Bedtime Stories: inspired by real events Episode 17: A Crime of a Generation.

 Bedtime Stories: inspired by real events 

Episode 17: A Crime of a Generation. 

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I am Deejah... 

★- Not all crimes are carried out by guns or weapons. Some crimes are simply unintended, such as my marriage. I was a little girl when I got married to Mustapha. I was indeed childish and naive. I remember on my wedding night when my Aunt saw me trying to wear a Bra and I couldn't even wear it properly. She said, "Deejah if you cant wear a Bra properly, how then can you fix that rascal". That was the first time someone told me about the man was about to spend my life with.

★- Mustapha is an alcoholic and adulterer. He was a spoilt brad. He got expelled from over 16 schools according to his uncle. At the age of 18, he raped a housemaid and his father buried the story and the girl's parents were taken care of. So no one ever talks about the matter again. In 2005, he already got rejected by many schools in Kano and Kaduna. So his father decided to send him to the US. That was where he started heroin. There, he got arrested for sneaking heroin into the classroom. He was expelled and jailed. Somehow his influential father brought him out and returned him back to Nigeria.

★- Someone, a cruel person, told his parents that the only way to fix him is by getting him a wife (Most men get sensible when they marry). So they hatched the plan.  At that time, my father was an accountant in Mustapha's father's company. So he thought I was the perfect girl. They called my father and told him about their idea and my father couldn't say no. My mother didn't agree, she almost gets a divorce for rejecting the boy. I was at a boarding school, I had no idea what was going on. One afternoon, a car visited our school and my father was in the front seat. He told me to pack up we are going home. 

★- I was so stupid and happy because I hated the school. So I followed him, When we arrived home, my mother informed me about the marriage plan. But she didn't tell me about the problem. I was reluctant to accept, but when my Dad intervened, I couldn't say no. So we got married. On that very day, that was the day when my Aunt made that statement about me "Not being able to wear Bra properly...". So I was taken to his house. That night, Being newly married, I waited for his return/arrival to the house until I slept off on the couch, but the man didn't show until the next morning. 

★- Early in the morning, I heard a very strong knock on the door. I went to check, the door was even unlocked from the inside. It was Mustapha. He came in looking terrible and tattered. At first, I thought he was sick. So I quickly rushed to my room, picked my phone and called my father. "Mustapha came home very sick, please come". My Dad showed up alone. As he entered the parlor, He looked at me and said, he is not sick. He will get better. So I sat down for hours, the man was just sleeping like a dead man. He then woke up around 4 pm. He missed zuhr and asar salah. Even after he woke up, he didn't do it. I was like, who is this man?

★- As he woke up, I brought food and told him to go take shower. He went and had a shower. So I said, it is ritual for newly married to pray two rakaats together and make dua. He replied, "You think I give a shit about your dua?". I was like, "Is this man ok?". I kept quiet. He ate his food, took his keys, and left. I didn't see him again until 3 days later. I was worried, so I called home again, my mum said, "Get over it, you have a lot ahead". I said, a lot ahead? So I nodded my head and joined the TV.

★- The next day he returned home and knocked, but I was praying. So i delayed opening the door. Come on! as soon as I opened the door, he slapped me and hit me with his foot. I felt like I saw fire in my eyes. I fell down and begged for my life. He said don't make me wait again. I went to my room and cried. That evening, he came to me smelling something very stinky (I later learned it was an alcohol smell). He said, "lay down I want to enjoy my dowry". I thought he was joking. Oh Boy, the Man just jump on me and pull out my clothes. When I saw the level of violence and force, I said, "Ok ok, I will comply". He tried to penetrate me but couldn't, so he used his hands to break my hymen. Even when he realized that I was wounded, he showed no mercy. He kept inserting until I lost consciousness. 

★- That day, I woke up in the hospital. I was treated. The Doctor asked me what happened but my father said I should not speak. So i was quiet. 7 days later I returned home. To cut the story short, there was not a day that Mustapha did not rape or beat me. At times he would lock me in that house for a month. At times no food. At times the electric bill is finished and I had to stay in the dark for weeks. My parents stopped contacting me. At some point, I felt I was taken there to die. My patience was dying off day by day. All I did was make dua to Allah to save me. 

★- Things went even more critical. Mustapha would bring a woman to my house and asked me to join them in the room for a threesome. And If I rejected, it is a new type of beating and humiliation that day. At times he would bring his friends, one of them was a trans (Gay). I would cook for them while they slept with men. I never get tired of praying. I felt I was alone in this world. I had no friends to talk to, bcos I m barred from talking to them. One day we heard a fight after he broke his fast in Ramadan. He got angry and pushed me from the stares. That push left me with a broken ankle and bruises. He refused to let me go out or tell my parents. I literally lived with a broken Ankle for 40 days. My foot swelled, I stopped sleeping due to pain. 

★- Allah never sleeps, He knows my situation. One day Mustapha went out early in the morning after receiving a call. That same night, I begged him to take me to the hospital but he said "if you are good at making dua as you often say, ask your God to take you to hospital". I couldn't believe he would say that. I said Astagfirillah. He left. Around 12 noon on that same day, I was deeply in pain, I just heard a noise coming from the gate. It sounded like someone was trying to break in, then I started perceiving the smell of fire. It was indeed a fire. It was from his room from Sheesha wire. People noticed smoke coming out from the back of the house. So they came to help. They successfully broke in and instead of putting off fire, they saw me lying down, immobile, half-conscious. 

★- I was rushed to the hospital, later my Mum came too. When she saw my situation, she called the HISBAH commission. So they took over from there. They assigned two men and a police officer to guard the room. Within two days, I was to undergo a surgery. I was fixed after the surgery. After three days, the HISBAH people called a meeting between my parents, my husband, and his parents. I was asked if I want to sue him, I said no, but I want a divorce. His parents stood against it, but this time my mother stood for me. My father couldn't even speak, only tears running down from his eyes. The HISBAH commander said Hmm! This is a crime of a generation. Literally, you people sent your daughter to hell. 

★- So when everyone saw that episode, they decided to let him divorce me. So I got a divorce that evening. My wound lasted 8 months to heal. But my heart is still bleeding and suffering from those internal wounds. I was traumatized. I hardly sleep. At night I would have nightmares. Now alhamdulillah, somone by the name of Shaikh Umar sani Fagge gave me a dua. Now I feel very ok. Facebook especially this group "Motivational Moments" is keeping me happy. This is why I decided to share my story with the world. Never use someone's child as a bet. You cannot fix someone whose mother cannot fix. And it is unfair to trap someone just because they work for you and respect you. My father is a coward, don't be a coward. Your family should always be first, not career, not even money. 

There are others out there like me. I got lucky, Allah removed me from my prison. My advice to you is to pray, pray, pray, pray. Prayer is the key. 

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💡 #MotivationalMoments 

⌛ #BedtimeStories 

🗣️ #ASML 

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