The dream of an average Nigerian girl is to get married. It’s not that we girls are not ambitious for other goals as the male folks, neither are we deficient in intelligence; but it’s the norm the society has forced us to adopt. This sometimes have us trapped in a myriad of mistakes when we make our choices of future partners in a hurry, in a bid to be tagged ‘Mrs’, and to escape the pressure and mockery of family and friends. Right now, I live every day of my life wallowing in emotional pains, for the wrong choice I’ve made. I got married a year ago. I don’t love my husband, the sight of him irritates me, and each time he wants to make love to me, I feel so uneasy and sad. He’d asked me why I’m always still and indifferent when he’s making love to me, for the few times I’ve allowed him see my nakedness.
The Marriage I Regret Getting Into
Some years ago, I was a happy girl, but now it seems that happiness is so far from me as heaven is far from the earth, because of a choice I made under pressure to get married.
Jude was the first guy I ever loved. He’s everything I desired for a husband. Jude and I dated for over seven (7) years. We were both happy together, and we had many plans, one of which was to get married someday and have children. Jude and I met during our early years at the University. He’s loving, caring, and handsome. What more could I have asked for? But as the years went by, it dawned on me that there was more to ask for. I had to ask for marriage. I needed to get married. After school and the usual NYSC, I got a job, and Jude got a job too. I’d attended several weddings, sewn many aso-ebis, and had been a chief bridesmaid to about three of my friends, and then the urge to get married began to surge like an ocean disturbed by a turbulent weather. The pressure from my parents thickened year after year, and the only thing that mattered in the world to me at that time was marriage. Sadly, Jude wasn’t ready for marriage yet. He had siblings in schools he was training and wanted them to finish school before we get married. How was I ever going to wait for Jude’s siblings to complete their various degree programs before I could get married? No way! I’d waited long enough. I just couldn’t wait anymore.
And then came, Tony. He was ready for marriage, and so I started dating him secretly for Jude not to know. Within few weeks into my affair with Tony, he started pushing; insisting he sees my parents so we could commence marriage plans. I took Tony to my parents, and they were happy. Obviously, they had waited too long for this moment, and so they gave Tony a warm reception. Things happened so fast, and within just few weeks we had printed wedding invitations. At this time, I told Jude I was getting married to another guy. He tried convincing me to stay with him, but my mind was made; I was done with him. A week later, just a week to our wedding, I started feeling so unhappy. Something just wasn’t right. There had to be something wrong, and all I could figure out was the fact that I don’t love Tony. I could not imagine myself spending the rest of my life with him. So I was compelled to call my best love, Jude, and told him I was about getting married to a man I don’t like because he’d delayed me for too long. I wanted to call off the wedding and go back to Jude, but Jude advised me to go ahead with the wedding since we had already invited people: what would people say should they hear I’ve called off the wedding? So I took his advice, covered my eyes and ate the raw worms. Deep down, I was in pains, but who would understand what I was facing?
Tony and I got married. Since then, I’ve known no happiness; sadness and pains are my daily meal and drinks; the sight of my husband, Tony, irritates me. I don’t have any love for him. I took pills after undergoing that sad and un-enjoyed sex with Tony so I don’t get pregnant. I really wanted to leave the marriage without a child; it’s hell for me. I just couldn’t cope. I wanted to run away.
I called Jude and explained things to him, and I realized he felt the same way I did. We both needed each other back. Our communication line was re-opened and feelings for each other rekindled. I told him I was willing to leave my husband if he was willing to take me back as his love. Jude, after confirming from me that I’ve not been pregnant for Tony, promised to take me back and marry me if I’m able to leave Tony. But we knew it was never going to be easy, but we were prepared to take the risk.
But then, the unexpected happened. Two other ladies got pregnant for Jude. When he told me, I was completely devastated; my whole world was crumbling down. But I couldn’t really blame him; I knew my action pushed him into sleeping with different girls. ‘How could you engage yourself in an unprotected sex; are there no condoms in the market anymore?’ I recall I fumed. “I’m really sorry; I don’t know what came over me. I only know I was depressed at the time and I thought sex could help me out, but now it’s landed me into trouble.” Jude said. Few days later, I realized from a medical test that I’d been three and the half weeks pregnant for Tony. How that pregnancy came about despite the pills remains a mystery to me. Well, I called Jude and informed him I was pregnant. He was unhappy just like I, and we both cried over the phone. Nothing could ever stop us from coming together; where love is willing, there must be a way. Jude and I have concluded that we will come back for each other; he is not going to marry any of the women pregnant for him, and I’m divorcing my husband after I deliver my baby, to marry Jude.
But deep within me, I’m scared. I really scared.
I know I’m not making sense, but I know what I’m going through. Jude and I both need counseling on how to go about this. Seriously, we do.
