A walk on thorns

Prologue

Third person's POV

Are you born in the kind of family where the moment a female child is born, her naming ceremony clothes are bought along with the pots she would cook for her husband? It takes your first birthday to own all the appliances needed in the kitchen because it is the only life they are preparing you for.

It takes a little mistake for Aunt I Too Know and Aunt Perfection to start attacking your home-making skills as a woman, Making references and bombarding you with questions like ‘Is this how you are going to behave in your husband's house? and you have no right to speak, no amount of explanation would make them understand that you as a woman are also something to be considered because a man is meant to be worshipped! I salute you, mini gods!

I can't wait for the day I would leave this place, to live my life the way I always wanted to, with no one reducing me to nothing or even doubting my capacity to get married, because they felt like I was not doing it the way it is supposed to be done.

Both Mama and I will surely rest, sorting our differences was a war none of us could win nor lose, we are both hellbent on our opinions and policies. Baba, on the other hand, is a file of a case no one wants to open nor talk about, Astafirullah but sincerely speaking I have never seen a backward man like him, a typical Hausa man with the kind of mentality (Taking back my words is like belittling myself as a man of honor and huge reputation) it doesn't matter if you are dying, HE WON'T TAKE IT BACK! PERIOD. 

Hands down, Marriage is one of the most beautiful things in the world especially when you do it for the sake of your happiness or yourself as well. It is a personal achievement, like it or not, that is why I see no reason why Aunt I too know or Aunt Perfection will pressure me into doing it with a person I don't know the direction they are going life or with someone our personality is polar opposite. As an ambitious girl with a vision and clarity about life, I want to be more than a housewife and I think single-hood is the perfect time for putting most of the work through because you have no responsibilities or expectations, but remember? Not from the family I come from, the moment you clicked eighteen without being considered by a man or at least bring a suitor then you would definitely be a topic of discussion whether you know it or you don't.

Their pride is in finding someone, even if he is a liability, and tied him to your leg in the name of a husband, perfect!  Baba on the other hand is a bit civilized since he allowed us to study past secondary school but he also has rules (As far as you got married during or after school, no coming back, no matter what.) Please which one is better? What if the husband dies? Or he decided not to stay with the woman anymore? For goodness sake, Divorce women aren't the ones that divorce their selves.

I wish for a day when my family and society would understand that they are feeding a wrong narrative and prioritizing things that even religion makes it an option. But before then I have myself to fight for. There is no going back!

First person’s POV

Sound! Sound!! another sound!!
throwing sound of heavy punches nonstop, out of desperation and what feels more like anger and exhaustion.

I stopped, heaving breath as sweat crawled down all over my body, When the punch bag came back, daring greatly with full force, I stopped it with my palms way more like the way I wanted to stop the horror taking place in my life, if only I could.

What's going on? What's happening with me? Is this the life I was told that I have to pass through all my life? Is this the life everyone out there is calling out with pride or is it mine that is composed of a different story? This is the question I couldn’t answer to myself since day one and five years later here I am, still questioning myself hopelessly.

The great ones said and I quote them ‘Expectations come along with disappointment’ but in my case it wasn't an expectation, it was a lie, a massive lie that came along with a book of misery and every day is a good day open a new page of the unforeseen, the unthinkable and the unthoughtful.

I don't understand the logic or more, the philosophy behind the words of the ones at home, how can I be blind when I see it? And how can I be deaf when she hears it? How can I pretend it's shallow, not deep when it's just an inch away to drown me?

I couldn't count the minutes I spent lost in thought with my forehead pressed against the punch bag until the voice I dreaded the most startled me to the core, I  felt as if every muscle in my body contract causing me to go rigid in place. His footsteps kept coming nearer and it took every inch of my last courage for me to face him completely.

He is looking at me intensely with a smirk perch on his beautiful face, dressed in a blue suit he wore to the office in the morning. He moved closer attacking me with his strong cologne making his tall figure overshadow me completely.

I freaked out, and my eyes began to water, I wanted to speak up but I couldn't, feeling like my tongue was stitched into a roll. It amazed him to see me this way, afraid and helpless.

“I....I....a..am...” I managed to stammered but he placed a pinky finger on my lips.

“Shushhhhh.” He gently says, fixing his honey-brown eyes into my fearfully avoidant ones.

“Oh come on Lizard! doing what you can't do to me to the punch bag? He rhetorically asked with a wicked smile. I bowed my head down a little bit feeling like my fragile heart would explode in my chest any moment from now.

”Oh, I can see.” He heaved a sigh and moved away from me completely, When I  looked up I couldn't recognize the cunning man smiling at me a few seconds ago, this time the loathing glare he was sending me said it all, a blink of an eye was an understatement compared how fast he dropped a heavy aggressive punch on my cheek.

I fell flat on the floor gasping for air, trying not to zone out as he squatted down next to me.

“This is for not picking up my calls earlier,” he started before he stood up. “And this.” He continued. “Is for making me find you down here.” He concluded matching on my tummy walking his way out of the gym.

I let out an involuntary painful sound the moment one of my heavily shaking hands reached my stomach in a jiffy, I can't tell which part hurt the most and how it feels to die in different ways every single day.

The wetness I felt under me when I  managed to sit up sent a chill down to the extreme of my spine. What the heck is that? It takes me a whole minute to process what is going on, it happened again! I lost the baby, the baby! My baby! again! For the third time, I lost a baby again because of this cruel man.

A lump attacked my throat in a way that kills in another way, it's better than letting out a cry, I know. I cupped my face and I instantly flinched because of the pain I  felt from the punch he laid on my face earlier. I cried and cried in a way that only I could manage to pull out.

The pain is too much, too much for me to handle, and too much for me to bear with. But only if I can do anything about it...

Den den!
Here are again! I hope you will all come through this, moreover I want to inform you that this book is a duology, so those is the book one.
Thank you!

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