When you were five years old, you had asked your mother what the thing between your legs was. You had been curious and you meant no harm but then you had forgotten that the curious cat had gotten killed or in your case, slapped. Your mother had screamed and had called you a spoilt child and you had been so confused when her palm connected with your right cheek. Your whole face had tingled with pain as tears brimmed in your eyes. You had never asked your mother again but you would find out what it was in the later years.

When you were twelve, just starting secondary school, you found out that there was blood on your pink underwear. You had screamed for your mother and when she found you, your pant bundled up at your ankles and your hands dripping with warm blood, she had knocked your head with her knuckles and handed you a thin pad.

You were a woman now, she had shouted at you pulling at your ears, and you were not to let any man or boy touch you. If you did, you would get pregnant, and if you got pregnant, she would beat you to death.

You had avoided boys like a plague and you had ignored your friends when they laughed at you about it. Clearly, they were naive and you would have the last laugh when they got pregnant.

Your chastity had lasted for about a month until one boy, you could not remember his name, touched your shoulder. He had taken your yoghurt and you had ran after him, beating his back viciously and shouting at him to give you back your drink. When you had finally caught up with him, his school shirt successfully bunched into your fist, you collected your yogurt from him making sure that even your fingers did not touch. You had sucked your teeth and he bent over, laughing and trying to catch his breath, and when he stood up back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and the world stopped.

"You have gotten me pregnant, this boy," You had told him softly, tears of regret running down your face as you thought about how you could have just left the yoghurt for him.

The smile on his face faltered, but only for a moment, "What do you mean? Pregnant ke?"

"Ahh!" You had screamed and tore at your hair in frustration. You were in agony and as you stumbled backwards, the boy put his two hands on your shoulders to steady you and more tears fell down your face. You felt faint and nervous.

"Vero?" He asked. "What is the matter?"

"Leave me alone!" You screamed again and thought about how you would take care of a child when you were just a child yourself. You turned to the boy, "You'll take care of this child too, you hear me? You will not leave me to fend for myself. Bastard!"

You left him there and he laughed after you, the laugh sounding scared and amused at the same time. You wanted to leave the school immediately but you knew that your mom would ask questions and you would not be able to lie to her so you waited until closing time when your elder brother came to pick you, and then, you would tell him everything.

When it was closing time, you rushed out of the class and almost forgot to take your bag. Your elder brother would be waiting for you outside the gate because his school closed an hour before yours.

"Big brother," You called out immediately you saw him, the tears you had been holding in class tumbling out in streams, as you ran into his arms.

"Okparavero," He pulled you to him like he always did and studied your face for a while. "What happened to you?"

You sobbed loudly, not caring that people were staring at you, and tried to talk to him, "I... I," You started bawling again.

"Talk Vero!"

"I'm pregnant, big brother!" You blurted out and continued crying. The hand that had been rubbing your shoulder froze and the look on Brother Ochiora's face was one of pure horror. For one fearful moment, you thought that he would push you away but he only took your hand and pulled you to walk with him.

"Erm... Let's talk about it at home. The public is no place for this kind of talk."

When you finally got home, you were relieved to see that your mother was not yet at home. If she had been, she would have sent you on one errand or the other and you would not have been able to talk to Brother Ochiora.

"Vero, how did it happen?" He asked solemnly, quietly, and you knew he was disappointed and that made you even sadder.

"It was not my fault, big brother," You were sobbing again and hiccuping uncontrollably but he made no efforts to console you, he was lost and confused, no more better than you.

"Was he bigger? Did he force you?"

At that point, his questions began to confuse you. Surely, Brother Ochiora must have known that you had to avoid getting touched. The boy did not force you, you had just let your guard down.

"I let him touch me, big brother. It was all my fault. I let him touch me and now, Mama will kill me."

"Oh my God, Okparavero!" He snapped at you. "Where were your teachers? When did this happen?"

Trust Brother Ochiora to always ask complex questions. You ignored the first one and said, "Today?"

His eyebrows furrowed at that and the look he gave you was one of irritation, "Today? Vero, do you think this is a joking matter?"

"But I'm not joking," You shouted back and he shook his head as if he could not believe that you just shouted.

"When did you even start it? You did not tell me anything, Okparavero." He said, rubbing his temples.

"Start what?" He was confusing you more and more. Maybe Brother Ochiora did not know anything about pregnancy.

"The... The stuff," He said in a hush-hush manner and you had never wanted to slap someone so bad.

"What stuff? The bleeding?" He too looked ready to slap you and you moved away from him, to the far end of the sofa.

"I know about the bleeding! The touching? The probing? Don't act dumb! I'm trying to help you."

"There was no probing!" You screamed back, standing up now, "He just touched me on my shoulder. It did not hurt much."

He looked pale and his weight sagged against the sofa, "Your shoulder? He touched you on your shoulder and you think you're pregnant?"

"Yes," Then you told him everything your mother had told you.

Tears had filled his eyes, and he had told you later that they were tears of relief because he had been so scared, he said, "You're not pregnant, Vero. Mama was lying. If that was what it took to get pregnant, all women would have a baby in their belly."

