There comes a time in one’s life when turbulent moments are further worsened by ill-winds engineered by the selfish decisions of those you love; people you’d thought truly loved you.
Today, I’m a single mother. Each day that greets my woes, I spend with grief and regret. I should never have married. Somehow I feel like cursing the day I said yes to my ex-husband’s marriage proposal. But I thank God for my beautiful and loving daughter from that union. She is the reason I’m still alive.
As a young girl, I had everything going well for me; socially and educationally. Every guy that saw me then wanted to have me, because I’m naturally blessed with physical beauty and the best of body curves. Sometimes I wish I never had such look, maybe if I had an average look, life would have been good to me today, at least without a single regret.
Many suitors flocked around me, and at so many times I had to turn down marriage proposals from these men. Then came Reuben; he was caring and loving, and with time, I got attracted to him and fell in love with him. We got married six months later. We had a beautiful home with our daughter, and everything was going on smoothly. Reuben was so proud that I was his wife, and he loved to introduce me at public places as his wife. I could sense that feeling of pride in him when people would say to him; “Wow, your wife is very pretty and so gorgeous”. During weekends, he would ask me to accompany him out, and all he wanted was the whole world to know that he has a beautiful wife, and any day I refused following him, he would not talk to me throughout that day. By my nature, I’m an introvert, but I had to learn to adjust because of him.
One fateful evening, I was driving home from work when I had a very terrible accident that almost took my life. I spent three months in the hospital battling for survival. I eventually survived, but not without losing a limb.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, your left arm is completely damaged. I’m afraid we have to amputate it to avert any complication that may come with it if not removed.” The doctor said to me.
I broke into tears. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing a full arm from the shoulder down to fingers. “Doctor, isn’t there an alternative? A way out, without having to lose my hand?” I asked him with tears trooping down my face.
“I’m afraid, no…”
“Please doctor, there has to be a way. I don’t want to lose my hand. I can’t, please.”
“Ma’am, I understand your worry, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“Doctor, are you saying I’ll now be a handicapped person? A physically challenged; is that what you’re saying?”
Well, there wasn’t any better option, and so I surrendered to the wickedness of fate. I became handicapped eventually.
Few weeks after the amputation, whilst still grappling with depression and psychological trauma, the man whom I expected love from, and perhaps to stand by me while I face this challenge, came to me with the saddest news. The last thing I expected to hear from him. He’d supported me all through whilst I was in the hospital and so I never had any inkling of this coming.
“Look, Jane…” he said, sitting on the edge of our matrimonial bed, “I sincerely hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you, and take it in good fate.” He looked away, not daring to look into my eyes while he talked. And then he turned to look at me as though he’d found courage to do so, while I innocently thought he was about to offer me some words of encouragement. “We have no history of physically challenged persons in our family. As a matter of fact, my family forbids it.” Reuben said, rising on his feet. I could not help but shed tears profusely. So many sad thoughts flooded my mind, but I could say no word. Only tears. Tears! Tears! Tears were the only companion I had, they didn’t have to wait for my call before coming; they just listened to my heart and came willingly.
“I’m sorry, Jane. I need you to understand it’s not easy for me too. But it’s a sad decision I have to make, and I it’s made already. It’s time to say goodbye to each other. I hope you find a man that would marry you even in this condition.” Walking towards the door, he paused, staring down on his feet and continued; “as for our daughter, I’ll be paying money into your account every month to take care of her.”
At this time, I just couldn’t bear the pains anymore: the pain from accident wounds, the pain from being a physically challenged woman, the pain of losing my job because of the accident, and the pain of being deserted by the first person in your life while facing challenges and becoming a single mother. How worse can it get?
“Reuben!!!” I screamed.
He opened the door, went out and slammed it behind him.
“Reuben, please don’t do this to me. I beg you.”
But then I was only talking to the deaf walls and ceilings in the room; he was gone.
I walked into the kitchen and took a sharp knife. I wanted to end it all. I was about piercing the knife through my tummy when my little daughter appeared. The innocent look on her face pierced deep into my heart and I dropped the knife, and then carried her. I realized I was about hurting an innocent child. I had to stay alive to take care of her.
It’s been four years now, and I’m yet to get over this. I weep in my room at night. I hardly sleep at night. A sad single mother I am; the world is a wicked place to live. Tears are my cold constant friends.