedom, they got me my evidence”’.
LOLADE
‘Wow! What a whirlwind! What turbulence’.
‘na so o, I don suffer ehn!’. truly, no one deserves to suffer this.
‘What do you want to do now’?
‘I don’t want to fight. I just want out, and out with my daughter’. Ngozi said with her soft voice.
I removed the phone from my ear and mouthed at it ‘me, I will fight, nonsense’. I said to her instead ‘The odds are in your favor, let’s call DSVRT, and book an appointment for Monday’.
We exchanged goodbyes and then I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. ‘Jehovah, keep her safe till then oh’. I went back to my favorite room in the house: the story had knotted my stomach and I just had to erase my hunger.
NGOZI, SATURDAY NIGHT.
WHATSAPP MESSAGE.
‘Sis, well done o. so his brother from the US called to say that since we have gotten to the level of domestic violence, he thinks we should separate and my husband agreed. He’s given me four days to leave, but without my daughter’.
I dialed her number.“Wow, this is a twist I didn’t see coming at this stage.’ I replied her, thinking fast. I was already in bed and feeling drowsy. ‘That is an advantage, perhaps neater this way’?
‘Yes, I am very happy, I have even started packing my things, but what about my daughter?’ she whispered.
‘She goes with you girl, relax, even if DSVRT has to come and get you both out, I have complete faith in them. They will abide by their enabling statute’. I lowered my voice in return, suppressing a wide yawn.
‘He says there is a family meeting involving me to be held by four PM on Sunday. What will I say there?’
‘Nothing, because you aren’t going there babe. I will think of something before then and put my people on alert’.
‘I will also think of something and get back to you’
‘Ok , good, now cut the phone goodnight’. I didn’t wait for her reply as I terminated the call. this woman and playing with fire. I thought as I drifted off to sleep.
SUNDAY MORNING
‘Sis! I’m in trouble’.
Eii Jehovah! I sat down on the best in the midst of wearing my “Sunday best” dress. ‘Ngozi, I can literally hear the panic in your voice even though you are whispering. What is the problem?’
‘He saw me packing my things this morning and then took my daughter to church by himself, which is highly unusual, what do I do?’
‘Calm down! He wants to feed your fear. Go to church and see what next happens’.
AT THE CHURCH.
‘Aunty Usher, well done o, please help me call my daughter out’. Ngozi tried a shaky smile at the entrance of the children church.
‘Oh Okay, mum mijay, right?’ the usher looked Ngozi over once. She definitely wasn’t dressed for service.
She returns and then say, ‘I’m sorry ma, but she doesn’t want to follow you’.
‘What?’ Ngozi fought to quell her rising panic. ‘My own daughter?’
The usher shrugged and crossed his arms over each other, taking his stance as security by the door again.
‘Can I go in to see her?’ Ngozi was already moving inside.
‘Yes ma’. the usher hissed after her.
she goes in and notice her husband’s cousin who is a member of the adult church sitting nearby, ‘oh I see, madam security’ she thought and mentally prepared for battle.
‘Mama, come let’s go’. her smile reached her eyes this time.
‘No, mummy I don’t want to go’. Mijay replied her mom, hugging herself and looking at her feet.
Ngozi moaned and held her chest, she wondered if anyone heard the sound of her heart shattering. What could they have told her? she looked carefully at her daughter, and decided a trick won’t hurt her since she was resolved to leave the church with her.
‘Mama, are you thirsty? Let’s go and get some drinks outside’.
Just like that, Mijay stood up, dusted her clothe and jumped on her mother.
Ngozi spared the cousin a backward glance on her way out.
‘Are you taking her home? Where are you going to now’?
‘Question!’ Ngozi curved raised her hand and curved her fingers towards her in an absolute rude move, then sauntered out.
The moment she got to the church gate, she sprinted towards her Uber at the bus stop.
‘oga moooveeeeeeeee’ she screamed at the man, glancing back to check if anyone was following them.
‘Yes Ma’!!! The driver replied, speeding smoothly away.
He understood the assignment.
FREEDOM AT LAST.
LOLADE
Ngozi calls, ‘Sister! I’m out, I’m out, I’m out with my daughter’.
I jumped and did a small dance in the Church, Glory!!
The ushers approach me.
I pick up my bag and step out.
‘Congrats girl I’m so happy for you and your baby’!
This is the sound of victory.
All we need to do now is make it to DSVRT tomorrow. A separation and custody issue already swings on one side of the pendulum. Who knows? Maybe a suit for domestic violence might swing the other way.
To be continued…
#domesticviolence #domesticviolencesurvivors #nonfiction #truelifestories #documentourstories #documentourhisstory #WARIF #DSVRT #Nigeria #