Your knees buckled underneath you and you fell against Brother Ochiora sobbing into his shirt was you recalled the nasty way you had felt.

One would have thought that you would never trust your mother again. One would have been wrong.

~°~°~°~

You were twenty-six when you met Duhu at school. It was at a concert and a famous musician was performing. You had been uncomfortable because you were not much of a party goer. He had approached you with unwavering confidence and a cup of wine and it was love at first sight.

Your mother loved him because he was tall, handsome, and rich, everything your idiot father wasn't. A man like him could do no wrong in your mother's eyes. Your friends would not laugh at him because he was tall and not hunched at the back. He would not leave you to fend for yourself because he was rich. It was a win-win!

Brother Ochiora, though, hated Duhu with a passion so great, that even you felt it when Brother Ochiora spoke of him or when they were in the same room. You would have left him then because of your elder brother but you had liked Duhu, loved him even, and Brother Ochiora did not have a tangible reason for his hate. At first, he said he did not like Duhu because he was six years older than you, the same age as him, and then he said he did not like Duhu's face. You loved your brother but at the time, you had loved Duhu more and your mother loved him too and because you were always trying to please your mother, you had stayed with him.

You should have known! You should have known that Brother Ochiora's hatred ran deeper. It was something that even him could not see with his own two eyes but something he felt deep in his bones. You should have been wary but you allowed whatever you felt to burn you to ashes.

You also did not leave Duhu because of your friends. They were not really your friends because they all were envious of you and they tried to get Duhu for themselves. Unlike all your other boyfriends that you had hidden, you had taken to rubbing Duhu in their faces. It was only fair because they had mocked you while you tended to your broken heart and now that you had Duhu and they had only useless men who could not even buy a common skirt for them. They tried to seduce him but Duhu only had eyes for you, or so you had thought.

~°~°~°~

It was a few weeks to your 28th birthday when he had first slapped you. You both had been arguing about something petty and you had not even thought that it was serious but Duhu had been seething and that fact had irritated you because he always got angry about petty things.

So you had argued with him about something you could not remember, something that you had been smiling about inside. He told you to shut up and that was when you got infuriated and then you told him to make you shut up and he did. He slapped you.

For a few seconds, your brain could not process what had just happened and you stood there, staring at him, as you pressed a hand to your face, the heat you felt told you that the slap had been real. Tears filled your eyes unwillingly and you wanted them to go back because they were embarrassing you. You were ashamed because of the tears and you looked away from Duhu but then you looked at him again and you saw that he seemed shocked but still a little bit angry.

"Vero..." You did not wait for him to finish his sentence as you rushed out of the house you shared with him with your handbag and phone. Your heart ached, not because the love of your life had slapped you, but because of the look on his face; as if you had been the cause of everything, as if you had made him do what he did not want to do by arguing.

You had blamed yourself for getting him angry. You knew that your mother would blame you too if you told her but you had taken a cab to her house anyway. When you thought about it now, it would have been better to ask Brother Ochiora for advice and help but you had not known that then so you had gone to your mother, craving the warmth that your mother would never give you.

She had looked at you suspiciously when she came to open the door, not even caring to ask why your eyes were bloodshot and your face, tearstained and swollen.

She had motioned for you to enter with her index finger and she sat down on the couch with a thud, her wrapper hanging very low around her droopy breast and asked, "How is your husband?"

You had not known what you felt towards her, perhaps a deep sense of resentment, because you knew that she knew and because of her tone and demeanor, you knew that she would not take your side.

"He is not my husband, Mama," You said. "Mama, he slapped me."

She had started to suck her teeth even before you completed your sentence, "So? Is that why you are here, crying like a bush baby? I have slapped you too and did you die?"

You had expected all that but hearing her say it, without even a hint of sympathy, you had felt a ripple of shock go through you and fresh tears pooled in your eyes.

"Mama, you slapping me is a little bit different. A man isn't supposed to lay hands on a woman!" Your voice raised at the last part and you ignored the look on your mother's face.

"You came here to shout at me? If so, get out. If you came here to listen to my advice, listen and listen carefully; he is your husband and you are his property. He has paid your bride price and in a few months, the wedding will take place. See, you are old. If Duhu does not marry you, no one will."

"Mama-"

"Shut up! You will go back to him, Vero! You will go back to him this instant."

You had done as she had asked.

~°~°~°~

On your wedding night, he had raped you.

The wedding had gone through very well. A lot of people had showed up even when you told your mother that you wanted a small gathering. Brother Ochiora's wife was your chief bridesmaid, and his beautiful daughter was your flower girl. Duhu was very happy too and he had hired a groomsman that morning because he had no friends. You had looked spectacular in your blue wedding dress and everybody had thought so, even your mother.

You were tired that night, exhausted, and as you got rid of the make-up from your face you could think of nothing else but sleep.
Duhu had come out of the bathroom then with only a towel wrapped around his waist and he said, "Babe, how far? Oya, clean up that thing fast so we can do it quickly."

You turned your back to him, a small smile on your face, "Do what, Duhu? I want to sleep o. Let's do it tomorrow. We're married now," You removed you wedding gown from the bed and placed it neatly inside the wardrobe. "We can do it anytime we want, baby, but I am very tired now."

