I wish I had never met my husband. I wish I had never fallen in love with him. I wish I had never married him. But I was blinded by love. I wish I had the courage to leave him. Every day, I ask myself why I’m still in this marriage. By the end of this story, you’re going to ask me the same thing. Sadness radiants through me like the sun on a bright and hot May day in Kano. The depression of a man with the responsibility of six wives and fifteen children who has lost fifty million Naira to a scam is nothing compared to what my life has become. I’m dying slowly inside and nobody cares, especially not my husband.

I was once happy in this marriage. Believe me. You could see the glow in my eyes from afar. Even my skin shone brighter because my heart was at ease with tranquility. Greetings sat at the tip of my tongue, ready to fly out. “Mama Bon-boy! Well done oh”, “Sani, how market nah?”, “Good afternoon, sir. How is the family?”, “You look good Shekina. See you in church tomorrow.”

My joy was contagious. Everyone who knew me described me as “That woman who is always happy” because I had no cause to be weary. I had married as a young lady of twenty-eight and my husband of fifteen years was the chief bursar at FIRS. Neither did I nor my children lack anything. My children. I could never have imagined that these two words would bring me happiness for ten years and leave me with sadness for eternity. This story is about my husband’s betrayal but it won’t be complete if I don’t tell you first about my children.

It wasn’t until our fifth year of marriage that Soo came out of me five minutes after his sister, Doo. They were the loudest and cutest newborns in the maternity ward. The other woman in labour took a breather to admire my twins and went back to screaming profanities at her husband who was nowhere in sight. My husband stood by my bedside, hands clasped in mine, his face a testament of the utter joy he was feeling deep in his heart.

“They are so beautiful, Dodo,” he said with tears in his eyes. “Thank you for making me a father. I love you so much.”

I was too weak to speak so I only gave him my best smile and nodded. My joy knew no bounds too. For five years, all the doctors kept telling us that I wasn’t barren; that there was nothing wrong with me or my husband. A child would come at the right time. The right time was finally here.

“Would you still like to go ahead with the tubal ligation?” I heard the doctor on duty ask my husband.

Confusion washed over me. What the hell was he talking about? My husband and I hadn’t had that conversation prior to my delivery. What happened to the many birth control methods in the world? Why this one?

“Dodo, we had twins. We don’t need any more children.”

We weren’t aware I was carrying twins because my husband doesn’t believe in having a scan before delivery. He says he likes the element of surprise. Now he was saying he didn’t want more children. What if I wanted one or two in the long run?

“Trust me, Dodo. We will take care of these two conveniently. Besides, you’re not getting any younger.”

No, he didn’t convince me, but I was too tired to put up a fight. I had been in labour for twenty-four hours. I just wanted to sleep. And sleep, they made me do. The procedure was successful. I came back home and motherhood began.

Doo and Soo were so identical, it would have been hard to tell them apart if both were girls or boys. I loved my children and I was very protective of them.

“Dodo, Mama wants to come and spend some time with the children,” my husband had announced a week after our return home from the hospital.

I was gawking at Doo and Soo in their cot next to our king-size bed. Their hands were bunched up in fists, ready to fight, even in their sleep.

“Which Mama?” I pretended not to know that he was talking about his mother. His mother who almost tore our marriage apart because it took me five years to give her a grandchild.