For the sake of ‘Peace’- Part 2

Hi guys!

I honestly hope we learn a thing or two from this story. Read the first part here.

My good friend put this up a few days ago, ‘Better to be single and happy than married and miserable’. Ladies (and gentlemen), please keep that in mind whenever you feel a tinge of envy or pain that all your friends are getting married or engaged and you are all alone. Marriage is too important to be messed with or entered into without caution. Get excited, not for that one day, but for the future ahead, the real deal, the Marriage.

Another good friend, who is an events manager told me a great wedding can take up to a year of planning. That is a 6-10 hour event. How much more should we take in planning a marriage, which we pray will last forever. Go figure!

Please read and learn.

Love lots,

Temi.x

Marrying you, Dipo was a mistake I knowingly made. It’s like a young girl letting that boy run his hands down her blouse. As his fingers descend, she knows it’s wrong, she knows she should stop him but she lets him go on anyway; not because of any pleasure she feels but because she just wants to go ahead. Now I know it to be self destruct. Oladipo Richard Adeyele, marrying you was an exercise in self destruction.

Surprisingly, the first 6 months as Mrs. Oladipo R. Adeyele were blissful. I changed my display name to that and our perfect wedding photo was constantly my DP. I felt bliss. Thinking back now, I felt that way because I had no expectations whatsoever. Wrong! I had expectations alright. I expected you to start cheating within the first month. Darn, I even knew one of your exes who had the nerve to show up at our wedding in the tightest, boob baring bandage dress I have ever seen, grinding with one of the groomsmen whilst you, my husband looked on, mesmerized then jealous by her show of shame.

Dipo, you surprised me. You see, dear readers, Dipo was not a great or loving man but he let me be. He would eat whatever I served and say a polite thanks. He would text me ‘I’m running late’ if he would be home after 9pm. He would compliment my homemaking efforts before his friends and family. He would gobble down my ogbono experiment which recipe I got from the Facebook page- So you think you can cook. The sex with him was mechanical, efficient, machine like, ritualistic- kiss, fondle, sex – in that order- nothing like I’d hoped but it was okay and at least, got me pregnant in the 10th month of our marriage.

My dream had come true! Finally, he would pet me, cuddle me or at least cuddle my bump. I had finally gotten the glue to bind us in love. I was already 3 months pregnant before noticing. I was one of those medical mysteries because I still saw my period during the first 2 months of my pregnancy so though I had gained a bit of weight, I had attributed it to my many trips to Ice-cream Factory. I was slower and easily tired, but I zeroed my mind that it could never be down to pregnancy. It was my mother in law who practically forced me to get tested. I called Dipo so excitedly as I left the clinic. Oladipo, you were so excited! You screamed. I’d never been the source of so much joy from you and I was so proud of myself. I grinned from ear to ear like a Chesire cat as I drove back to work.

One day, at 4 months gone, you snapped at me as I got ready to go to your office dinner, ‘can you not find something else to wear?! Your folds are all over the place, Sade in my office is 7 months pregnant and rolls are not hanging everywhere, do something about it woman, I don’t do obesity!’ I didn’t know that tears had started rolling down until I tasted the saltiness. Everyone else had said I was looking fit and great in pregnancy. They said I glowed. But I only believed your words. As I grew bigger, I’d get changed in the bathroom before coming out. I’d wear Body Magic. I didn’t want you to see the ‘rolls and folds’.

Nkechi, my friend was also pregnant and spoke of still having sex with her husband and still being just as desirable to him. She made me blush at her tales of their escapades in and out of bed. Dipo, you and I had stopped engaging in anything remotely related to lovemaking at 4 and a half months into my pregnancy. I felt ugly, disgusting, fat. And so I started using slimming products. I looked for the most drastic in result I could find. I read the instructions carefully and there it was- a healthy, herbal, natural slimming aid. It must be safe, I thought to myself. Within the first 2 weeks, I lost weight enough for you, Dipo, to notice and comment on. I was giddy with joy. Yay! I’d be just like Victoria Beckham and look so slim immediately after child birth. I decided to increase the dosage and it worked. The folds reduced, my thighs had that gap between them, my neck had a hollow. I only had vegetables, fruit and the shake that came with the slimming package. After a month of using, in my 6th month, we had sex, at your instance. I was looking great. That night, I gained your attention. That night, I lost our son.

