To whom it may concern,

How do you feel when silence becomes the water to quench your thirst for freedom? I guess you thought about it. Yes. I was a victim. I was blinded by his love, his care, and his warmness. I thought I had eyes—they were for completion and not purposeful. 
Henry was his name. Our paths crossed a year ago at Kaduna during the NYSC program. We were both in the same firm for our primary assignment. His handsomeness was a sight to behold. His dark skin glinted light and his eyes were his tools for seduction.He was soft-spoken; his speech was graced by the serenity of his presence. I had always wished to be with confident men—he wore it like a hoodie on a winter morning, but I never knew he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. A day with him gave me a reason to be with him forever. For the better and the worse. For in pain and joy. For in health and in sickness. I said the pledge on 4th March in 2023. Our marital bliss was the talk of the town. My Asoebi did justice to the golden and black, which were the colors of the day. I was on cloud nine; I seized the attention of everyone with my worst dance moves. Who wouldn't be happy to marry at Thirty-Five after a fleeting romance?

As the sun set, the guests left their seats with their plates full of debris. I had been taken to the hotel with Henry. He was stoic all through the ride. The suite he booked was timely; I love the ambiance of the room. Henry was having his bath; I thought I would have joined him. The first bath as a couple. He declined and I never bothered. Perhaps, he was shy. I followed suit after he had gone out of the bathroom. My belly fled butterflies as I wore my black lingerie and my scented lotion that illuminated the whole room. I made it straight to him as I swayed revealing my body bit by bit to set the stage.
"What are you doing?" He asked. I looked at him; it was common knowledge of what I did —honeymoon, of course. 
"Go to bed; do you think I would sleep with an Elephant?" He reclined to the bed. I stared at myself in the long-standing mirror to know where the Elephant came from. I came a bit closer and rested my right hand on his neck. "My love," before I could complete the last word, he had risen like a starving lion and his right hand had dropped an ear-itching slap on my left cheek. "Go to bed!" He screamed as he made it straight to the sitting room in the suite.

I felt the coldness of the night all over my body. I needed to catch my breath. I quietly sat on the bed staring myself in the mirror. Perhaps, it could be a dream. I reminisced on the promises he made to me on our pass-out parade. He was the utter opposite of the man he promised to be. Days turned into a week in the suite and his hand never touched me for fun except the countless slaps I received for making advances to him. We went back to his mansion at Muna Avenue, Ogborhill. His house was a testament to his affluent background. I was glad we were back. Perhaps, he was afraid there might be invisible cameras in the suite. Now, he was in his safe haven—mi casa su casa— but, my abyss. 
Every day left my body with an injury. Dr. Bassey never bothered to diagnose me. He knew methylated spirit and some pain relief capsules were all I needed. He had once convinced  Henry that I needed a two-month bed rest at the hospital for my safety after he almost drowned me at the pool an evening before Ramadan. He initially consented to it but came back after a week to pick me up. I became caged in his den of torture.

In an attempt to escape, the truth dawned on me from the letter in his drawer. I was oblivious that my marriage was a game for him to fully get his inheritance  as his father's will stated: "Henry must be married with a child before his right  is given to him." I couldn't go back to my parents. He paid for my mother's kidney transplant in India as a calculated trap. I consented, thinking he was a saint, but I never knew I just signed up for eternal torment.