Episode 1
My name is Ada. I grew up in a small town with my parents and younger sister. Life was not easy, but we had peace. My father was a farmer, and my mother sold fruits by the roadside. We didn't have much, but we had love.
When I finished secondary school, I didn't have money to go to university. So, I stayed at home, helping my mother sell fruits. That was when I met him—Emeka.
He was charming, tall, and always smiling. He would stop by every day to buy oranges and talk to me. At first, I thought he was just being nice. But he kept coming. He said I was beautiful. He said he wanted to take care of me. I was only 18.
I didn't know much about love. I didn't know what to expect from a man. He made me feel special. He gave me small gifts. He would help my mother carry her basket. Everyone in the village liked him. Even my parents said he looked responsible.
After six months, he asked to marry me. My parents were happy. They said, "This is a good man. He will take care of you." I was scared, but I said yes. I thought marriage would be sweet. I thought I had found a man who would love and protect me.
I was wrong.
The first few months after our wedding were okay. He was kind, at least in front of people. But slowly, he started changing. He would shout at me for small things. If I didn't cook his food on time, he would throw the plate away. If I asked for money to buy pads or baby things, he would say, "Did I marry you to spend money?"
I got pregnant within the first year. I was so happy. I thought the baby would bring us closer. But Emeka got worse. He didn't take me to the hospital. I had to beg neighbors to follow me for antenatal care. Some days, I would walk with my big belly under the sun, just to see a nurse.
He would beat me sometimes, even when I was pregnant. If I complained that I was tired, he would slap me. "Pregnancy is not sickness," he would say.
I cried every night.
But what happened after I gave birth was the worst pain of my life…The day I gave birth was the day I died inside.
I was in labor for many hours. The pain was too much. I screamed, cried, and held on. My mother was with me at the hospital, but Emeka came late. When the baby finally came out, I was bleeding and weak. They gave me stitches. I could not even sit well.
The nurses said I needed to rest and heal. They told Emeka, "She needs peace. She just gave birth." He nodded like he understood.
But he didn't.
That very night, after we got home, he kept looking at me in a strange way. I was still in pain. I was wearing heavy pads. My breast was leaking milk. I was holding the baby when he came close and said, "I've missed you."
I was confused. I looked at him and said, "I'm still weak. I can't even sit properly."
He laughed and said, "You've kept me hungry for too long. You've done your work. Now let me do mine."
I begged him. I cried. I said, "Please, at least let me heal. I'm still bleeding."
He didn't listen.
That night, he forced himself on me. He didn't care that I cried. He didn't care that I was shaking. He didn't care that I was still torn inside. My body was not ready. My mind was not ready.
It felt like I was being punished for giving birth.
I couldn't scream. I couldn't fight him. I just laid there, crying silently. My baby was beside us, sleeping in a wrapper. And me… I was being used like I was nothing.
When he was done, he stood up, wore his shorts, and said, "You are my wife. Don't forget that."
That was the night I stopped feeling like a human being. I felt like a thing… a body to use.
From that day, he started demanding it every night. Even when I cried. Even when I said I was tired. Even when I was still healing from the stitches that tore open again.
Every night, I would close my eyes and let it happen, because if I refused, he would beat me—or threaten to throw me and my baby out.
I stopped sleeping.
I stopped smiling.
I stopped living.
All I had left was my baby… and even she couldn't stop my tears.
TO BE CONTINUED...