I always wondered how my own family would be like. If I got married, would my husband and I be like my parents who loved and supported each other. I wanted get married to a man like my father, he was my role model. I already pictured the number of children I wanted, and how they would all grow up to love each other like I loved my siblings.
So when I met Roland, I knew I had met the one I was going to spend my life with, we started as friends but it later became more than that. He was calm and caring like my father. In my town, everyone spoke the same language and almost cooked the same way. But Roland was from a more traditional village which was so much different from mine.I thought we would adjust when the time comes.
And when Roland asked me to marry him, me parents were the happiest. My parents liked him a lot, he was hardworking and respectful. Everything went so well and before I knew it, we were married.
I didn’t argue much when Roland told me we would be staying at his family’s house. His parents wanted to live together until he had his own house. I promised my mother that I was going to love his family like my own, because they were now my family.
I was so happy when we arrived, his dad and siblings praised me for my beauty and gave me gifts. But his mother looked at me with judgmental eyes. While they were having dinner, I said more about myself and my family.
“You don’t match up to our family’s standards.” I knew Roland’s mother would have said more if her husband didn’t step in.
Roland’s mother made things hard for me, she would complain anytime I woke up after the rooster sang. She would say the soup I made had no taste and complained even when everyone else ate it.
“In our days, wives knew how to behave and treat their husband right. Nowadays, these girls from town don’t know anything. They are only good at doing their makeup and looking good, and not keeping a home.” Roland’s mother had told her friends, not minding the fact that I was there. I knew the words were meant for me.
“Your mother doesn’t like me.”
“Don’t mind my mother, she would adjust. There is no one in this world who wouldn’t like a beautiful soul like you.” Roland always said whenever I complained about his mother, and I stopped talking about it to him.
Every small thing I did became a fault. If I swept the compound, she would look around and say, “I said it, if you don’t know how to hold a brush, leave it. Don’t waste my time petting the floor”
We were invited to an event in the neighourhood, and I tried my best to look nice.
“Where are you going looking like that?”
“Mom, the-“
“Have you forgotten you have a husband, who are you trying to show off to. Your clothes should cover every area of your body whenever you go out.” I stayed behind that day. Roland’s mother wore a dress even shorter than mine and she complained about mine.
I knew this was my life now, so instead of complaining, I tried harder
I would wake up before sunrise so she doesn’t see another reason to complain, fetch water and cook. I tried extra hard and only then did she begin to see my effort.
I sat with some of the younger wives in the neighbourhood, we talked and laugh. Each one of them had their own struggles with their own mother-in-laws.
Months later, Roland’s mother became soft towards me. She still corrected me sometimes, but she always ended it with words like, ‘You tried.’, ‘Well done’. My mother told me to be patient, that she would come around soon. And she did come around, I began cooking the way she liked it and learned not to do things she did not like. And a year later, I found out I was pregnant.
Roland’s mother had me in her arms as she laughed happily, it was surprising, but she was happy she would be getting a grandchild. She talked about all the things she would do with her grandchild.
By the time Roland and I moved to our own house, I had grown into a different woman. Roland’s mother had helped shape me to the woman I am, and I could confidently take care of my child and future ones.
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