
07/09/2025
From my box. Part two
When we moved to Lagos after our wedding, I was full of joy. It felt like a new beginning a chance to build our home together, far from family distractions. I would wake up every morning grateful, praying,Lord, thank You for this man. Thank You for this life.
But only twelve days into our marriage, everything changed.
It started with something so small. I had cleaned the toilet washed it thoroughly but I forgot to mop the toilet seat. That little oversight turned into a stormm. He shouted, his eyes fierce in a way I had never seen before. And then, before I could understand what was happening, his hands were 0n me. He beattt me. He beatt me like I was a stranger, like I was a man he wanted to destroyy. I was gasping for breathh, cryingg , pleading but the more I criedd, the harder his bl0ws landed.
When it was over, he stormed out, drove away, and disappeared. For three whole days, I didnât see him. I was bruised, shaken, and brokenn, sitting in a house that was supposed to be our love nest. I couldnât call my parents. How could I tell them that barely one week after my wedding, my husband beattme to the ground? It didnât make sense.
I reached out to his best man, asking, Please, do you know where my husband is? His phone is switched off.The reply I got was chilling, Just stay put. Donât do anything. Watch and learn your husband. He will come back. I didnât understand what that meant, but I kept quiet.
When he finally returned, I tried to talk to him. He was cold, distant, like a stranger in my own home. The same man who once made me feel like a queen couldnât even look at me. He stopped touchingg me, stopped sleepingg with me, stopped speaking to me. All he did was go out and always with his best man. They went everywhere together. The man who was supposed to be our bestie in the marriage suddenly became the center of his world. Sometimes he even sent food to the house, as if I was the outsider and they were the real couple.
I begged. I crie