You wept on the hospital floor. I was numb. The doctor, an elderly family friend, was merciless. I thought it was unprofessional to outrightly blame a woman for her own miscarriage. The doctor threw professionalism to the wind and blamed me for not eating right. My weight was not commensurate with how far along I was given my last statistics when I saw her. I weighed less than I did 3 months before and only had a bump and not as much body to show for my pregnancy. I dared not confess that I was also on drugs to stay slim. She probably would have slapped me there and then. Rightly too. I wanted to kick myself.

On our drive home, you were quiet. I tried to play the victim and would periodically hold on to my belly as though in pain just to get you to touch me and comfort me. Darn! I was the one who had lost her child. But you were having none of it and all you said was, ‘if you need to see the doctor, lemme turn back’. I knew I had lost the battle.

3 months after the miscarriage, on the exact day our son would have turned one week old, I saw the first sign of your infidelity. You received a call, smiled when you saw who was calling and walked out to receive it. You were on the phone for 45 minutes, laughing intermittently. I knew I was in trouble.

You came back to the house, went straight to our room, had a second bath and got dressed in your best casual native attire, your newest sandals and perfume, took the keys to the new car and mumbled, ‘I’m going out and don’t keep the keys in the lock ’cause I’ll let myself in’. I knew it was over.

I waited for you. My favorite show was on but all I saw were the blurry figures on the screen through my tears. I had finished a whole bottle of white wine. I turn to alcohol when sad. That night, I was worse than sad, I was depressed. It was as though I was waiting for the inevitable sentence of death on my marriage. At 1:15am, you walked in. You were sober and looked happy until you saw me. I brought your straight face out. As much as I wanted and was almost physically itching to, I dared not ask where you had been for two reasons: 1. Early on in our relationship, you had warned me never to inquire as to your whereabouts unless you willingly offered an explanation. 2. I was scared you would be honest and tell me where exactly you had been and the answer would break me. I’d rather not know for sure. So through my post drunken state, I said, ‘welcome, should I bring your food?’.

There was no food but I just wanted to act normal and I was certain you would say no. To my shock, you said yes and proceeded to change the station to watch the replay of your favorite teams’ match screaming at each goal, missed or scored. That confirmed one thing- you had spent the evening and night with someone who didn’t care for football and you sacrificed such a big match for them. You were certainly not with one of the boys, certainly not. I was able to whip up something for you, quickly enough for you not to suspect I’d just started cooking it. You ate it, totally fixated on the tv screen, totally ignoring me. Quietly, I walked to the room and slept off. The time was 2:46 am.

 

To be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

 

21 comments

  1. This post touches a number of sore spots for me. But sometimes how do you really know the things about a person that would change or the things that won’t. The whole marraige concept is scary on its own esp cuz of the “forever” aspect, then you add the human factor. Which just makes it worse.

    1. This story is different. she knew what she was getting into. she just decided to go on a suicide mission. I pray all ends well for her. Am sure if she had broke of the engagement right from the beginning, she would have gotten someone to love her right. Ladies please learn from this story.

  2. I’m just speechless. This is my sister’s life. She’s 42 and still sad. Her husband married his mistress though. Too bloody sad. Look before you leap.

  3. I hope Part 4 has a happy ending. A lot of women do anything to get married, even if they know the man is wrong for them. And because they are married, they stay in there, even in physically abusive situations, so that their obituaries will read ‘Mrs so-and-so’. My pastor once said ‘marriage is to be enjoyed, not endured’. I think single women would dwell to heed that saying.

