God forgive me but there are so many times I have killed my husband in my head.
I have imagined it over and over again to a point that each time that I pull the trigger and put a bullet through his head I am left with no remorse.
I have imagined so many scenarios of how I would end his life - for example poisoning his food, tempering with his car brakes or cutting him into small little pieces until nothing but blood and shreds of his flesh is what remains of him.
My husband just knows how to drive me mentally insane. Its the small little things that he does that drives to a certain point that as I stand here today I am always contemplating over becoming a murderer.
There is not a piece of me which he has not broken.
My confidence, my sanity and my heart.
Over and over again he takes power from my hands and treats me so bad that I sometimes wonder why I even married him in the first place.
Each day that I wake up with him next to me ndinotombozvituka kuti 'how the hell did I end up falling for this man'. It seemed like the moment that I said "Yes" to his fake promises of a happily ever that's the very moment I ceased to exist.
I actually wonder how I have managed to stay in this unhappy marriage.
What was I even thinking?
Had I been told that this was the kind of life I was going to have with him then I would have definitely stayed single for the rest of my life.
He does not appreciate me or any of my efforts. Cook him breakfast early in the morning, he complains that I am a spoiled brat. Things are hard, the economy is bad and I should be saving instead of wasting. Skip cooking breakfast I immediately become the villain, an uncultured woman who wants to starve him to death.
Wake up early in the morning in a good mood he quickly points out that the reason why I am so happy is because I am cheating on him and I probably have a boyfriend. According to him, "How can you be smiling all the time when things are this bad? You definitely have a man you are sleeping with?"
Words are exchanged, a fight erupts, he goes through my phone and after finding nothing of any sort he claims I have cleaned up all the evidence and he still knows its true so he goes to beat me instead.
Beatings, I have come to endure. He calls them necessary evils to keep me in check.
Like I said before which part of me hasn't he broken already?
I bravely put up a smile, wear my shades of black, hide my scars with my scarfs and when everyone ask what happened to me I simply lie and say I hurt myself.
Wake up with a frown he quickly complains over my attitude claims that I am ungrateful over everything he has done for me. He quickly demands I put up a smile otherwise he will beat it out of me.
I ran away to my parent's house I tell them of my misfortune.
Mother quickly says, "Ndozvinoita dzimba mwanangu wotoshinga. Ndoimba yako iyoyo. Namata udzokere kumurume wako"
My father swears I should never return to him and that we should report him to the police for putting his hands on me. He comes with his sisters and my aunt.
They hold a family meeting, he cooks up a story lays all the blame on me. I am the one with a problem and everyone believes him. I am the one who is made to apologize over my rude attitude towards my husband.
Then I return home and everything is still the same.
This series is dedicated to all the victims of gender based violence. This is my own way of advocating against GBV against all women, children and girls.
Ciao Shashie 263!
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