I AM HURTING

By Najel Otieno

I have decided to end it. The pain that seems to have been perfectly written on my fate. The pain that I hadn’t anticipated. Maybe I was too blinded by my misery and didn’t see it being presented to me in a beautifully wrapped box in the name of marriage. When I met Ken, he had promised me the world. The promise every woman out there would want to hear.

How would I refuse? He was giving me the luxuries of life and besides, he was a reputable man. A fine business man who many times I had heard, had political ambitions. How we met doesn’t even matter. When he got down on one knee and I had to say yes, my friends envied the “happily ever after” they thought I’d have.

I remember Njeri, who was like a sister to me, had whispered in my ears that God was lifting me from the quagmire of poverty. As I look up the ceiling waiting for my maker to embrace my soul, though I have no strength to spit on Njeri’s words, a thread of discernible anger spreads through my chest rapidly like fire searing dry bushes.

The contents of the bottle of rat poison that lays empty next to my left arm on that floor is having a strong effect in my body. My throat feels dry and itchy. Yes I need the glass of water on the table above my head, but the depths of my existence do not want it. Maybe it would slow my salvation and lengthen my sorrows. I am certain these are my last moments.

Hot tears trickle down into my ears. I see the day when all hell broke loose. It lingers freshly in my head. It had rained heavily and Ken had not yet arrived home from work. From his workplace, it would take him around forty minutes to drive home. It had been three hours and there was still no sign of him.

No call.

No message.

Nothing at all.

My calls were also going through but there was no response. Fear gripped me like a caged animal struggling for its freedom. Thick, dark clouds still enveloped the sky, an indication that there was still a heavy downpour yet to come. On the other hand, thunder rumbled incessantly above my head. I had started to fear for his life.

No sooner had I picked the phone to make My fourteenth call, than I heard a honk on the gate. It was him. I rushed and opened the gate allowing him into the compound. I proceeded to his car after closing the gate and opened the driver’s door for him. Like every other woman, I reacted to his behavior of not responding to my calls angrily.

What happened next struck me like thunderbolt in a clear cloudless sky. I was dumbfounded. Ken’s first reaction was planting a heavy blow on my face sending me writhing in pain onto the ground. Hot blood trickled down from my mouth onto the wet ground. Before I could ask why he had hit me, heavy kicks landed on my left ribs.

I was in a lot of pain but like a ferocious lion tearing its prey apart, he was dragging me on the ground into the house. He gave my bitter and painful cries a deaf ear. The only words that he kept on spitting from his mouth were, no woman would disrespect him. That was the onset of me being physically and verbally abused.

Even as I lay here, I have tried seeking advise from my friends and his, but no one believes me. Even Njeri herself thinks that I am being unrealistic. They reason that given the kind of image Ken has, he wouldn’t hurt anyone leave alone his own dear wife. If the walls of my house had ears, then they would bear me witness. It’s been two years since the abuses begun and I am convinced enough is enough.

Let me go in peace. Maybe where I go, I shall find comfort. Perhaps,this is the only way for everyone to understand. I know Ken himself won’t miss me, but at least, the energy he used to hit me with will be saved and used to continue building his reputation. I hear a loud bang on the door and I know it’s him. He has come to beat me again.

Even if I had prepared any meal, it would be thrown onto my face. Fortunately, I won’t feel the pain again. It feels like am alighting at heaven’s gate. I frantically turn my head towards the door a smile written all over my face.

I hear him shout, “Hannah! Hannah! If you don’t open this door, I’ll kill you.”

I am happy that I have decided to do it myself because his way would be more painful. I alight at the gate of peace and it’s all over. I find myself panting heavily and sweating profusely. My sleeping gown is all wet. Next to me on the bed, there’s no one. I look on the wall and the clock shows 2 O’clock in the night.

I know today he won’t come home. My mind drifts back to what had transpired. I know it’s a dream but why does it feel so real? Perhaps it was a vision of how it would all end. I am convinced it is a wake up call. I begin packing my belongings. I can’t stay here any longer.

I sit down sleeplessly waiting for the sun to arise from its slumber, and give me the freedom from what might befall me. That would be my last night under that roof. No more abuse. No more pain.

Peace! Peace! At long last, it shall prevail.