Almost Is Never Enough
By Alexandria Nwabueze
The article you are about to read covers a fictional depiction of Domestic Abuse in a Nigerian household and how sometimes, almost is never enough to gain freedom.
She ran.
The trees zipped past her as she did, wind in her face, freedom within her grasp. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her and more.
She pumped harder now, pushing and pushing. The sound of feet close behind her. She had to make it. It couldn’t catch her again, she didn’t come this far just to come this far.
She looked ahead of her now, the trees starting to fizzle out, a stream of light ahead of her. It was there, she could just taste it now, freedom. Her throat ached to scream but was sore from shouting a ways back. She would make it. Run to the light, do it for yourself, move your feet.
It was mere meters away now, her freedom. The footsteps behind were gaining but she daren’t look back. It wouldn’t follow her into the light. She just needed to make it, and she was going to.
Then a voice cried out, distracting her. A child’s. Why now? She whipped her head towards the sound, her steps faltering. Then, silence. It made no sense, where could it have come from? Why now?
She remembered her mission. She readied her feet to move. The footsteps had stopped now. She turned to check for it.
It consumed her.
Adah’s phone buzzed on the table. She’d get to it later. She focused on the document in front of her, putting the finishing touches as her fingers hit the keyboard with intensity. She hit the full stop with a thud and sighed, satisfactorily. She was finally done with it. Edith had convinced her to work on a portfolio, and she realized the life of a housewife wasn’t very appealing now that she was one. She spent her days sitting at home, switching from channel to channel, and cooking. She didn’t even do the house cleaning or go to the market because her husband made sure to employ services to keep her indoors.
Her only avenue to leave was Sundays, where she had joined a number of church groups in order to keep busy and make some friends. That was where she met Edith. They had hit it off instantly, Edith’s blatant honesty pairing nicely to Adah’s silent compliant self.
Edith was very critical of Adah’s housewifely duties, and urged her to indulge in something worthwhile. They came to a compromise that she would create a resume and portfolio and they’d go from there.
She shut her laptop and glanced at her phone. Her eyes widened in shock, she only had so much time to get dinner ready before her husband got home. He liked his food hot and waiting as he came in from the day’s work. Adah had mastered the art of managing her time, depending on the meal being prepared, and getting it ready just in time.
She dashed to the kitchen and the sound of pots and pans filled the empty house. Peeling, cutting, pounding, dicing, picking, boiling, frying. The aroma filled the whole house, inviting all that could smell it. Unfortunate that no one but Adah could be graced with its scent.
An hour and a half later, Adah turned off the gas cooker, and dished out the food into its serving bowls. The sound of the gate being opened caught her attention, David had returned. Jamiu, the gateman, saluted his boss, and David waved him off. He drove the car into the compound and parked it, grabbing his briefcase and locking the car behind him. His suit jacket was slung over his arm as he walked into the house.
The door flew open revealing Adah, a wide smile on her face, ushering her husband into their home. His face however, failed to mirror hers. The second the door closed behind them, he started, “I called your phone this afternoon Adah. why didn’t you pick up?”
She searched her mind, then it hit her. The call she got while she was finishing the portfolio, “My love, I’m sorry. I was finishing up some things so I forgot to call you back.”
His voice thundered through the empty house, bouncing off the walls and into Adah’s ears, “So you’re saying you saw my call and ignored it? This stupid woman. What nonsense were you doing that you couldn’t answer your phone? Entertaining your lover in my house abi?”
Adah shuddered at his tone. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she daren’t show them. She readied herself for the reprimanding she was about to get.
He pulled her by the ear, his jacket and case long forgotten on the floor, and tossed her about the living room. She landed by the wall, banging her head in. her eyes spun in its socket and she just focused her mind on the finished document that had put her in this predicament.
It was a regular occurrence though. Little human errors that caused her to get sprawled out on the floor or pounded into the chair ever so often. She thought back to the first time it happened…
“You want to go where? Why? Is my house not good enough for you? Oh, it’s those witches that you used to gather and see that fill your mind with useless ideologies that you want to see ehn? You’re not going anywhere!” David spat out, barely even sparing her a glance.
