CHAINED

                          CHAINED

The sound the plate made as it touched the ground corresponded directly with his heart that was beating abnormally. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. His thoughts bordered on how the plate had slipped out of his hands and what the punishment for that would be. Probably another night of sleeping outside with the mosquitoes and cold tiles for comfort or enduring another round of beating. He slowly sank to the floor in despair.  He was in his customary clothes.  A tattered black shirt, khaki shorts and rubber slippers. An attire that surely  wasn't fitting for the environment he found himself in but was of course suitable for his position of chief servant. Doubt and fear coursed through his veins even as he tried to gather the broken pieces of the plate together. Madam always kept an inventory and will notice the missing plate but till then he had to think of all the possible ways to die. As she would definitely try to kill him. God forbid her plates from Thailand knew destruction. 

He stood in the sitting room. Taking all the beauty in. The very comfortable chairs he was not allowed to sit In,  the marble floors he scrubbed daily,  the expensive looking television set that was forbidden for him to ever touch, and all the family pictures on the wall that showed everyone in the family with shining teeth and starched clothes. He remembered when those smiles were directed at him and when his own picture also hanged beside theirs. He remembered when he was a part of this family and not just a slave. When he was the head and not just a freeloader 

When he was a father and a husband.

The memories came rushing In unbidden. He had been the perfect man for Sheila.  She was the talk of the town on campus. His drivers were at her beck and call, his money was her money and she loved him to pieces. It was only right that the two lovebirds get married and they did shortly after her youth service. Oh they had a grand wedding 

All the people who could come were treated to a royal wedding.  He had no family since he was an only child born of parents who were only children too. And they had died in a car crash years ago. 

Seeing the joy in Sheila's face alone everytime he came home from work was enough to make him happy. They were in heaven. And nothing could destroy their happiness or so they thought. 

It happened one Friday. James got to work as usual, after several moments of kissing his wife goodbye to meet a bunch of uniformed men surrounding his office. A government project had gone wrong and was found guilty of fraud. His pleas fell on deaf ears. He lost everything in the long run. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He was devastated. Oh his wife was understanding for the first few weeks but when the Hunger set in, she started to change subtly. "Don't touch me, I'm hungry" that was her anthem everyday. "The children have not eaten.  How can you call yourself a man" That was her pledge. He watched all the love crumble before his eyes.  Nobody wanted to work with him anymore. His reputation preceded him. Sheila snagged a job in an oil company paying six figures and then his hell became several degrees hotter. 

 "How can I work all day and Still come home to a dirty house? If you don't clean this house you will find yourself on the streets" she boldly proclaimed one Monday evening. It was no longer 'darling' or 'honey' or 'sweetheart'. Words of endearment she called him a few years ago.  It was now 'useless man', 'Good for nothing' and 'fool'. He washed her clothes, took the children to school, did all the chores and had his special cane for whenever he made a mistake. His body was covered in sores and he had not even touched his wife since he had no job. She claimed "enjoyment was for the rich". All the tears he had cried throughout the ordeal, could have formed a small river. But things never changed. He never went to church or any public occasion for the shame was unbearable. Even his friends would not help him. They definitely didn't want Sheila breathing down their necks. 

He had always had a small stature so his wife used that to her advantage when giving him the much required 'discipline'.  He could not run away, Sheila proclaimed that he still owed her for all her suffering and if he tried it, he lost all rights to ever see their children. And he couldn't let that ever happen. Her high class friends would laugh and turn him to a bartender and cook anytime they visited and Sheila proudly told them she was enjoying her 'tamed husband'

He was a man. He was to swallow all the hardships of life without complaint. He was to be strong and be the sole provider. He was not to experience abuse from anyone, he was to be the abuser if at all.  If he cried, he was weak.  If he asked for help, his manhood was questioned 

What then? How then would he be free?  Who would fight for him and be his voice? Who would unlock his chains?

The sound of the car horn jolted him out of his reverie. She was back and this was his life. 

Most often we attribute the victims of  Domestic Violence to me females alone, we have forgotten that men too can be violated. Men too can be a victim. Men too suffer. So let’s put hands together to stop domestic violence in all ramification. What advice do you have for James and people who suffer Domestic Violence especially men, because it is regarded as a “taboo” for a woman to “beat” a man, been that – women are the weaker vessels.

We hope you enjoyed the wonderful piece and was able to learn one or two things. Don’t forget to Share, Comment and Contribute, it will be highly appreciated.

#StopDomesticViolence 

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Always Remember You Can Preach A Better Gospel With The Way You Live Your Life Than With Your Lips

**Written By Ayeba Ene, 400level Psychology, OAU**

Always Remember You Can Preach A Better Gospel With The Way You Live Your Life Than With Your Lips