THE REAL YOU 2

.. ..CONTINUATION OF THE REAL YOU.
Episode 2

The abuse left fingerprints and bruises on the side of mother's face. But by the following day, when she was taking me to school, they were all gone. Thanks to Mary kay, she had pancaked her face so well one would need more than the ordinary eyes to get under the layers of powder.

“One plus one is one. If you give anyone reason to come in between you and your spouse, they end up tearing the union apart,” so my mother believed. To some extent, she managed to deceive people but never herself, as her aching heart constantly bore witness to the violence she suffered. Mother was a typical ‘tell it all to Jesus and no one else”. But unfortunately, asides her weak body, her spirit also grew weary with time and could not take her too far on her knees.

At a time, rumor had it that father was having extramarital affairs. Mother knew deep down that there was the likelihood of this but chose to live in denial. One day however, truth dropped by at the house. I and mother returned from the market and hadn’t expected to meet father at home. We walked in on him and found him in a compromising position with a woman. At that instant, the woman jumped off his laps. With one hand clasping her unbuttoned blouse, and the other which took a swift grasp of her handbag, she hurried out of the house. Father went after his mistress, not showing one ounce of remorse. As he shut the door after him, so mother broke down in tears. And as usual, I joined in. I had cried many times like that with mother, I had practically turned to a wimp. So much that the times I was bullied at school, instead of standing up for myself, I reacted with tears.

At age 10, the only playmates I had had all my life were dolls. I never got to see my siblings past their bulging form in mother’s stomach, owing to my abusive father's eager hands, which sent them back from seeing the light of the day.  There was one that seemed to have come to stay as it made it past the 2nd trimester unlike the other two that barely made it to the 1st. I anticipated this one more, since scan revealed we were expecting a boy. But I didn’t know my hell bound father would also rob me of this and much more.

That dark day, an argument ensued between my parents and father was going to resolve to winning with his hands. As he raised his hand to silence mother, mother trying to move out of its way, missed her steps and tripped over her stomach. She was rushed to a nearby hospital. The baby really wanted to stay and wasn’t going to die without a fight. In the process of the struggle he ended up snuffing out mother’s life alongside his. To as many sympathizers who cared to ask what led to her death, father was quick to reply with ‘she missed her steps and fell'. Each time he told this half truth, the full incidence played on my mind till it was deeply etched, forming me into the woman I have become- a chief feminist.

Not too long after, father filled the hollow space mother left behind. The woman fitted in the role of a wife and a mother very well. In the meantime, father acted responsibly. Guess he learnt from mother's unexpected demise. But as character is like smoke that can’t be hidden, father’s real self soon started playing out. For the first time one evening, he laid his hands on his wife. Unlike my mother, the woman dared hit him back and got the beating of her life. By dawn of the following day, she packed her belongings and left the house.
Day1 day2 after, we didn’t hear from her and father did nothing about it.
“I am a man, far be it from me to go search for a woman who packed out by herself and beg her to return when there are thousand and one women out there who are better in all ramifications. When she has suit herself, she will surely return . I hope by then, her place wouldn’t have been taken by another,” said father.

At about 2weeks after, a woman stopped by at the house, dressed in black trousers, an ash-colored khaki shirt with a yellow badge pinned to the left breast side and handcuffs attached to her belt.
The ample lady introduced herself as a bailiff and handed over a legal document to father, indicating writ of summon has been served on him to appear at the court in a month's time on the grounds of assault and wife battery. I had always thought father had got guts, never knew he could be so chickenhearted. The court official left him shaking like a leaf. There and then, I chose my life ambition. Asides admiring the woman's neat appearance and the confidence she exuded, I discovered a course capable of bringing undeserving men like my father to their knees and so determined to pursue.

At once, father got his car ready to go search for his wife and try to appease her conscience. Knowing she was fond of me, he took me along. Perhaps seeing me would weaken her resolve. We went to the first likely place we might find her-- her family house. On entering the compound, from all indications, we were not welcomed. The dogs barked ferociously in their cage, the ground was kind of slippery and father walked as though he had stepped on a large pile of dung. We knocked and my stepmother’s younger brother let us into the living room. His angry countenance spelt ‘you don’t deserve my greetings'. He left us standing while he went in to get his sister. My stepmother took quick steps towards me on sighting me. She hugged and took me to a corner, ignored father as though he were a carved clay.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you, I have missed you a lot. How is school, what had happened since I left?” she said, and we got talking.

A couple of minutes after, her parents walked into the living-room. My father greeted but got no response.

“How dare you batter my daughter? You are really in for it, I hope you have a good lawyer?” said his father-in-law
My father went on his knees in apology.

“I didn’t give my daughter to you so she can become your punching bag. It's men who are weaklings that exert there strength beating up women when there are other men their level they can spar with if they so feel like it. Men like you should be taught some lessons. We took pictures of her swollen face with marks and bruises when she got here. Those will serve as evidences. Let’s see if the court will rule in your favour.” At that, father went on his face to further apologize.
But for the man's wife and daughter that pleaded on father’s behalf, he was bent on using the law to straighten father out.
At last, he withdrew the case but sounded a note of warning that if he ever lay his hands on his daughter again, he would come after him and wouldn't rest till he had learnt his lesson. Like a fallen gecko, father nodded in agreement.
Considering what just filing a lawsuit had reduced my father into, I was further convinced on the path I had chosen. Later, I realized the family is related to the chief justice of the state who through my stepmother later served as a stepping stone and played pivotal role in the height I attained in legal practice.

My stepmother was not released to father that day, he was told to come back for her within 5days as she was still receiving treatment. Each of those days, father showed up in her house with gifts as though he was courting her again from scratch. Since the day she returned, father never raised his hands at her again.

I was the best graduating student at law school, the youngest of those called to bar amongst my set. Since then I have been scaling the hurdle of the profession onto its pinnacle.
Asides my academic prowess, I was also the cynosure of all eyes. Very few men wouldn’t tilt their heads in degrees when I pass by. Many made passes at me while some came wooing. It was all the same old phrases, ‘I have never come across a more beautiful woman', ‘Where have you been all my life? I must have been walking with my eyes closed.’ ‘Since I came across you, I have lost concentration. I see you in my dreams, think of you while I am awake, it's either I have you or die trying’. I was just not moved by all of those. Even if their mouths were dripping honey, they weren’t just my kind of man. Some even said, ‘ask me anything and you will have it' as though they owned the earth and a good part of heaven. Even if it were possible they owned that much, I was just no game for their bait. There was nothing I so desired that I couldn’t afford. So I didn’t see what any man could offer that could get me tripping head over heels in love. Love? I was yet to understand its language. After all, father loved mother and the only way he knew to show it was abuse her. I was bent on not being like mother. I wasn’t going to let a man find me, I will find the man.

Wait a minute, did I tell you how father died? Oh, my bad. How could I have skipped that part?
The old wretch was diagnosed of lungs cancer, alongside charred kidneys. He accepted his fate and smoked on till he puffed his last; that very one that sent up his spirit.

Based on father’s lifestyle, I set 3 criteria to use in my choice of a spouse. TO BE CONTINUED……….
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*Questions*
*We all have certain understanding of this biblical quote “what God has joined together, let no man put asunder”, does this mean parents should look the other way while newly, inexperienced couples go astray or ill-treat one another?
Note: Please answer from a parent's perspective.

*As God frowns as divorce, what do you advice a victim (like the woman in the story who stayed put, kept the violence to herself till she eventually lost her life) do in an abusive marriage? Considering the union already has a child(ren)

Note: That short comment in answer to the questions can go a long way to correct wrong notions and save the marriage of someone who's reading. Thanks