Soiled #ProjectNigeria ✔️

Chapter Two: Chaos

Let me tell you a story.

Six years ago, when I was twenty. I got married to husband number one, admist pomp and pageantry. I smiled, laughed, blushed and cried. Of course I had to cry, I was getting married. I was leaving my family, except that they had only done one good thing to me. Push me everyday.

Push me to study economics, push me to marry husband number one, push me to get pregnant, push me to stay in an abusive marriage.

Husband number one, whose name I won't mention, held my hand for the first time at our wedding dinner. He had smiled down at me with his absolutely innocent face. At that point I thought I had found respite from the strain on me from my parents. I thought it was all over.

One tip about him;

He looks innocent, has soft looks that draw you in, that hold you spell bound. He has this brown eyes, those eyes pull you in. They let let you in on his 'innocence '

So I was hurt, disappointed and anger was an understatement when he beat me for the first time.

Our marriage was four months old. Like a baby right?

After beating me, mind you, he beat me in places where it would never be noticed.

Ever.

He flogged me on the bum, on my hips and the back of my legs. And I'm a married woman so I'll always wear long skirts and no one will ever see. He beat me like a child who stole from the cookie jar.

He begged that day and he bought me this Yves Saint Laurent bag I had always wanted and I let it slide.

That day was the beginning of my misery. My full pot of misery. That day marked the beginning of being beaten and then pacified like a petulant child, pacified with gifts, expensive gifts.

The height of it came 19 months after our wedding and I had returned late from my cousin Khadijah's wedding, he beat the hell out of me that night and I bled out our twelve week old baby unto the living room floor.

"Ma'am, the people from Zaron are here. I've let them into the main conference room on the third floor, you also have to meet with Miss Dikko for her make up choice, you have twenty minutes after your meeting with Zaron to get to her." Rahma my secretary jerks me out of the reverie I am in.

Today, after signing that deal with Zaron cosmetics, I'll be one of the biggest professional Makeup store owners in Nigeria. I pick up my papers and walk to the elevator that will take me to the third floor.

Two hours later, I walked out of the conference room and sighed in relief, I just signed up to be one of the biggest marketers of cosmetics in Northern Nigeria, I've worked so hard this past two years, my hard work paying off is a big plus.

Thirty minutes later, I'm seated on a royal blue sofa talking to Khadijah Dikko about her wedding makeup.

"Khadijah, one of the dresses you'll be wearing, the one for the dinner I mean, is simple and understated, you need bold and loud makeup to pair it with." Her sister in law, Ajìkè Dikko, looks at me in thanks, they had been talking about it before I came in.
Khadijah's contemplation takes a few minutes and she finally agrees. She turns to her sister in-law " Ya Ajike, Nasir has always known me makeup free, I don't want to start my marriage by sending the wrong message out. You know how men can be."

"Deeju, a wedding is once in a lifetime, may it be so for you Insha Allah, if Nasir loves you he'll appreciate your makeup and not think rubbish. I need to cook lunch, your niece and nephew will soon be back."  She patted Khadijah's shoulder as she walked away, more like wobbled away. She looked like seven months pregnant and her dark skin glowed, I don't think my own skin can glow this well.