Blissful Doom

“Mommy…Fone…mooommmy…fone”. I quickly wiped my hands with the napkin then made for the living room. My 4year old baby had managed to draw my attention to the ringing phone although I heard it ringing. I kissed him on the forehead “Thanks babe”. He smiled showing his white milk teeth which made him look more adorable.
“Hello, how are…”
“P-p-lease… you have to start coming…I-I-I-I…think… He’s…He’s…c-cooo-ming…he’s coming...”
“Hold on what are you saying, you are making no sense…”
“I’m scared-d-d-d-d-d…” she broke off crying. The line went dead. Ok …that wasn’t cool and I don’t understand a thing. I can’t just pick my car keys and drive off  to her house, to start with I’m cooking and I have to think of where to drop my son , I can’t take him along. She sounded so scared and I worry for her. I paced across the living room for a while, then I picked my phone and dialled my husband’s line, I told him everything. He told me to drop the baby at his sister’s then go over as soon as possible, it could be more serious than she sounded on the phone.
“…and go there as soon as possible, I will meet you there. I’m leaving office right away.” he said as he dropped the call.

I just couldn’t wait for the lecturer to get out of class. She had a bruise on her lower lip, discoloration on her cheek and a black eye. I came to realise that if we were in our third or final year in the university I would have the liver to ask her about it while the lecturer was still in class but well it was our first year so we were still new in the system and no one wants to get into the “black book” of the lecturers.
“… so, see you next class” I was so happy to hear those words. Immediately the lecturer walked out of the class I blurted out “Is he beating you again?”
“I hit my head against the wall… you know naija NEPA na , I was returning from the kitchen and they just took the light. I wasn’t holding my phone neither was I holding my lamp, so I guess I headed for the wall…”

I didn’t believe her that day but I wasn’t in a mood to argue so I decided to shrug it off. I knew he had beaten her again, that discolouration, and the swollen eye all came from something more of flesh and blood. I remember the first time she came back to the room crying with a bruised lip, she almost cried her eyes out, he had just introduced her to SMS 101 (Special Maximum Shishi)…yeah your guess is good shishi means beating. “I can’t believe he slapped me… I was just greeting the class rep… ” I was as surprised myself, I mean! He didn’t look it; he looks too cute and has this heavenly charm and so much charisma one could die for. She was devastated. The following morning, he came bearing gifts, sweet scenting flowers, cake, chocolates, and cookies, name it! He begged for her forgiveness on both knees weeping profusely, promising never to lay his hands on her again. That moment was cute…you know…that moment when you want to fall in love. They kissed… they made up…of course who wouldn’t? It was the first time and he promised it won’t happen again and gush! This moment is captivating.
But he never stopped hitting her, he never stopped begging, he never stopped bearing gifts, she never stopped loving him. She had it all… if you say so… gadgets, money, love, her prince charming, her doom. He got her all of it.
I remember during our penultimate year, she came into the room grinning from ear to ear, I remember there was this glitter in her eyes…I think it is love “He asked me to move in with him!!! Isn’t it wonderful!” I felt a pang in my chest. Are you kidding me? She must be out of her mind.
“You said No, right?”
“Why? I love him. This will give us the opportunity to know each other’s differences, understand it better and reach a consensus”
“You can’t be serious right now. He hits you, he is violent…he keeps promising to stop but let me tell you the truth he is never going to stop... ”
“…but he loves me and I love him. I know he has anger issues but he is really sweet and you know that! At least he keeps trying to change and he is faithful…no side chick…how many guys can do that? Stay faithful…”

Of course she moved in with him. She was in love. And yes he didn’t stop beating her, and yes she didn’t stop running to me for a shoulder to cry on, and yes he didn’t stop bearing gifts, and again yes she didn’t stop running back to him.
I remember few years after school when she called. “Guess what? He asked me to marry him?”  She was so ecstatic. I knew better at this point. “Really? You said yes?” of course she did. I remember asking her whether that was really what she wanted. Hell yeah she was sure that was what she wanted. I remember I was the chief bridesmaid.

I was honking like crazy. No sign of the gateman/ security man trying to open the gate. I bolted out of my car and banged the gate as much as my strength could permit me. At last the gateman opened the gate.
“Where the hell have you been!” I snapped angrily at him
“Madam no vex…na my oga talk say make I come pack things for house” he held out of a list of things.
“For what?”
“We carry madam go hospital…”
I just had to cut in “… which madam? Which hospital? In fact start taking me there right now”. He tried to argue with me claiming he has to do what his oga sent him… let’s just say I got him to get me to the hospital, the rest is history. I texted my husband the address of the hospital.
I remember marriage didn’t change him. I remember wondering why she thought marriage would change him. I know she doesn’t enjoy the beating but she kept hoping the man she loved would just change. I remember the day she called me to give me the good news “I’m pregnant!” I was happy for her, I truly was. I had tons of plans for baby shower; I was ready to surprise the hell out of her. I remember how glad I was on one of the numerous visits to her place when she asked me to be the god mother. Oh yeah that is so not African, god mother ke? But I was happy, happy for her, happy she was happy, happy she was patiently expecting. My happiness, her happiness was shattered when he boxed the pregnancy out of her few weeks later. I was sad, she was devastated. He pleaded, he accepted his fault, called himself a monster, said he will never make a good dad, said he needs redemption and he will never get the redemption without her. She mourned, she forgave him. Life goes on.

But he never stopped, he kept beating her, she kept losing her babies…oh yeah pregnancies, pregnancy one, pregnancy two, three, four…he kept apologizing, she kept forgiving. Parents wants her to stay… after all, our society frowns at divorce, friends envy her “Mrs” title after all, marriages are supposed to be heavenly, religious leaders counselled her to stay after all what God has joined together let no man put asunder. It beats me.
It’s been some months now. I and my husband and other well-wishers have been coming to the hospital hoping and praying for her quick recovery. Today I’m happy and excited to see her again, I haven’t been to the hospital for two days…well that’s because I have a job and a life too. I have been told she’s recovering and I can’t wait to talk to her. I went straight to the doctor’s office; we exchanged pleasantries and led me to her ward. My heart leapt with joy seeing her sit on the bed, I ran towards her and gave her the hug of her life.
“How are you feeling now…I’m so glad you are fine now….I brought some fruits…” I went on and on, I was happy.
“I’m fine, thank you” she replied
“Do you want the fruits now?” I asked as I made for my bag grinning from ear to ear but I stopped and my smile varnished when she spoke “I’m sorry, please who are you?” she searched for the doctor’s face and asked him “Who is she?”
 That became the worst moment of my life, that moment when I was told that my best friend has amnesia. I wished it was a dream, I wished it was a nightmare, I wished she was just being silly, I wished she was just playing a prank on me, I wished she will just open her mouth and scream “April Fool!!!”, I wished… but she never did, it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a nightmare, she wasn’t being silly, she wasn’t playing a prank on me, she never screamed “April Fool!!!”…

Even now I still remember the doctor’s voice, crystal clear in my head… “I’m sorry madam… amnesia is usually associated with some form of brain damage probably through physical injury or as a result of shock, but it may also be caused by severe psychological trauma…”
“Moommmyy…poo poo… mooommmyy… poo poo” my son’s voice jotted me back to reality and as I hurried back inside the question on my mind remains “What Next?” I fear for her, she has no idea what he has done, she is vulnerable, she will probably go back to him.


By Adeosun Adepeju Answer
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