My Abusive African Husband

The Village

The African culture is really difficult for women to deal with, that much has always been true. Marriage was always more about the unifying of families. I hoped that the day I got married it would be to someone I loved rather than some prearranged ceremony.

I dreamt of leaving the village one day, and pursuing a life of my own in the city. The urban areas had so much more to offer than my dingy village, celebrities, nightlife, and crazy fancy clothes. I came from a poor family and I knew how little significance I was in being able to change this.

My dreams came true all in one day when as I was walking carrying water on my head a car stopped by. Inside a big stocky man came out, he was clean-shaven and dressed like he was out on business. He approached me and asked my name.

"Anita," I shyly replied. I was intimidated by his presence and directness.

"I'm John," He said with confidence. While John tried to hide it, I could see him eyeing my behind and breasts. I was a slightly larger girl than most women. I was a bit on the chubby side, which I wasn't too proud of.

It was genetic I thought, whilst John looked at me, I looked at him. I had never seen a guy so big, most of the men here were skinny. John was a goliath, and I started to imagine how he would look without that shirt he had on.

John offered to drive me to wherever I needed to go as a kindness. I wanted to say yes, but mother had informed me about girls getting kidnapped in these parts and being sold to witchdoctors. I didn't want to be rude to this beautiful man, yet, I still had to decline.

I argued we just met and he understood. John then walked with me, carrying the bucket with one hand, leaving his car.

"Is that safe? The men here will steal anything," I asked.

John smiled, "They won't if they want to keep their heads."

I think that was the first warning I received. The first warning of John's true side. I laughed at his cocky attitude, although it wasn't too farfetched to think he could fight all of them on his own.

We arrived in the village where many like me walked miles just for a bucket of water. I introduced John to my family, and he was wonderfully pleasant. They didn't seem threatened by him and my mother offered him the good seat. She asked him about his work.

John told us he was a poor boy, just like us, until after many years working for his family. He left to go live his dreams in the city, at first it was a horrible experience yet with time he started making some good money. Now, he is the guy foreigners go to for land in the country, since John buys it directly from the locals.

The government isn't involved, it all sounded shady, although I thought the government wasn't very helpful to us poor people. So breaking the law felt right sometimes.

John then asked to talk to my father in private, I thought that he wanted to offer my father a business deal, and so I didn't think much of it. Who was I to think this successful man would be interested in a cow like me. I spent the day doing my chores, feeding the chickens and the other livestock. Tending to the garden and collecting more water.

Once I arrived home for the second time, John's car was parked inside. I came to the fire and began preparing supper when my mother arrived.

"It's done, it's done my gal," she cried out.

I was confused, what was done and what had her so excited. She hugged me and my sisters came and hugged me too.

"Why are you all so excited, I only got the water for supper."

They laughed and exclaimed, "She doesn't know!"

"What don't I know?" I shouted.

"That man you brought, John, wants to marry you," my mother replied.