October is a month that belongs to women, and the girl child. It is the official month for the cancer awareness campaign and women and child domestic violence campaign in Nigeria, and various parts of the world.
In the part of the world where I live, Nigeria, we have one of the highest records of cases of women and child violence.
A lot of issues have cropped up, everyday we hear and see different stories on the news. We hear stories of a father, sexually assaulting his underaged daughter, we see cases of a man physically abusing his spouse. We see cases of a teenager being married off to a man 3 times her age as his 8th wife, we see cases of terror groups abducting little girls in their classrooms, and holding a nation to ransom.
Studies shows that 60 to 70 percent of divorce cases, occurred because of physical abuse aside financial issues.
It is alarming that we have little or no support from the government, to fully end this social injustice carried out on women and children. Thankfully, we are in the era where we are allowed to speak out.
I dedicate this month’s edition to render my voice against the woman and child domestic violence.
The sound made by heavy leather piercing raw flesh, the stifled groan surging through labored breath, the stinging pain that ripped her body apart; and left her buried under an avalanche of pain and injured pride.
An underaged he forcefully took his bride, a victim of his “righteous” rage, a slave to his unholy trinity of cruelty, a martyr for his tarnished dignity, his wrath became her everyday reality.
She was wrong, and he was strong. He was the one to right her wrong, a self acclaimed jury, serving her his dark fury. The sight of rage and bloodshot eyes, plagued her like blight would plague a plant.
In an instant, the truth she knew;
She grew tired of being wired by a savage sire, she was tired of being his fool, she was tired of being the one abandoned in her blood pool, she was tired of pretending all was cool.
She told herself she couldn’t do it anymore, she wouldn’t be the one to pay for his ugly frustrations, or be the one he mistreated at his own disposition. She was tired of hiding the truth behind shades…
She darned being called a societal pariah, and cared less for what the law would demand, she took her destiny in her hand, and two bullets sent old Isaiah underground.