Dear Olori K-solo,
I hear you are back with your husband. I also heard you claimed that everything was staged; I mean, the whole episode of domestic violence was a prank for the sole purpose of entertainment. I heard you cooked up this farce so you could tell who your true friends really are. The blood marks on your face was extreme makeup. And you’ll be shooting the movie of this joke you pulled on all of us very soon; it will feature Funke Akindele Oloyede.
Woman, are you on cheap crack? How dare you insult our intelligence? We saw the bruises, Kikelomo. We followed your rage on twitter, blogs and tabloids. You claimed K-solo was a washing-machine-throwing, range-rover-begging, belly-punching-trying-to-kill-the-baby partner; we saw the pictures and we were vexed; we sought for justice on your behalf, and we stood solidly behind you and your battered face. You fanned our appetite for war and revenge.
But…we know what happened, Kike. This is Nigeria, and we know what goes on when the doors are locked. You see I live in a part of Lagos where wives have the silliest smiles on when they step out of their homes; they wear too much make-up to cover deep-seated insecurities that they wish not to share with anyone lest they are ridiculed. They rendezvous in the best parts of the city, and then come home to a man who is never interested in having any conversation – his fist does all the talking. And so I stay awake all night as the blows and scream of these women trouble my sleep.
You are one of them – those very insecure lot whose idea of an idyllic life is centred around a man. He doesn’t have to be anything special – just a penis and enough semen to make babies, and you’d gladly stay under his umbrella even though it is poked with holes and the rains still come to torment you.
We know what happened, Kike. Your in-laws in collaboration with your family members called you to a meeting. Your mother-in-law took off her gele, parading her grey hair for you to see and respect!
“How can you do this to your own husband, Kike? How? Why? Is he not the hair that covers your shame? Is he not the man? The father of your unborn child? Why would you arrest him, and then why for heaven’s sake would you wash your dirty linen in public to the delight of our enemies? Don’t you know every home suffer their own issues? Why have you disgraced us so? Do you want your child to be a bastard…blah blah?”
And then you broke down in tears and you begged for their forgiveness. Then your own relative chipped in; “This is a very simple matter. You shouldn’t have done what you did. You should have prayed for God to change him. That is what you should do next time. Oya crawl to where your husband is and tell him you are sorry.”
And you crawled, and you wanted to make him happy, and you wanted to bear his dishonour as the reward for your inappropriate behaviour. So you both cooked up your next action after the families had gone and rounds of pleasure were met.
“Yes I’ll do anything to mend this, my dear husband – for the sake of our unborn child.”
You are an adult and so entitled to your actions (as I am to my opinions).
You have failed yourself, Kike; and have belittled a very major concern of thousands of women and men all over the world. Domestic violence is not a balloon that you burst with a needle. It never goes away. If he hits you once, he sure as hell will hit you again. If he throws a washing machine at you once, he sure as hell will crush you with his moving car when he is upset! That is the pyramid of violence. But the good part is, we will not be there to help you the second time. And I do hope for the sake of your unborn child this was indeed just a hoax from two very unintelligent people, because if you are covering his sins just to remain wifey, then you shall remain his slave forever. No one will believe you next time; no one will care.
So please quietly crawl into your hole. Do not try to defend yourself any longer. If you must keep a man at all cost then you must know that your opinion irritates many of us constantly like an ugly and pronounced pimple.