The Last Straw

@mbiatabasi · 2025-07-09 15:14 · The Ink Well

I had not spoken to my father for days, and he definitely wasn't the kind of person to go back on his words. He had spoken from the depth of his heart, just like he had mentioned as we conversed in the dark of our dimly-lit one bedroom that could barely fit into our belongings.
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For the entire time that night, I refused to do him the honour of looking into his piercing eyes, the eyes which were all I had to see to get into order as a child. I knew eye contact with him could soften my very fragile heart and possibly push me to rethink the journey of misery I was about to embark on, so I avoided it like a plague.

Yes, I chose to call it the journey of misery. That was the obvious. I was about to walk down forever with a man who had nothing but a basic WAEC certificate. He was hardworking with potentials dangling at every corner, but the reality was that I was going to be the man and the woman of the relationship.

“Whatever you see in that home, don't call me” My father had said that night. He knew I wouldn't change my mind, but had decided to fulfill all righteousness.This was going to be a rough one for me, but like the defiant and daring child I was, I was ready for the worst.

I was sure I wanted Nkem. I had always crowned myself the Messiah who had it in her power to change a lot, just like I had emerged from 10th position in my primary school to challenge a girl who understood the length and breadth of mathematics to a fierce contest. Well, luck shone on me, and I defeated her, though the margin was insignificant, but it didn't change the fact that I was the champion that day.

In my head, I was also going to silence every naysayer and every theory about Nkem, the one who had my heart in his care, and change the narrative of our lives.

“Why would you choose this life?” Salem, my childhood bestie began to quiz me on the eve of my wedding. From the foregoing of my relationship with Nkem, she wouldn't miss any opportunity to express how pissed she was that I wanted to keep wallowing in the “low life”, as she would call it. I dismissed her question with another question, and that was the end of the conversation for that day.

It was a small wedding no doubt, but it was a fulfilling one for me. I loved Nkem, and that was all that mattered. They had accused him of probably tying me down with some love charm. Of course, it was true. He had tied me down with his endless affection and care.

Nkem wasn't the richest man in the world, but his heart was rich with love for me.I was so consumed that I became blind to his financial state.
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“Babe, please I need some money to pay my way to the shop.” My husband had asked quite early that morning. I dipped my hand and got him a wad of notes I had received from one of my customers as a “forgive me” package for missing my wedding. I gave him the money with all joy that morning, but this joy didn't stay on for long.

I had my catering business going on so well for me. My store was quite close to Nkem’s carpentry workshop. It had become a routine to take lunch to him every 2pm, since it was close. I did this with all happiness, but my only sadness was what I saw on this day.

“Babe, your food is here o.” I announced as I moved into the waiting room where most of the boys there sat to unwind. He wasn't there, but I was told he didn't go too far. I moved further away as if to find him, and eventually bumped into him amidst other guys. I wanted to say something, but I held my breath as the respectful wife I was, and walked away.

“Musa, abeg,keep this for my husband”. I handed the lunch to one of the boys and returned to my shop.

My heart was heavy the entire evening. I didn't know when tears began to flow. It had been a rough week at home with limited cash flow, but there, I found the man called husband, placing a bet of a hundred thousand. I was shocked to know that the man who kept asking for money for his fare to work had such money to gamble with.

Nine months down, I saw a side of me I didn't know existed. I wasn't the kind to complain or say so much about things, but my marriage to Nkem had made me become one. I was constantly complaining of his nonchalant attitude to his carpentry work, and even his gambling.

The last straw had come, and I couldn't hold up much longer. I had made good savings to buy the things the hospital had demanded, ahead of my delivery. Somehow, he found the money and placed a bet he claimed he was very certain would click, only to lose all of it.

I didn't have to wait for another mega storm to hit before taking caution. At night, while he was away, I took all that belonged to me and walked away.

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