The next morning I went over to the baby daddy’s house. I knocked at the door and there was no answer. I kept on knocking and knocking then I started banging the door. That, produced an answer.

I demanded that he open the door. He opened the door and tried to push me backwards. I pushed him back to his room. He was a light weight after all.

When I got inside the room, there was a woman in his bed. No, it was not Zipper-face, but it was a different woman.

It turned out that while I was busy beating up Zipper-face the previous night, he was inside the hostelry with this woman. I was speechless and overwhelmed with shock. I just stood there for a minute without saying anything.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked when I had finally assembled my speech.

I just didn’t recognize the man he was. How could he? The realization that I’d been sleeping with a womanizer was just too much to bear. I just didn’t know this man. Whoever he was, he was not the same man I had met during the summer holidays those years ago.

We started arguing and then ended up arguing with the woman as well. The argument turned into a fight. He punched me. I was shocked and dizzy for a little bit. I then snapped back and I punched him back. Before I knew it, it was all chaotic – and the two love birds ganged up on me.

I was on the floor. The woman was strangling me and the brother was holding me down and applying pressure on my pressure points; wrists and knees. I couldn’t move. I could hardly breathe but I managed to utter some words. I promised them that when I got loose, I would beat the living shit out of both of them.

After many attempts I managed to break free. I used everything within my reach to attack them. Glasses and anything else breakable, I used. Earlier, when I arrived in his room, I had noticed that there were two sealed 750 ml bottles of Hunters Dry, on both sides of the bed. So as they were coming towards me, I reached for the sealed Hunters Dry and went towards them. I lost balance and fell on the floor and slipped.

I managed to quickly reach the bottle. I broke it and went towards them, ready to stab someone. The brother managed to grab me and ordered his woman to run for dear life. She got away and after she got away, he threw me to the floor and locked the door.

I tried to get up and he kicked me back to the floor. I attempted several times to get up but he kept on kicking and punching.

Eventually I managed to get up and I fought back.

I saw the bottle that had slipped earlier and I quickly grabbed it. I attempted to stab him but I missed him slightly on his left hand. The broken bottle slipped again and he then over powered me and kicked the shit out of my ass again.

By this time I was on the floor and he kicked me repeatedly.

I did the unthinkable; I played dead thinking that he would stop. He didn’t stop. Instead the kicking intensified. I attempted to get up and tried to fight back. I couldn’t, I was weak and just defenseless.

I was now begging him to stop and by this time I was bloody. I managed to get up and leaned on the bed because I could hardly move. I sat on the bed and told him I’m done fighting, he’s won. It was like I had a switch of character. I was the sane Nozipho again and said I was done fighting.

He ditched me on the spot. I left and on my way home I was crying like a little girl. I didn’t care who was looking at me.

When I got home my baby was playing on her walking ring. She was so full of life and jumped up and down when she saw her mommy. My mum turned around and looked at me and screamed. I was literally a bloody mess.

I told my mummy everything and she wanted us to go and lay assault charges but I told her I didn’t have the strength for any of that. I pleaded with her not to say anything to my father. I knew my father would kill Muzi in broad daylight.

Strange that I still protected him even after everything that had happened.

I started to play around with the idea of suicide. The pain I was feeling was indescribable. I reckoned that death was much better than the pain I was feeling at the time. I thought it would be better if my Zizi and I were no more.

***

Let’s chat: Why do you think people stay in abusive relationships? Would you ever stay?