She was shocked by his response. David was never mean to her. It was three months into their marriage now, and she had begun to see a side of him that was carefully concealed for the 2 years they had been dating. But this one was new, blatantly refusing her requests and insulting her friends.
Annoyed, she scoffed, “David why would you say that now? Those are my friends and I haven’t seen them since the wedding. We’ll all be in the same state for the first time for a long time so we wanted to use this opportunity to just hang out. You saying no makes no sense oo.”
“Well, Adah I don’t know what to tell you. The answer is no and that’s final.” he stated, still not looking at her.
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “Me I’m going o, I don’t know why you’re so uptight about it.”
She stood up to go to the room, and a weight dragged her by her hair and slapped her across the cheek. She was stunned, unable to comprehend what had happened. She blinked, nursing the stinging sensation her face felt, then the weight pulled her onto the large couch and mounted her. Her hands flew to defense mode, trying to block her attacker from ensuring more damage to her face.
He only moved south, a blow landing on her abdomen. She thought that was where it happened, and why she was so unstable. But she could never say that to him. He’d only make it worse then blame it on her nonexistent cheating.
It was the beginning of the end for Adah, but she didn’t know it just yet. If only she had built up the courage to do something about it.
“Husbands, cherish your wives, they do so much for the world and we barely acknowledge them for it. The least you could do as her partner is show her that you care.” The church resounded in affirmations. Adah looked around the church and internally scoffed. She wondered how many men sat there with their wives, agreeing with the words of the pastor while doing the exact opposite in their homes. Nigerians were a particular breed of Christians, only picking and choosing what parts they wanted to suit their own narratives, but resorting to acting holier than thou to anyone they came in contact with.
Adah glanced at her husband next to her, at least he wasn’t subscribing to self lies. He knew he was the devil and he wouldn’t act like he was anything else. Her hand reached up to touch the side of her face. It was heavily covered with makeup, but the pain was still raw. She had to position her head a certain way to deal with the way it hurt.
The pastor’s voice blared through the speakers, “And women. Be willing to submit to your husbands. They are the heads of the family for a reason. They provide for the family, so your cooperation is very necessary for your marriage to work.” It was the same old recycled jargon that he preached, or so Edith kept saying. Adah always wondered what Edith did in a church setting if she didn’t find it and its teachings all that appealing, but they hadn’t gotten close enough in their friendship to trade secrets.
After the service was over, Adah went for her group meetings. The only time she had to get some breathing space. She served as secretary in most of them, so her day was spent documenting the minutes of the meetings and compiling the events. The final one came up, where she was merely a bench warmer with Edith.
They sat at the back of the meeting together, catching up as they usually do on Sundays, “This one that you’re wearing so much makeup, you’re showing off your husband’s money abi?” she whispered, loud enough for just the both of them to hear.
Adah tried to smile, but her muscles weren’t up to the task. Edit noticed it immediately and peered to study Adah’s face better. She noticed the bump on the side of her face in contrast to the left side and covered her mouth to keep from exclaiming.
“Adah, what is this?” She whisper-yelled.
“It’s nothing, Edith, don’t worry about it. I just had a nasty fall in the kitchen.” Adah lied, uncomfortable about the subject.
“Don’t lie to me Adah. he’s been beating you hasn’t he? Haew God, I hope it’s not about the portfolio you made.” Adah shook her head, and Edith continued, “How long has this been going on?”
Adah stayed silent. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t come out and admit that for the entirety of her marriage her husband had grown colder each passing day and grown accustomed to beating her up over the slightest inconvenience. She knew she couldn’t stomach admitting her shortcomings as a woman, and admitting that she had been unable to make the choice to leave.
She had always heard about women in abusive relationships, and like your average person, she believed it would never happen to her. She had the best beau, the kindest, most loving human ever all to herself, and she was lucky too, he was quite well off.
