The
heart of man is wicked. That seems to be a common saying widely used by
us. What we often do not ask is the action that prompts that reaction. I
want to share my story so some of you out there will learn
lifematics-101(Trust no one).
I have been married for 9years and
after much attempts to have a child of our own, 5years into the marriage
we had a boy. It didn’t come as easy as I have just put it; by the way I
didn’t state I married an Igbo man who had an identical twin and I am a lady. That alone had come with loads of back and forth from the early
preparation days of getting married to finally having a child. Some who
have been in my shoes can relate better, I guess. Inter-cultural
marriage isn’t always one smooth ride.
My husband’s twin was one
man I always had high regard for, he was calm, ever willing to listen
whenever my husband and the rest of the family came hard and blamed me
for childlessness. A times I often wished I married him instead of my
husband. That was how much effect he always had on me during those
trying times.
All these while, my husband never had an issue with
the closeness that existed between myself and his twin, in fact he
usually encourages him to come around and spend time with us; much to my
delight considering he often gave comforting words whenever my husband
chooses not to understand. There were days in which we just hung out and
just enjoyed being happy. He makes some moves that I sometimes find
offensive but my husband smiles and says he is my twin.
On this
certain day, my husband went to work. I was home seeing a movie when my
bro-in-law offered me wine he got on his way to our place, out of
excitement I popped, had few shots while we giggled and laughed as
usual. Few minutes later, I felt tipsy and tired, not too long I fell
asleep. Waking up, I found myself in the bedroom Unclad, examined myself
and realized there was a sexual intercourse. Sitting across me was my
bro-in-law equally undressed smiling and said it was time for me to know
the truth because he could no longer bear it and feels I deserve to
know the truth. It was like the saddest and most disappointing moment in
my life.
Before I could say a word, he told me all what
happened. He told me it was his twin(my husband)’s idea to often switch
places at nights. Apparently my husband had low sperm count according to
his twin, as such could not father a child, that he often had sex with
me at night while I thought it was my husband. While he said all these, I
started adding two plus two together and it became obvious he was
saying the truth. My husband sometimes wear a red boxers to bed and when
we wake up in the morning I will find a black boxers on the floor and
red on him. A lot of things started running through my mind and it began
to make sense.
I broke down and couldn’t stand it. Called my
mother on the phone and told her I was finished. I couldn’t tell her
what had happened and suicide became my next option. My husband had
ruined me, he had made me worthless, life no longer means anything to me
as I now see myself as a piece of poo.
Suicide was all I thought
of, the two closest persons to me had passed me around like a used
sex-toy. I have left my husband’s house and moved on with my son, whom I
am not sure of whom the real father is. Trust nobody. Life is cruel. My
story.
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