Bondage: Highlighting the woes of enslaved women.

photocredit: pexels

"Next time put more make up on, the bruises are showing!" Tunde hissed at me as his grip tightened around my wrist, his calloused palm hurting my skin

I nodded timidly and followed him into the eatery. His friend had invited us to a party. I had to make myself pretty for Tunde, i didn't want to risk annoying him a second time. I had already annoyed him earlier by serving him rice without meat. I had used my money to prepare that meal, Tunde had lost all his savings playing Bet9ja.

"Are you stupid? Do i look like a child to you"

He had barked before his hand blinded me. The force had thrown me against the wall. My left cheek was swollen from the abuse, stinging with pain but i managed to cover it with my make up skills.

---

photocredit:Black women art

"Laura, what happened now? Why is your face like this?"

My friends would ask me but i would fake a smile and wave it off with a lie. I always praise Tunde in their midst. I tell them how lucky i am and how happy I and Tunde are. I shut out the ebbing pain in my heart. I forget the belt whips and rampant slapping. I forget the constant raping and the incessant name calling.

No, Tunde would change. He is my heart. Deep down inside he is a good man. He will change!

"You cannot change the stripes of a cheetah, no matter how hard you try" My mother had said. She was the first one to see through Tunde.

But i ignored her advice. Even Peter had sensed something off about Tunde, the first time i introduced them.
Peter was a good friend and a colleague i had known for years. He had asked me to date him in my second year but i rejected him. I had wanted Tunde. Tunde had all the traits i admired. He was tall, broad-shouldered, well-built and articulated. He had beautiful pink lips complemented by a charming beard. His eyes where dark and captivating and his nose was pointed. Peter was everything Tunde wasn't. He was of average height, pale thin lipped, wiry in build and he couldn't speak good English.

"Laura, you are slimming down. Are you not feeding well?" Peter had later asked me, visibly disturbed.

I was not feeding well, Tunde drained me and stifled me. He did not let me continue with school when his GPA dropped below 1.0.

"You will not use this certificate for anything! A woman's place is at home, fending for the children and houseware. If you love me you will follow me to lagos. I am going to join the music industry. Baby, i make it, A music producer wants to sign me, Very soon i will be swimming in money!"

I was gullible at that time and i would have done anything to be with my Tunde. Tunde had a hold on me i could not explain. Whenever I was not with him, i felt empty. I felt he was my better half, he completed me Like an incomplete painting.

photocredit: Black women art

But i saw peter again that night. He smiled down at me softly and i wished i could go back in time and choose him. He had become a successful pillar of the community, owned his own company and car. Tunde was a driver now and he used all his salary in ponzi schemes and gambling.

I had thrown away the man that had loved me genuinely. I had chased outward appearance and popularity, and now my life was ruined and my life source slowly draining away at ths hands of a beast.

"You can call me if you need anything, Laura. Just for old times sake" Peter had said warmly.

for a brief moment i felt safe. I felt i could tell him everything and pour out my soul to him but then the next thing he said made me numb with regret.

"This is my wife, Bisi." He smiled introducing a younger version of myself.

She was everything i was when i was much younger and he had asked me out. Energetic, kind, eager to change the world with profound goals.

"You know it's never too late to start again. I and Bisi have had rough years. Our company went bankrupt four times but we picked up the pieces and started again." Peter had said kindly during our friendly dialogue. His words stuck with me...

---

photocredit: Manga

That night, i sat in my bed and cried all night while Tunde was somewhere in another woman's bed. I didn't care about his incessant infidelities anymore, we were not married and my fore finger still bore his three year old engagement ring. I had become accustomed to it.
After getting on my knees to pray after three years away from any church, i made a decision to myself that night.

I was going to pick up the pieces and start again. I was going to return home to my parents in Akwa Ibom and beg their forgiveness. I was going to make something out of myself

I left the next morning for home. I left feeling like a different woman. I left Tunde a note.

" You ruined me but i have decided to pick up the pieces" I said in my note.

---

There are some women that choose to remain in abusive relationships because they are scared to start again. Scared that what is left of them is not enough to start again on their own.

Never be scared to leave abusive relationships It's not too late to start again

photocredit:Solange

Thank you for reading this far!!! If you found this post touching and expect to read more like it, please Upvote and follow @rachelrick