After our third child, the abuse had become worse. The cheating, beatings and drug use increased. He subjected me to physical, mental, emotional and psychological abuse. I endured severe beatings in front of our children, and hearing their cries only intensified the violence. I was slapped, kicked, punched in the face, choked, and had food and drinks thrown at me. His friends witnessed the abuse but did nothing to help. It was a living nightmare. My children would hide in the corner during these beatings, their crying faces and outstretched hands forever etched in my memory. I was burned with hot water, and every time he hit me or cheated he made sure to blame me, never accepting responsibility for his actions. He manipulated me daily, making me believe everything was my fault. I wanted to leave many times, but he would profess his love, apologise profusely, and convince me to stay. Eventually, he started telling me that no one would believe me if I spoke out about the abuse. He laughed, mocking the idea that anyone else would ever love a divorced woman with three children. Sadly, I began to internalise these beliefs, thinking I deserved the beatings and mistreatment.
The abuse became so unbearable that sometimes my children and I had to run away at night and seek refuge in the park of our housing complex, just to escape his rage. My children were psychologically scarred from witnessing their father's actions. He tried to kill me twice, but his plans failed. The abuse took a toll on my mental health, resulting in a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and even hospitalisation due to my deteriorating health. At one point, I developed heart problems as a result of the abuse and trauma. It was then that I decided to confide in his mother, hoping she could provide help. Shockingly, her response was to question what I had done to make him angry, confirming his words that no one would believe me. I also confided in my best friend of ten years, only to be met with victim-blaming, suggesting that I dress better to prevent his infidelity and abuse. These responses shattered my faith in people, leaving me unable to speak out again. I questioned what I had done to deserve such a life and cried myself to sleep almost every night. However, I still prayed for strength and guidance to get through this ordeal.
This one day my child looked at me and smiled. I asked her, “Why are you smiling?” she replied, “Because mommy you don't cry anymore, we are all happy now.
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June 2023 | Collective Action Magazine
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