By Heaven Munyuki | (This is a real life story narrated by an infertile woman Joy, who married a man he loved and had a blissful short stint in marriage before it somersaulted into hell. She then faced a plethora of challenges such as abuse from the man she loved as well as society isolation, the crime she committed being failure to conceive. This is a touching story which depicts daily harrowing experiences faced by young African women who fail to conceive. The pith is on battered wives being: today’s bruises and minor lacerations may be tomorrow’s skull fructure and broken back. Get help or get out.)
Being a vivacious and beautiful young lady I was ready for marriage. My boyfriend Nox wanted to marry me in 2010 but could not afford because he was very poor. He survived on selling scrap metal. One summer afternoon Nox invited me for introductions in Mbare where he lived with his grandmother and sister. Being someone who deeply loved Nox despite the fact that he had nothing materially, I obliged to his request.
When we arrived at their rented room, I could not hold back my tears. They lived in a small kitchen in a dreadful state of dilapidation. They were three of them in such a tiny cubicle and the conditions were squalid. We greeted her grandmother but she was not welcoming at all and I immediately said goodbye after exchanging a few pleasantries. At later date Nox informed me that her grandmother was not impressed by our relationship but we vowed that we would stick to each other through thick and thin. Nox suggested that we needed to live together. I left my job as a housemaid and eloped to him though we were living at his friend’s place. We then relocated to a room he had secured in the neighbourhood for us. We lived happily and we loved each other,though his grandmother was not happy about our stay together.
A year into the marriage I had not conceived. Anxiety, depression and demotivation crept in and i became more paranoid. Neighbours exacerbated the situation by telling me to seek help since no man would live with a barren wife. My journeys to seek spiritual help started. Nox would accompany me to various proliferating apostolic shrines to seek spiritual guidance from various prophets. Three years down the line, nothing materialised despite all our efforts.
We climbed numerous holy mountains, drank various concortions including elephant dung, eggs, soda and hot chilli but to no avail. My husband loved me despite our infertility problem. He never indulged in extramarital affairs and we were supporting each other all the time. He was always defending me when anyone tried to mock me about my infertility problem. He then solemnised our marriage by paying lobola and my parents where exceedingly happy and blessed our union.
Little did I know that payment of lobola had heralded the genesis of my tribulations. Marriage bliss somersaulted into hell, love turned into hatred and life became sour. A month after payment of lobola, Nox told me that if i fail to be pregnant the following month he was going to send me back to my parents so that they could help me to conceive. Emotional and physical abuse became an order of the day. The bride price had authored the demise of my marriage. Indeed as he had promised, he chased me after failing to fall pregnant. He sent a text message to my father informing him about his decision and my father waited for me at our local shops. As soon as I disembarked from the bus my father broke down in tears. He was overwhelmed by emotions and could not stomach such a consequence of infertility.
My father sold cattle and we traversed through many regions of Zimbabwe seeking help from prophets and I returned to my husband Nox after getting assurance that i would fall pregnant as soon as i returned to my husband. I stayed with my husband with the hope that I was going to fall pregnant but heavens could not open. My efforts to get help for me to conceive intensified. I visited more famous prophets and powerful traditional healers. I faced humiliating acts being done to me, sometimes being instructed to remove all the clothes and various humiliating exorcising acts being perfomed on my naked body usually at midnight. I tried everything (sometimes i would move around in the company of my lovely mother), including herbs such as tree roots and barks but the doors remained shut.
When i noticed that misfortunes were dogging me, I decided to go to school to further my studies as a way of occupying my mind. We continued to live together as husband and wife though life was now hard and emotionally I was drained. I later got employment as a babyminder and used my income to cater for our welfare and that of my husband. Truly speaking I loved Nox and I would buy him best clothes from reputable shops. During weekends we would go out to enjoy ourselves in resort areas, but all these efforts went unnoticed.
He would reciprocate with scorn and vilification. I bought various kitchen and dinning assets such as refridgerators and we relocated to dwell in a better apartment using my money all in the name of love. I loved my husband nommatter how bad he treated me because of infertility. From the wages I was getting I managed to save for a residential stand. I was planning a better life for my family.
Days and seasons passed by,my hope of bearing waned with each passing day. Nox informed me that he was going to find a husband for me meaning he was no longer comfortable to continue living with me. I told him point blank that i was i woman not an object that could be exchanged willynilly. Abuse intensified: I would be battered daily with open hands and fists and he would mock my entire generation as a cursed lineage that did not deserve space on mother earth. He would say I was useless in bed, would accuse me of prostitution and infidelity and would say i was a useless parasite that thrived on living lavishly at his expense yet I was not bearing children. To him I was causing huge financial loss.
One evening I came home late from work,it was raining and had been given an umbrella by a workmate. He was so furious as he accused me of being a seasoned prostiture who was in the habit of being given various gifts by boyfriends. He struck me on the head with an iron bar in front of neighbours who tried invain to restrain him. Blood oozed incessantly from the damaged head as he pulled me out of the room into the water soaked ground. All my clothes were drenched in blood and rain and to make the situation worse it was during my menses.
All my tampons were soaked in rain and blood and had never been changed all day,causing an itchy feeling on my genitalia. I managed to seek refuge at a nearby house overnight and came back the following morning thinking that when he had physically punched me he was drunk. I could hardly walk properly,all my ribs were in pain, I had bruises all over my body and blood was dripping from my auditory canal signifying a damaged ear drum.
When I reached our house the door was locked and we followed him to his workplace in the company of a kind hearted old woman where i had slept. We were expecting to reconcile but when we reached to him he was not remorseful at all. I could hardly talk because my mandibles had been dislocated. He advanced towards me ,cleared his throat and spit the sputum on my forehead shouting that he no longer loved me. He reached to his pockets and took a 50 cent coin which he threw at me as a divorce token. At this juncture I accepted the fate, could not bear anymore the beatings and abuse.
I waded home and the pain inflicted during the violence was now taking its toll.Every step i took was with laboured effort. When I reached home i quickly took a bath, removed soiled clothes and wore clean ones, then left to search for a room to rent. It was now a second day since i had last eaten. My body was now too weak to continue, I fell prostrate upon the ground, pespiration cascading down my temples. I felt that my flesh and spirit were being seperated. The gulf of barreness was now so broad,so deep that my spirit shuddered before it. I crawled to a nearby house to search for food. I was feeling that the burden of infertility was now unbearable.The owners of the house gave me some leftovers, I slept, woke up after regaining my strength and resumed my journey to secure a room to rent.Luckily i got one, paid for it and all i was left was the 50 cent token which i used to buy chips since I felt more thirstier and hungrier than before. When I arrived at our house I loaded my property in a hired lorry and left his house to my own place.
After a month in separation, he followed me and apologised but I told him to go and pass the apology to my elder sister which he did.
However one day again he reverted back to his antics, scolded me accusing me of being a useless moron and a barren woman who deserved nothing better other than ill treatment. It was a marathon shouting that lasted for five hours. I never uttered a single word in retaliation despite praying silently. The following day i took a sabbatical and went to my parents. It was a one week breathtaking period in which my parents counseled me before I returned to where we lived, my room.
The pregnancy question was a daily chorus.
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Part 2 and final part of Joy’s story coming
(The author is a Co-founder of Tariro-Hope for the Infertile and Childless support group.He can be contacted on 0718745374 [email protected] ,Tariro-Hope Mwanachipo on facebook, for comments,questions and infertility issues)