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How did I discover my husband’s true love?

On my wedding day.

I stared at the one million smiling faces in front of me as I sat next to my husband in front of our large wedding guests. 

I watched as the traditional women danced to our traditional music to keep us entertained. But the last thing I needed was entertainment. I needed something else. Something more.

I turned to the man sitting next to me.

I needed recognition. To be recognised of the woman I am about to be.

I stared long at my husband sitting and dancing next to me in his white Babariga. He smiled like this moment mattered to him the most.

But I knew it wasn’t the thought of marrying me or the dancing traditional women in front of us that made him smile. 

It was something else. Something that stood in a distance.

I turned my head to the side.

It was the ebony skinned woman in red. The one with the exposed ebony balloons floating on her chest and that coca-cola hips of hers.

She had just walked in with a man in blue suit. Her husband, perhaps.

But that didn’t stop my husband’s eyes from dancing with enthusiasm and interest. Interest he has never given to me.

Like one of my divorced aunties would say, “There was nothing more seducing to a married man than another man’s wife.” 

And I was yet to discover how true this was.

“Alhaji.” I called out to my husband next to me. He didn’t hear me. He was still looking at Mrs Red Dress.

I looked away and felt that sting in my stomach. That sting of regret. The regret that was supposed to happen years after you were married, not on your wedding day.

The regret that asks, “Can I live with this forever?”

But it was too late as today was the last day before I officially became Mrs Abdulrahman Zakari.

The question is… how did I get here in the first place? 

Let me begin.

My name is Hajiya Abdulmalik. Sorry. Now Mrs Hajiya Abdulrahman Zakari.

I am getting married to the late Senator Abdulrahman Zakari’s son, Alhaji Abdulrahman Zakari.

Alhaji and Hajiya. Our names blended like bread and butter.

Because of how our birth names suited together, everyone believed we were fated to be. Including the matchmaker from my father’s village that brought Alhaji and I together.

It wasn’t a forced or arranged marriage like people believed my religion upheld. It was more like a planned marriage between our families, Alhaji and me. We were allowed to do courtship for 3 months to see if we were a match. 

Alhaji was very nice to me the entire 3 months and of course, I thought he was a good match. I thought he would make a good husband. And so, we proceeded to finally see this day.

The day we celebrate our wedding. And the day I discovered there was more to my husband’s wandering eyes.

****

That evening, my friends and an elderly aunty took me to my husband’s house. It was part of our tradition.

And do you know another thing that is part of our tradition?

Tonight. Rasa budurci (losing virginity).

All my life, I’ve been prepared for this moment. I didn’t care who it would be with, as long as I was married and ready to do it God’s way.

For years, I have envied my friends who were brave enough to lose theirs before marriage and went to kayan mata seller to restore their virginity before they got married.

But now was my moment.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, analyzing every single part of my naked body before I show it to my husband.

Why was my stomach looking too big? Would the acnes on my chest irritate him? Was my breast too small for him?

I debated over and over again what could go on in my husband’s mind when he sees this body. And so, I wore my jallabiya back and finished my make up.

I still wanted to do it. But with clothes on.

In anticipation mixed with anxiety, I opened the bathroom door and entered the room. 

But the lights were off and my husband was snoring in bed.

It was our first night together, what was this rubbish?

I walked over to his side to wake him up. He groaned and pushed my hands away and went back to sleep.

That night, I cried. I cried till I could no longer feel tear drops from my eyes.

****

The next night, it didn’t happen again.

And the next next night.

And 3 days became 5 days.

And 5 days became one week.

I was still a virgin even one month after my marriage. 

I blamed that lady in red dress. Maybe she was the reason why my husband could not sleep with me, because he wanted more. More balloons in front and at the back. And I had neither. 

What was a wife supposed to do?

I could not nag or complain. My father would always tell me that a nagging wife chases her husband away.

And I couldn’t seduce him because that would make me lose my dignity.

And there was only one thing I needed to do to solve this chaos. I checked his phone.

I scrolled through his Whatsapp messages to see if I could find the lady in red dress’ number to see what she was doing right that I was doing wrong.

And you know what? That was the biggest mistake I ever made. 

Because…

“Alhaji.” I looked at him with trembling eyes as he got out of the bathroom.

He froze at the sight of his phone unlocked in my hand. “Hajiya-”

“You like men?”

I didn’t know if it was the disgusted look on my face that made him freak out, but something did make him freak out to get defensive.

At first, he screamed at me for reading his messages, without denying my statement. Then he pushed me to the bed and threw his towel away from his waist.

Then and there, he tried to “prove” to me that I was wrong by finally having sex with me. 

It was horrible. It was very very painful. I begged him to stop but he continued harder.

After what felt like an eternity of torture, he removed his manhood and it became soft real fast. And that was how the sex ended.

No water coming out of it, no pleasure.

No one told me the first time of sex would be that painful. I regretted it all. Sex was overrated. Marriage was overrated.

All my fantasies about sex went down the drain. Everything I’ve been taught about with sex; the tension, the euphoria, the pleasure and the explosives were a big fat lie.

****

One month became two months and two months became six months. 

My husband and I never had sex since the night he tried to “prove” his sexuality. But it didn’t work because the truth became clearer and clearer with time. 

He would go out late at night and come back around 4 or 5 am. Sometimes he wouldn’t come back at all till the next evening.

I knew what he was doing. I knew where he was getting his manly pleasures from. Another man.

Marriage was hard. No. My marriage was hard.

It got worse when we went to family gatherings. The way our parents started asking when we will get pregnant. How was I supposed to know when my husband cannot touch me talkless of releasing his water inside of me?

All this while, I was wrong about the lady in red dress.

It wasn’t the lady in red dress that made his eyes dance in enthusiasm at the wedding. It was her husband. 

The man in the blue suit. He was my husband’s lover.

I later found out they attended the same all-boys boarding school. He was my husband’s senior and they were lovers in secondary school. They still are.

I was sick to my stomach every time I thought about it. It wasn’t just the thought of him liking another man, it was the fact that he dragged me into all this.

He had used me as his mask in order to get accepted into the society.

He knew that if he didn’t get married on time, his secret will be out there.

At this point, there was nothing more seducing to my husband than another woman’s husband.

I had three options to deal with this situation; sleep with another man, divorce him, or kill him.

And I chose the last one. 

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, organizations and incidents appearing in this article are fictitious.

Follow my Instagram page @hjthestoryteller for more updates on my blog.

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6 Comments

  • Imaji
    Posted April 6, 2022 9:15 am 0Likes

    Interesting story

    • Husseina Jafiya
      Posted April 6, 2022 9:25 am 0Likes

      Thank you!

  • Wendy
    Posted April 19, 2022 10:00 am 0Likes

    Mind blowing 🎊🎊

    • Husseina Jafiya
      Posted April 19, 2022 6:17 pm 0Likes

      Thank you!

  • Ify Adigwe
    Posted July 1, 2022 7:14 am 0Likes

    Love the twist. And the honest first sex description. We need more of that in books, rather than the lies.

    • Husseina Jafiya
      Posted July 1, 2022 11:49 am 0Likes

      Thank you! IKR, I’m also tired of all the fantasized versions they sell to us

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