I Married The Devil And It Cost Me Everything
I was nursing a broken heart when I asked my friend, “Don’t you have any good guys you can set me up with? I am so tired of tired of meeting men who hurt me.” She asked if I was sure and I said yes.......CONTINUE READING THE ARTICLE FROM THE SOURCE>>>>>
It didn’t take long before I received a call from a man. “Hello Asha, my name is Jerry,” he said smoothly, “Nancy told me amazing things about you, and I decided I should get to know you for myself. Is that okay with you?”
He couldn’t see me but I smiled and nodded. I almost forgot he was still on the line as I replayed the way my name rolled off his tongue. I mimed the sound, “Hello Asha,” as I felt giddy.
“Hello Asha, are you there?”
“Oh yes, I can hear you. Sure, I would like to get to know you too,” I said coolly.
Things moved pretty fast after that. I suppose I was happy to feel anything that was not pain. And Jerry made me feel a lot of things in those early times. Joy? Yes. Hope? Definitely. Pain? Absolutely not. His presence in my life felt like a breath of fresh air. It was the healing I needed.
Falling in love with him was easy. He was sweet and gentle and so kind. How could I not? He told me he had nothing to offer me apart from his heart.
“I am an only child of a single mother. My mother struggled to take care of me but her strength couldn’t do much. We are still struggling to get by right now but this time I am the one taking care of her.”
This didn’t push me away. Instead, I felt bad for him. I wanted to help lessen his burdens. Maybe that was my mistake. Instead of being a girlfriend, I became a mother to him.
I took care of him and provided for his needs. I took care of his old mother too. His aunt, who saw everything I was doing for them did not approve. One day she called me and said, “I think you should take your time and get to know this man and his mother before you invest all your resources into them.”
When I asked why she answered, “They are my family but I like you so I will be honest with you. Stay away from them, they are bad news.”
She refused to give me further information so I dismissed her as a jealous woman.
What didn’t I do for this guy? I gave and gave, to the extent of paying for his graduation expenses. I took him clothes shopping. I would go to the market and shop for food for his household. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
A year into the relationship I got pregnant. He moved to Nairobi to come live with me because of my job. I was happy that we were living together as a family before the baby would arrive.
He assured me that we would get married with time. “Until then, this is the start of the line of the rest of our lives together as one happy family.”
In my seventh month of pregnancy, we got into a fight and he beat me black and blue. It’s a miracle that I survived and the baby was unharmed too.
When he calmed down you should see him. So remorseful. “Asha, you know this is not who I am. I don’t know how it happened but that’s the last time you would see me like that.”
I believed him but he did it again and again and again. He kept saying he would change. I also said he would change. He didn’t.
At some point, we got married and had another child but nothing changed.
He drank, insulted me, and hit me when he was in the mood. My sister, who lived with us while attending college, also suffered his outbursts. I reported him to the police, but nothing changed.
I run a small shop that provides for me and my children. He took money from it daily, despite having a job. Three months ago, his mother visited and saw everything—the abuse, the insults, the way he treated me. She said nothing. Eventually, she joined him. Together, they mocked me for the slightest mistakes I made. Their words always tore me apart.
When he finally got a permanent job, I thought things would get better. Maybe he was so angry because he was financially down. They say men don’t act right when they don’t have money.
I was wrong. He became worse. There were days he would throw my things outside, and tell me to leave.
Two months ago, I was cleaning the house on a Sunday, when he started another argument. This time, he beat me so badly, while saying, “I should just finish you and let the children be orphans.”
I don’t know how I escaped, but I did. I called my brother, and when he confronted him, Jerry insulted him too.
By then I had saved some money. So I didn’t go back. I slept in guest houses until I found a new place and moved in with my kids.
I endured his abuse for so long but I am glad I finally chose my life over whatever crazy love I felt for him. This man drained me. He killed my spirit. Every fight, every insult, stripped me of my self-worth.
I stayed because I thought the devil I knew was better than whatever monstrosity awaited me out there but I know now that I harmed myself by staying for too long.
Now, I am alone with my two children. He has refused to take responsibility. I have reported him to the appropriate authorities, and I am waiting for a court date. But I don’t have money for a lawyer. My business is failing. There are rent arrears left from our previous house. See how I have lost everything by holding onto the wrong man.
My consolation in all this is that I have peace now. No more beatings. No more cries. No more pain. My children are okay. They seem lighter and relieved. I will take this as a win and hold on to it as I rebuild my life from scratch.
I am sharing this because I know I am not the only one who ended up with an abusive partner. In case there is someone like me out there who needs this, you are better off alone than in a marriage that will destroy you. Don’t stay in a toxic situation hoping things will change. It will not change. Leave!