  4. I totally agree with u Joxy. In the bible, one can divorce if one’s partner is unfaithful. It irks me when some women continue to endure hardship just because of what society or their church is telling them. Gbeke should never have married this man in the first place. Now she has to deal with the consequences. All she can do now is to get her act together. I thank God for His grace and mercy. I don’t know how part 4 will turn out but Gbeke needs time off this marriage, time for sober reflection, time to heal and re-evaluate this relationship. I feel that she is so dependent on Dipo that she has lost herself in this relationship. Being the perfect wife to a husband that has no regard for her. Is this marriage worth saving. If after all this, she realises she cannot continue with the marriage, she should end it and move on. God is faithful. He is a God of second chances. Her happiness is what is most important

  5. Pls finish it soon I want to know the end lovely piece and great lesson to women there is no rush marriage comes in Gods time

  6. Temi you write so well! sadly enough, this could be someone’s story… I pray God restores peace, love, respect and happiness back into anyone going through such a thing.
    you really made some very good points there… marriage is not a competition, we should always look well before we leap! waiting for PT4

  7. good writing….I hope Part 4 will end well.
    I have a big question.I hope you can help.I am a 24yr old final year medical student.I have a boyfriend who is gainfully employed.He is a product of a broken marriage and that put my mum off initially.We both love each other.But recently,i started praying about our marriage and its like i hear the spirit tell me he is not my husband.This happened about 6months ago.I broke up with him.It was a struggle.Later we started talking again.I have fallen in love all over again.I am confused.I still hear in my mind that he is not my husband.But he is such a fantastic guy.He practically worships me.
    I know about following God’s purpose for your life and all but there is no other person that looks like “the one” around me for now.I am very comfortable with this guy.Its not like he is rich or very handsome but he is enough.My family accepts him and his family adores me.I am scared that if i go on and marry him,something bad might happen.This is the first important decision in my life that I have to make myself.What if he is God’s purpose and I am just scared of making a decision?What if its not? How can God make me love him so much and then say he his not mine? I am so confused

    1. First of all, i will like to let you know i admire you age and the level you are in the uni, you’ll be starting off early in life, good one. Now my own story, graduated at 23, was inlove with this great guy i had to break up with because God told me expressly he is not my husband, no doubts about that, infact, if not for lack of understanding, He told me before the relationship started, but i did not understand him at that time; i was in pains for 2yrs bcos i had to let go, it was more than difficult bcos i couldn’t blif i’ll meet anyone beta. So, i put it back to God, he is my father and i’m his responsibility, i told Him i am making this decision bcos of Him and He shld ensure I dont regret it. Met several great guys after that guy and i still got the same response, not your husband; there was still last guy i met that was simply perfect, God’s compensation for me but the same thing still came, clearer than ever sef, NOT YOUR HUSBAND! I’m now 28 and engaged to this young man that i kicked away with all the strength i had, but i told someone that did not what was happening to pray with me about a decision i needed to make bcos honestly as at that time, i was not only fed up, i was at the same time angry. My friend came back 2wks later and narrated to me his dream that was in three parts (remember, he did not know what i was going tru, i only told him to pray long with me on a decision i was about to make). The first part was simply him telling me all the unspoken words of my heart that i did not share with anyone apart from God, mehn! i froze as he started, 2nd part was a dream i had way back like 8yrs earlier and the 3rd part was a revelation i had weeks earlier. Yes, i froze and had to hold back tears bcos my friend was just talking, not knowing what he was saying, but blived i’ll understand it and was even asking me what it was all about.

      That was how i called back the guy i kicked away and started getting to know him, now I know truly, every “not your husband’ I got was really from God as this guy has all my fantasies put togeda into a piece. So my sister, if you are willing, the risk is worth taking; He will heal your pains and time will fade it away and by the time He brings your husband, you will be grateful to him

  8. Great write – up….. God just answered my prayers through the write up just before the story….Thank you for being the vessel.

  9. This is actually quite annoying to read. Someone who sees all the signs but still chooses to self destruct. I’m guessing she had a trying childhood, otherwise why would anyone believe he or she is not deserving of being truly loved?

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