My wife beat up my elder sister, and now everyone in the family is against me, telling me I’m not man enough. I have always told my elder sister one thing: “Please, leave my wife alone.” I don’t understand why a woman will get married and her husband’s family will not respect her. I go to my wife’s family, and they treat me like a king. They can even cook what they don’t normally want to cook, just to make sure I eat very well before leaving. But my own family? You people will see my wife and treat her as if she’s trash. I didn’t like it. What crime did she commit by getting married to me? I know my wife better than anyone else. I know her temper. I know what she can tolerate and what she cannot. My wife is not the type of person who goes around looking for trouble. But when you continuously push her, insult her, embarrass her, and threaten her, there comes a point where she can finally snap. And honestly, sometimes I even struggle to handle her when she’s angry. That was why I kept warning my elder sister, “Please, stop provoking this woman. You don’t know what you are doing.” But she would laugh and say, “Is she the first woman in this family? Do you know how many wives we have in this family? Nobody has ever challenged me.” I told her, “My wife is different, though.” I knew why I was saying it. That was how my wife behaved every time. Whenever my sister came to our house and saw my wife, she would start one thing or another. Sometimes it was the way my wife presented food to her. Sometimes she complained about the way my wife greeted her. Sometimes, there wasn’t even a serious reason. How did my sister expect my wife to remain calm when she knew that she always came around to make a mockery of her? She would insult my wife, talk down on her, and even insult her family in my presence. If not because she’s my elder sister, I would have stopped her from coming to my house. But I kept talking to her. I kept warning her. Sometimes, I would even send her messages. She liked saying things that annoyed my wife. My wife would usually keep quiet. And whenever she complained to me, I would tell her, “Please, just ignore my elder sister. I will talk to her.” And I did talk to her. Many times, I told my sister privately, “You are my elder sister, and I respect you, but please stop treating my wife like this. She is my wife. I don’t want problems in my marriage.” But my sister never took me seriously. She thought that because she was my elder sister, she could do anything she wanted. Then one day, the thing I had been afraid of finally happened. My sister came to the house as usual. From the moment she entered, I could already sense the tension. She started talking to my wife in that same insulting manner. My wife initially ignored her, but my sister kept going. She insulted her. She threatened her. She pushed her emotionally until my wife finally lost her patience.
I was 23 years old when I got married to a man who was 41. I never really knew my parents. My father died when I was just three years old, and as for my mother, I had never even seen her face. I was raised by my father’s younger sister, the woman I called my aunt. According to what my aunt told me, my mother came from Cross River State. But I had never been there, and honestly, I had no desire to go there. My childhood was not an easy one. For as long as I can remember, I survived mostly by God’s grace. I went through things that no child should ever have to experience. I don’t remember much from before I turned seven. But from the age of seven, everything became clear in my memory. I remember the beatings. Almost anything I did could get me punished. If I broke something, I was beaten. If I answered a question the wrong way, I was beaten. Sometimes, I didn’t even understand what I had done wrong, but somehow, I would still end up being punished. My aunt had four children of her own—two boys and two girls. With me included, there were five children in the house. And I was a very slow eater. That became another problem. My aunt had a strange way of feeding us. She would put all the food into one large plate and tell all of us to eat from it together. Before I could even eat five spoonfuls, her children would have already finished most of the food. And once they were done, there was usually nothing left for me. I would simply sit there and watch the empty plate. Sometimes I went to bed hungry. There was one night I will never forget. I saw my aunt calling her children quietly. I became curious, so I peeped through the doorway. She was giving them biscuits. I stood there watching them eat, but she never called me. To other people, it might have been just a biscuit. But to me, it was something special. Back then, getting a biscuit felt like receiving a Christmas present. Even ice cream was treated differently. Whenever my aunt bought ice cream for herself and her children, she would take a little from hers, squeeze it onto her fingers, and tell me to open my palm. Then she would drop that tiny portion into my hand. And because I was just a child, I didn’t complain. I was simply happy that I had something sweet to eat. I would lick the ice cream from my hand, even though my hands were often dirty. That was my reality. And somehow, I lived that way until I was about 17. Then everything began to change. That was when I met a young man named Kelvin. We started seeing each other, and for the first time, I felt like someone actually cared about me. One afternoon, my aunt called me. She looked at me and said, “Your body is beginning to change. I hope you don’t become pregnant. Because if you get pregnant, you will leave this house, and you will never come back.” At the time, I was too innocent to understand the seriousness of her words. All I could think about was how much happier my life had become. The beatings had reduced. I could go outside more often. And, for the first time in my life, I could eat biscuits whenever I wanted. Kelvin would give me money. If I wanted ice cream, I could buy it. I felt like I had finally escaped the life I had known since childhood. We dated for about eight months. Then one day, I discovered that I was pregnant. I was scared, but I also believed Kelvin would stand by me. So I told him immediately. I expected him to be shocked. I expected questions. I expected fear. What I didn’t expect was his response. He looked at me and said, “That pregnancy isn’t mine.” And in that moment, everything changed. For the first time, I finally understood exactly what my aunt had meant when she warned me. She hadn’t been threatening me. She had been telling me what would happen.
