Dinner with the devil
Sukura was a no-nonsense woman who beats her husband at the slightest reason. She was so mean, strong and fearless that her husband feared her like death. At times she would give her husband, Ajadi, some thunderous slaps in quick succession for flimsy reasons, and the poor man wouldn’t raise an eyebrow because of his physical weakness.
They had been married for seven years, but all Ajadi could reap in this relationship was punishment and more punishment. Ajadi was a carpenter, while Sukura was a fish seller. Sukura was tall and had a masculine stature and physique. She was indeed very macho and muscular. She talked and gesticulated like a powerful wrestler. Her voice sounded like that of a man. She was the boss at home and controlled her husband at will.
Ajadi regretted ever marrying this woman, who beats him at the slightest provocation. He wasn’t so tall and strong like his wife; he was skinny. At times he would wonder if it was a woman he got married to and shakes his head regretfully for his wrong choice.
This contrasting couple lived in the heart of Maroko, Lagos and they were the topic of discussion in the area. Ajadi was 35 years old, while Sukura was in her early 30s.
On a particular Wednesday morning, something terrible happened when Ajadi didn’t give his wife food allowance quickly. He regretted this action all his life. He was about to put his hand in his pocket for the money when Sukura descended on him in terrible fury.
“How dare you waste time to give me ‘chop money,’ you bastard?” she hollered. “You must be crazy or something!” Instantly, she grabbed the money from her husband and gave him some heavy barrage of blows. The poor man went down like a felled tree and Sukura pounced on him like a hurricane and beat the daylight out of the weak Ajadi, who cried out loudly in pains and screamed, seeking the help of neighbours, who scurried inside trying to rescue him.
In the next few minutes, blood was all over the man’s body. His eyes and nose got swollen in the fight before neighbours could rescue him from his violent wife. That day, Ajadi was admitted at Mount Zion Hospital for injuries he sustained from that fight and spent four days to recover before he was discharged from the hospital.
He would never forget that encounter in a hurry and was so scared to go home when he was discharged and he begged one of the town’s chiefs to beg his wife on his behalf.
But Sukura was adamant; she wouldn’t listen to anybody when maltreating and giving her husband the inhuman attack. No one could intercede on behalf of the poor man.
Really, it wasn’t that Ajadi failed to give his wife all that she needed, money-wise. The fact was that Sukura was just a troublemaker and very hot-tempered. She was yet to bear the fruit of the womb. Everyday, neighbours had a hectic time trying to settle unnecessary fights between them. She never tempered justice with mercy; she loved to see her husband cry like a baby.
The assault and insult on Ajadi knew no bounds and was getting worse by the day. He had become totally frustrated and started contemplating suicide. He thought if he killed himself, this monster of a woman wouldn’t have anybody to beat again.
(To be concluded next week)
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