You had been scared as you spoke to him, even though you would not admit it to yourself. You had told yourself that he would understand, he would be a little disappointed but he would understand. You had told yourself that he would let you sleep, but he didn't, as unconsciously expected.

"What did you say, Vero?" He said calmly. "You have made me wait all week and for what? You are now saying this... this nonsense! I could have any woman I want now, Vero, right now, but I choose to be with your mother fucking ass and you're telling me this? You must be joking. We are going to do it!"

You wanted to keep your mouth quiet, wanted to forcefully pry it shut with your fingers so the words would be nothing but unheard mumbles, but his words had made you very angry, "See, go and meet all those women that want you o. As for me, I am not fucking you today."

You had turned away from him to face the mirror and he grabbed your neck almost immediately and he ripped the towel up you as he pulled you up. He threw you to your bed and your naked back hit the matress harshly.

"Duhu... Duhu, you promised," You sobbed out. "You promised you wouldn't hit me anymore."

He silenced you with a punch that busted your lip and made your head slice with pain. He said, "Don't ever question me! You are very stupid! Stupid, stupid girl!"

You screamed and screamed as he kept on delivering blows to your head. His eyes were vacant as he groped your breasts and removed his towel with the other. When you saw that he was hard, more tears sprang into your eyes and you felt vomit at the back of your throat. He probed you with his manhood, grunting sickly as he moved slowly. Your tears were subdued with defeat and as his body shook with his orgasm, as he rolled off you, you felt disembodied.

You ran to your mom the next day and she was livid. For the wrong reasons, actually.

"Rape?" She laughed without mirth, clapping her hands in wonder. "You have guts to sit there and tell me that your own husband raped you? He slept with you o, he did not rape you."

"He did, mama," You ran your hands over your face and shook your head. "I'm leaving him. I can't take it anymore."

"Chineke, this girl! You just got married to him yesterday! Eii! What do you want people to say about me? Ehn? That aside sef, who will recharge for Gotv for me? Who will pay nepa money? Okparavero, go back to Duhu now, before he starts wondering where you are.

"Mama-"

"Shh! Come and take some oha soup for your husband."

~°~°~°~

You had lost your third pregnancy around three in the morning. You did not remember the date but you remembered the time because you had not been able to sleep and you kept checking the time to see when Duhu would come in even though you knew it meant trouble.

You could barely tolerate Duhu, you hated him. He had beaten the last two pregnancies out of you and when he had been sober and remorse, he had cried and begged for forgiveness, forgiveness that you would never give him. But you stayed. You know why.

He came into the room that you no longer shared, smelling of alcohol and anger, and he narrowed his eyes when he saw you. He was annoyed, annoyed that you were still alive.

"You!" He spat out and twisted his mouth in disgust and with no warning at all, he began to hit your stomach viciously with his legs and hands. He was drunk, you could easily overpower him but instead you curled into a ball to protect your unborn child but Duhu would have none of that. He kept on finding ways to kick your stomach and when you felt the glob of blood slip out of you, you knew he had destroyed you for the third time and you were irritated with yourself.

Why had you stayed? Why had you let him take the three most important things that had ever happened in your life? Why did you not fight back? Why had you listened? Why had you stayed?

You did not know the answer to your questions, and it filled you with a lingering feeling of uselessness. You did not want to be useless, so you started kicking Duhu back, angrily, your legs jerking up and down. It was loss that made you tighten your fists, punching his head with childish fervor as he sank down to his knees. It was regret that made you finally pack your bags and leave him as you asked yourself why you had not done so sooner.

You would have rather he died, good riddance to bad rubbish, but he did not. He lived, all of him, but a part of you died.

You did not go back to your mother this time around, instead, you went to Brother Ochiora and he cried when you cried and he shouted at you for not telling him, for not confiding in him, for trusting your mother. When you said you did not want to burden him and his family, he had looked at you like he wanted to kill you but could not. Brother Ochiora was the one who helped you. He was the one that helped you find a job and a therapist. He helped you buy lotions and body scrubs that he said would clear all your bruises. He was the one that helped you piece your life back together.

                                  ~°~°~°~

When you were forty years old, your mother died.

The doctors said she had a stroke and because she lived alone, the girl that helped her around the house had already gone home, no one could help her.

You felt nothing. You felt no remorse that you had not spoken to her in six years; she refused to talk to you for a while because no woman in her clan had ever gotten divorced and you disgraced her with your nonchalant air and she was ready to talk to you, you had added her to the list of people you hated. Sure, she had begged for pity, she had begged to see Nnamdi when he was born, even begged to be invited to the wedding when you had gotten married to Kolade. You honored none of her wishes and you felt no remorse that you had not listened, all you felt was a part of you breaking off and for some reason, you liked it.

You did not go for her burial, even when Kolade said you should. Brother Ochiora did not force you, did not even say a word when you had said that you would not be attending, only nodded, his eyes clear with understanding.

And when you thought about it, you realized that everything bad that had happened to you was your mother's fault and not yours.

And everything good that had happened, and would happen, was by your own doing and the family that now surrounded you.

And that was enough.