PART 1 — THE BBL INVESTMENT I spent ₦8 million on a BBL, and somehow, men stopped noticing me. Before you judge me, please hear me out. I had three men I was talking to, and honestly, two of them disappeared without giving me a single naira. I did the BBL because I genuinely believed it would change my life. Before the surgery, I wasn’t living a soft life, but at least things were moving. Men used to approach me. Someone would send ₦50,000 here, another person would buy me something there. It wasn’t much, but at least money was entering my account. Then my friend told me, “Girl, upgrade your body and watch your life upgrade too.” Unfortunately, I didn’t have the money. So what did I do? I borrowed ₦6 million and added the little savings I had. In my mind, it wasn’t just a beauty procedure. It was an investment. I told myself, “Once I recover, I’ll start enjoying the returns.” My sister, where are the returns? Because since I did this BBL, not even ₦1 has returned to me. In fact, I think men have developed self-control. The same man who used to send me money every weekend now only watches my stories. One day he commented, “Gorgeous.” Another one dropped three fire emojis. Sir, please. Can I use fire emojis to pay my loan? Another man commented, “God’s masterpiece.” Masterpiece ke? I paid millions for this masterpiece, and the loan company is calling me every morning! Meanwhile, I sell skincare products. Before the surgery, at least customers were buying. Now I’ve done discounts. I’ve done promos. I’ve posted testimonials. I’ve practically begged people to buy my products. Nothing. My skincare business is looking at me like, “Madam, we have bigger problems.” So I started going to church to pray. But even there, people are looking at me strangely. Some are judging me. Some are whispering. At this point, even God knows I need financial assistance. The worst part is the loan. Every morning, my phone rings. “Good morning, ma’am. Your payment is overdue.” Overdue? My body may be sitting beautifully, but my bank account is suffering terribly. And the expenses didn’t stop after the surgery. My old clothes couldn’t fit anymore, so I had to buy new ones. I started going out more because I thought, “What’s the point of having this body if nobody is going to see it?” But going out costs money. My car started giving me problems, so I began using Uber. Then there’s hair. Makeup. Food. Outfits. Everything. That’s when I discovered something nobody told me: Maintaining the investment can be more expensive than making the investment. Last weekend, I dressed up properly. Hair done. Makeup done. Outfit looking expensive. My friend and I went out. I told myself, “Today, somebody must notice me.” And yes, men were looking. But guess what? Looking is free. One man stared at me for almost five minutes. I was already calculating in my head: “Finally! My breakthrough has arrived!” The man eventually walked over. I smiled. I adjusted myself. I was ready for destiny. Then he asked my friend for her Instagram handle. MY FRIEND! She wasn’t even dressed up. Jeans. Slippers. Simple top. No BBL. Nothing. I went to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I said, “What is going on here?” I even turned around and looked at my backside. Then I asked it seriously: “Madam, what exactly are you contributing to this household?” Because the loan is due. The business is slow. The car needs fixing. And you are just sitting there looking expensive! But what happened next made me realize that I had made a much bigger mistake than I thought.
PART 2 Immediately after hanging up, my husband called his brother-in-law again. “My wife’s line is on!” My brother-in-law told him, “Alright. Try calling her again.” Not long after, he called again. This time he asked, “How far?” My brother-in-law told him I wasn’t interested in talking and had ended the call. My husband started begging. “Please, call her again.” Then he admitted something that made me laugh even harder. He said he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. So the woman he was always telling to leave was suddenly that important! By 4 p.m., my husband arrived at his sister’s house with our children. I quickly hid myself. I listened as he lamented like a little boy. He kept asking his elder sister how to do this and that, completely lost without me. His sister did not take it easy with him. She gave him a serious lecture. She reminded him that he couldn’t keep telling his wife to leave whenever they had an argument and then expect nothing to happen. She warned him never to use those words against me again. Then she served him the same soup she had given me. He was so hungry that he started rushing the food because he hadn’t eaten lunch. That’s when I finally came out of hiding. The moment he saw me, he jumped up and hugged me tightly. And honestly, I couldn’t stop laughing. That day, my husband finally learned a lesson: Never tell someone to leave unless you’re prepared for them to actually leave. Since that day, he has never told me to leave again. His sister warned him, and his brother-in-law also talked some sense into him. Sometimes, people don’t realize the value of something until they think they’ve actually lost it.
PART 1 Every time my husband and I argued, he always said the same thing: “If you want to leave, then leave.” He said it so often that I stopped taking him seriously. One day, his elder sister came to our house, and unfortunately, my husband and I had a very heated argument in front of her. As usual, he looked at me and said, “If you want to leave, you can leave.” His sister didn’t say anything. She quietly went home. Later that evening, she called me and said, “My dear, the next time my brother tells you to leave, don’t argue with him. Just pretend you’re actually leaving.” I laughed. She continued, “Pack a few things and come to my house. Let him see what happens when you finally take his words seriously.” Months passed, and my husband and I didn’t have another serious argument. Then, about three months ago, our son accidentally poured water on the floor, and some of it got onto my husband’s laptop. Instead of seeing it as an accident, he blamed me. We started arguing, and once again, he said those familiar words: “If you want to leave, then leave.” This time, I didn’t argue. I quietly packed a few of my things. My husband just watched me. He carried our baby and continued singing and playing with him as though nothing was happening. I called a ride. When the car arrived, I entered. My husband looked at me and said, “I won’t come looking for you when you get tired. You know what to do.” I didn’t reply. I simply left. And I went straight to his sister’s house. When I arrived, she welcomed me and served me hot fufu and afang soup. I had barely started eating when my husband called her husband. He sounded completely different. “The worst thing has happened to me,” he said. My brother-in-law asked, “What happened?” “My wife has packed out. Please call her and talk to her for me.” My brother-in-law told him to calm down. They ended the call. But less than twenty minutes later, my husband called again. “Have you people called her?” They told him they had tried, but my phone was switched off. He immediately said, “No! Her phone cannot be switched off!” Just then, my phone started ringing. It was him. I picked up. But instead of asking me to come home, he asked, “Where did you keep our son’s lunch bag and lesson notes?” I reminded him, “It’s Friday. There’s no school.” He quickly replied, “I just want to keep everything in order.” Then he said, “That’s all I wanted to ask. I didn’t call to ask you to come back.” And he ended the call. I couldn’t stop laughing. But that wasn’t the end of it.