He courted her, spoiled her rotten and made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He fought off any other advances towards her and made sure she knew he was serious about getting her. Her wedding day was the happiest day of her life. It was the most lavish affair, David had spared no cent to make her happy, and their honeymoon was grand and in the most beautiful place.
Soon after, she realized she would be confined to the corners of her home every day. David promised to provide for everything while she just relaxed. She thought she had hit the jackpot then, until that fateful day, when she realized she would never leave the house without his permission.
5 years and several concussions later, they had been stuck trying for a child. Adah had her suspicions, but was never able to get a solid diagnosis, so she endured the abuse and insults hurled at her by her husband’s family.
David was a silent type of abuser. He didn’t say very much, but he packed a very heavy punch, knowing just where to hit like it was second nature. Adah’s alienation from her non-marital life left her helpless to the abuse. She was forced to cut off all her friends, leaving her heavily dependent on David as her emotional and financial backer.
Adah went home from church that day, Edith’s words ringing in her ears. The car ride with David was silent, and she was edged too close to the door it seemed it would swallow her.
“What did you people do in that your meeting?” David’s voice filled the empty car.
“I just took minutes of the meeting. We’re planning an outreach program and the finances needed to be handled. It wasn’t anything tedious.”
“If it’s not so much, why do you need to be there sef?” He asked, annoyance clear in his tone. Adah turned to look at him, knowing the direction of the conversation.
“David, I don’t want to stop going to these meetings. I barely go anywhere, the least you could do is let me hang around church a little longer.” Adah’s voice was slightly raised, though her eyes stayed glued to the dashboard ahead of her. She had certainly misspoken now, and would probably pay for it once they passed the few blocks left to get to their house.
Leave him, Adah. Edith’s voice echoed through her head.
David’s jaw clenched and his knuckles gripped the steering wheel. It was coming. Adah braced herself for maximum impact as they raved closer to the house.
It happened again.
Adah sat hunched over on the toilet seat. She had her emergency items packed and on standby, discreetly communicating with Edith over the past weeks. She would disappear completely, with Edith’s help. Or get a divorce. Something. But she had to leave. The litany of bruises needed an end to come to. She was ready to leave. She needed to leave.
But then it was all halted.
The pregnancy test stared back at Adah– two blue lines. She was pregnant yet again. Whether or not this one would stand the time, she wasn’t sure. But she was stuck again. Hunched over the toilet seat for three whole hours. Her phone on the dining table, a world away, buzzing cheerily. She couldn’t leave, not now. Not with the one thing that could keep her in David’s good graces was a few months from taking shape.
But what if it goes away again? It was the same story, over and over anyway. Why would this time be any different?
She heard the phone ring. Then stop. Then ring again. Then stop.
Over and over this happened, and she just sat, hunched over the toilet seat, pregnancy test in hand, glaring positive.
The booming yell brought Adah out of her state. She collected herself and disposed of the test. David was home.
“What time was it?” Adah thought. She hadn’t gotten into the kitchen yet. Her phone was miles away from her, and she had left the go-bag on the floor next to it. She would pay for it now.
The footsteps had gained in on her now. It was dragging her, pulling her back. The cry that interrupted her escape had stopped now, nowhere to be found. The cry of joy in a loveless marriage was long gone. She had lost it.
The figure hovered over her now, consuming her. She screamed now, the last use of her voice, but it was no use. Stuck in a vast forest space, no one could hear her cries for help. It was empty and silent. Void of any life.
Ahead of her, the end was in sight. It disappeared the more she fought the figure. If she lost, she would know no happiness, no joy, no peace. She would never even know any life.
She had no one. No one to mourn her, no one to cry for her.
She started to let go. She had nothing to live for anymore. 5 miscarriages, and a damaged womb, the constant but short lived joy of completion in her life.
She started to fade away, death was calling her now. The figure had consumed her completely. She was fading now, and she hoped she would wake up somewhere with unending joy after a lifetime of unending happiness.
She had wasted too much time on this pane, but never again. She let the darkness consume her now. Soon enough, and it would be over.
Then it was over.
THE END.
ALSO READ: Silence is Not Always Golden
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