Some Men Make You Want to Hurt Them…..

Kosi

 

 

Some men make you want to hurt them; men like my husband….

To him, he is first Tomide’s dad before he is my husband.

 

His twitter profile reads……… Thinker, Lawyer, Tomide’s dad”

 

His Facebook profile name was Tomide’s dad. Going through his albums on Facebook, you would never guess he is married. The pictures were either of him or of Tomide. You wouldn’t find a single picture of me anywhere.

 

****

His life and our marriage revolves around Tomide. He is the one that he spends seventy percent of his income on. My husband only bought me a car because I gave him a son. During the pregnancy; he believed BRT and Danfo were good enough for me. It was because of Tomide that I got the first opportunity to travel out of the country,

“My son is too precious to be born in this stupid country, let’s arrange for you to have the child in America”. 

It was because of Tomide that I had to be a stay at home mom. “I don’t want my son in a day care.” “No one can take care of him like his mother”

 

I had insisted I couldn’t be a housewife and he had promised to give me money to start a business of my choice. Five million naira later and a promise of more I agreed to quit my job. I kept the money in a fixed deposit account and chose to sit at home taking care of Tomide. My husband never asked why I didn’t start a business, he was happy to see his son have a full time nanny.

 

*****

I have no illusions; Tomide was the reason he married me. I am a baby factory, nothing more.

I still remember how my journey into baby mamahood started.

I had been spending a weekend with him like I usually did; I hadn’t been myself that particular weekend and he had noticed.

 

Baby, what’s wrong with you?

You’ve been quite sluggish of late, abi I don score goal?

“Which goal?” I had asked raising an eyebrow

“Do you want to score a goal? Did you not say you are not interested in getting married for the next five years?”

“I know I said that but I didn’t really mean it oo, pregnancy changes a lot of things you know. If you get belle now, the story go change. In fact I will marry you before the end of this month.”

“Ehn ehn, really? congrats nigbayen ooo, because I’m pregnant.”

I kicked myself inwardly the moment the words left my lips. No one was supposed to know I was pregnant. It was a pregnancy destined for termination. I had no wish to have a child for the world’s greatest loafer. The action that led to the pregnancy itself had been a mistake, a madness induced by excess alcohol intake.

“Are you kidding me?”

 Say you are joking, I told myself but I found myself confirming it instead.

“I’m not kidding.”

“You mean you are pregnant for me?” He asked pointing a finger towards his chest.

“Yes”, I replied almost choking on the lie.

That confirmation changed our relationship, I got an engagement ring the next day and two months after we were married.

Perhaps, I would have summoned the courage to tell him he wasn’t my baby’s father if everything hadn’t happened so quickly. I never had a chance to take a breath.

 

****

Being a baby factory or feeling like one is no fun. Tomide is Kosi’s world. I have a tiny corner there just because Tomide existed. Some days I feel so tempted to tell him that Tomide isn’t his son especially on days when he makes me feel like Tomide’s nanny instead of his mother.

“Why is my son’s feeding bottle on the dining table?”

“Why hasn’t his cloth been changed all day?”

“Did you buy the toy I asked you to buy?”

“How many times have you changed his diapers today?”

He would go on and on irritating me to no end.

I would want to scream, “relax oga, he is not even your son”. But I never did perhaps out of pity for him or just out of plain fear of what he will do to me.

 

Sometimes I would laugh inwardly when he bragged about how much he and his son had in common.

He would tell a friend;

“Na my forehead, nose, mouth and eyes my boy carry. He resembles me in everything. I won this one oo totally. Maybe I would give this Iya the next one, she can decide to have a girl if she likes; this one is mine.”

 

Sometimes he would turn to me and say;

“Did you see how my boy kicked that ball? He will be a good football player like his dad.”

“Did you see how he turned up his lips just now?”

“Mum said I used to do that as a kid.” He would add grinning happily.

I would nod and summon a fake smile. I would later wonder why nature decided to play such a huge joke on men, a woman would always be sure that a child was hers but men on the other hand accept whatever we present to them as theirs.

 

Tomide shared absolutely no resemblance to Kosi, their nose and forehead might be of the same shape but I was sure there were millions of other people who had the same type of forehead and nose.  I knew for certain that Kosi’s blindness would be cured if he saw Tomide and his biological father together. My son is the split image of Setan. I don’t like it but there was no doubt about it. I could only hope that they would have different behavioral patterns.

 

*****

It is not my wish to tell Kosi he has been wasting his time and money for the last three years but Kosi tempts me so much. Each time he treats me like a machine that produces children and takes care of the house, I feel like screaming the truth just to hurt him. I have tried to keep myself from saying it for three long years but I feel one day I won’t be able to restrain myself.

I fear that a day would come when I would scream it out; he would go pale in shock and would ask me if I was saying it just to hurt him or if it was true, he would point at Tomide and say, “he is not my son?” I would nod, grab my son and run. Five million naira plus the more that will come should go a long way in taking care of a woman and her child or would it not? One can’t be too sure these days.

 

photo credit: google images

Advertisements

Moskeda Lounge

Relax, Read, Chat and Maybe even Toast

One Word More

one word at a time

theinkheartblog

letting the ink tell the tales conceived in my mind.........

HaroldWrites

The Pen Whisperer

Malcolm's Blog

My vantage point laced with acerbic muse of experiences, events and people. I am responsible for what i write; not for what you understand. Welcome to my world...

Farafina Books

Telling Our Own Stories...

Kayode Faniyi

literature. life. guff.

Newnaija's Place

...dancing to a distant drumbeat...

Seun Odukoya

Your Stories. My Stories. Our Stories. Please forward all enquiries to seunodukoyaofficial@gmail.com.

Word_smith

Illusionist

Tobi Olowookere's blog

...that I may know Him

Untold Stories

'There Is No Greater Agony Than Bearing an Untold Story Inside You' ~ Maya Angelou

Pa Ikhide

Father, Fighter, Lover, Troublemaker

Nzesylva's Corner

A repository of my thoughts

Chris BAMIDELE

Scattered Thoughts, Opinions and African Stories.

soulcaste

...from Soul to Ink

OSCARPOEMS

Welcome to Oscarpoems blog, a combo of my musings and poetry

Deniz blog!

An imagined perfect place...

naijawriter

Read Laugh Love

tlsplace

A Beautiful Mind

%d bloggers like this: