My husband would always beat me and throw my things outside of the house.

The truth is, I got married to my husband when I was just 19 years old.

And sincerely, I didn’t want to get married.

I had just gained admission into school, and my dream was simple. I wanted to finish school, get a good job, and then settle down.

But then this man started coming to my parents.

He kept telling them that he loved me and wanted to marry me.

He would come with wine.

He would come with goodies.

He kept giving my parents things and telling them that even if we got married, he would still allow me to continue my education.

My mother especially would not let me rest.

She kept telling me, “It is better you marry now. You may say you want to finish school and get a job before you marry, but sometimes opportunity comes only once.”

She would tell me that the man looked like a good person.

“Where will you see this kind of man again after school? If you marry him now, he will train you in school and he can also help this family.”

And to be honest, my family was struggling at that time.

But I still didn’t want to marry.

This man looked like he was in his late thirties or early forties, while I was only 19.

The age difference alone made me uncomfortable.

But my mother kept encouraging me until I agreed to go on a date with him.

When we went out, he treated me well.

He ordered food for us.

We ate together.

And when I was going back home, he gave me 100,000 naira.

I didn’t want to collect it, but he insisted.

He told me I was going back to school and would need money for one thing or another.

On the day I was returning to school, he came with his car.

He carried my bags, drove me to school and told me to be a good girl.

He promised to visit me often.

And as a young girl, I started thinking, “Maybe this man isn’t actually bad. Maybe my mother is right. Maybe I should give this marriage a chance.”

That was how I got married.

I didn’t know that this man was not looking for a wife he could build with.

He was looking for a young girl he could control.

A girl he could manipulate.

A girl who would be too young to question him.

That was why he didn’t look for a woman around his age or someone who was already established.

He came for a 19-year-old girl.

And I became that girl.

Anytime we had an issue and I tried to advise him, he would slap me.

He would ask me, “Are you the one that gave me money?”

“Where were you when I was making my money?”

“Who are you to advise me?”

Sometimes he would remind me that I was just a small girl he married.

And that was when I started understanding that this was not the kind of marriage I had imagined.

I got pregnant immediately after he married me.

The pregnancy affected me badly.

I was weak almost throughout, and I couldn’t continue my education.

He told me that after I gave birth, I would go back to school.

But while my mates were moving into 300 level, I was at home battling with motherhood.

I eventually gave birth, but when my baby was just six months old, I became pregnant again.

My head wanted to explode at this moment, because I felt I was just going backward in life after marriage.

But guess what, even in pregnancy, the beating didn’t stop.

And whenever my husband wanted to beat me, he didn’t care whether I had just given birth, whether I was pregnant or whether I was weak.

He would beat me black and blue and throw my things outside.

Sometimes, I would stand in the rain.

Sometimes, I would sleep at a neighbour’s house until his anger calmed down.

Then I would quietly return home.

This continued.

I wanted to leave.

I wanted to go back to my parents.

I was still very young.

But whenever I told my mother what was happening, she would say,

“My daughter, it is the woman that builds a home.”

“If you know that advising your husband is what makes him beat you, why don’t you keep your big mouth shut?”

“Just be a good wife.”

I once asked her, “Mummy, what if this man kills me?”

She told me, “He will not kill you. Just endure and be prayerful.”

Then she reminded me that this man was helping the family.

He was giving them 200,000 naira every month.

He was training my younger brother in school.

My elder brother was also serving him and working for him.

She would say, “If you come back now, what are we going to do? We are not stable yet. Please endure.”

And because of that, I stayed much longer than I should have.

At some point, I started looking at my life and asking myself, “How did I get myself into this mess?”

I was only 19.

I had a bright future.

I wanted to study Medical Laboratory Science.

But here I was, trapped in the house of a rich man who didn’t even see me as his wife.

He saw me as someone he had power over.

Whenever he threw me out, he would tell me,

“I know you will not go anywhere.”

“I know your greedy parents will not allow you to come back because I am the one taking care of them.”

“I am the one training your brother.”

“I am the one giving them money.”

And slowly, I started believing that maybe this was my cross.

Maybe I was the one who was supposed to suffer so my family could survive.

Maybe this was what I had to endure as the first daughter.

So I decided to follow my mother’s advice.

I stopped advising him.

I stopped giving suggestions.

If he spoke, I kept quiet.

If he made a decision, I kept quiet.

I told myself, “This man made his money before he married me. Maybe I don’t have any right to tell him how to run his life.”

Until one particular day.

My husband came back from work angry.

He complained about customers at his shop.

He complained about my brother who was serving him.

He complained that my brother was not active enough.

He complained that he was wasting money on my family.

He kept saying things like, “Sometimes I wonder why I even married into this family.”

I didn’t say anything.

I kept his food on the dining table.

I kept everything he needed there.

I didn’t want to talk.

I was three months pregnant at that time, and honestly, I didn’t have the strength to be beaten that night.

But suddenly he looked at me and said,

“Are you not the one I’m talking to?”

I kept quiet.

He said, “So I am now a fool in my own house?”

I still didn’t answer.

Then he started accusing me of deliberately ignoring him.

I finally told him, “I don’t know what to say. Anytime I talk, you beat me.”

He looked at me and said,

“So I’m now a woman beater?”

“Okay. I will show you what a woman beater looks like today.”

He reached for his belt.

I tried to run.

He caught me.

And he beat me with that belt until I started bleeding.

He eventually rushed me to the hospital.

And that was how I lost my pregnancy.

When I came back home, I cried throughout.

Yes, I was not mentally prepared for another baby.

My first baby was only six months old.

But the moment that baby came, I had accepted the pregnancy as a blessing.

And now, because of the violence of the man I married, that baby was gone.

He didn’t apologize.

He didn’t tell me he was sorry.

He simply told me that I was the one who made him beat me because I called him a woman beater.

The next day, after he went to work, my neighbour came to see me.

She looked at me and asked, “Why are you still here?”

I told her everything.

I told her I wanted to leave, but my elder brother was serving my husband.

My younger brother was in school because my husband was paying his fees.

My parents were depending on the money he gave them every month.

I told her I didn’t know how my family would survive if I left.

She looked at me and said something that changed my life.

She said, “Let me tell you something. If you die today, this family you think you are sacrificing your life for will eventually move on.”

“They will cry.”

“They will mourn you.”

“And after some time, they will continue with their lives.”

“But you will be the one lying in the grave.”

She told me, “You need to leave this marriage before it becomes too late.”

“You are still young.”

“Don’t allow one marriage to destroy your entire life.”

Then she said something that hurt me but opened my eyes.

She said, “Your parents are using you to solve a problem they should be solving themselves.”

That night, I looked at my life differently.

And I told myself, “The earlier I leave, the better.”

For the first time in my life, I decided to put myself first.

I took my baby and left.

Before leaving, I removed my SIM card completely.

I knew myself.

If my husband threatened my parents, or my parents started crying and begging me to come back, I knew my heart would soften and I might return.

So I disappeared.

I also took some of the money I had access to from the house, about three million naira, because at that point I needed to survive and start a new life.

I didn’t care anymore about what anybody would say.

I just wanted to be alive.

I found a place to stay and started a small business.

I focused on myself.

I focused on my baby.

I focused on rebuilding the life I had almost lost.

For one whole year, I worked on myself and tried to become stable again.

Then I went back and filed for divorce.

My husband was shocked when he saw me.

I think he expected that I would eventually crawl back home.

But I didn’t.

I told him, “I cannot continue in this marriage. You will kill me.”

It was when I came back that I discovered he had stopped training my younger brother in school.

He also refused to settle my elder brother who was serving him.

My brother had only spent about a year serving him, so it wasn’t as if his whole life was already tied to that job.

And honestly, at that point, I didn’t care anymore.

I had finally understood that I could not sacrifice my life so that everyone else could live comfortably.

My baby needed a mother.

And I needed to survive.

By God’s grace, I got divorced.

I went back to school.

I finished my education.

And when I turned 25, God brought someone into my life.

I met a man who didn’t want to control me.

A man who wanted to build with me.

A man who saw me as a partner, not property.

We got married.

And honestly, it was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

My new husband is not a woman beater.

He loves me.

He takes care of me.

He listens to me.

He respects my opinions.

He doesn’t make me feel like I need permission to exist in my own home.

He doesn’t use money to control me.

He builds with me.

And sometimes, when I look at the life I have today, I ask myself, “What if I had stayed?”

What if I had listened to everyone telling me to endure?

What if my neighbour had not spoken to me that day?

What if I had died in that house?

I don’t even want to imagine it.

As for my ex-husband, the last I heard, he is still looking for another 19-year-old girl to marry.

But this time, I pray that whoever he meets will have the courage to recognize the signs before it is too late.

Because marriage is not supposed to be a prison.

And being a good wife does not mean allowing someone to destroy you.

Today, I am grateful that I finally chose myself.

I am grateful that I left.

And above everything, I am grateful to God that my story did not end at 19.

Sometimes, the decision that saves your life is the one everyone around you is telling you not to make.

Morals:

1. Parents should do their part and work for the life they want for their children, so they don’t put their daughters under pressure to provide the life they couldn’t give themselves.

2. Never stay in a place that is destroying you just because everyone tells you to endure. Your life is more important than marriage.