I decided I wouldn’t visit Efe because the other woman had found out about me. Efe had told her about us, so I was cautious, but he could visited me at home. I had to ask my mother when my father would be at work. My mother adored him, but she didn’t know I was his side chick. She thought had I found a potential husband.

When he was near, I taught him how to take care of his body, even though he didn’t love bathing. He even slept on the bed with scraps of cements on his body.

“I don’t want to change you, but I want us to be a power couple,” I said in a calm and loving way. “Imagine how humiliating it will be if they found me smart while you look dirty like that. Your skin color will change when you take care of your body.”

“Ohk, I’ll bathe after work, right before I get into bed,” he said while rolling his eyes.

“And now?” I pleaded.

“Let’s go bathe,” he said while dragging me to the small bathroom.

When we got to the bathroom, I helped him bathe using a scrub, and when we were done, the water was brownish with few foams. I didn’t want to tease him, so I praised him for looking smart.

“Thanks my love,” he responded while kissing both of my cheeks.

Everything felt light with Efe by my side. The kisses he gave me made me hope for better times ahead, and my room felt warmer with his presence. He took my mind to all that was possible and impossible, and the world would spin and take me to another form of happiness.

One sunny weekend, I was helping my mother with the chores. I was washing the dishes while she was preparing lunch: macaroni and tinned fish. While we were busy, I thought it was the best time for me to ask my mom if Efe could sleep over.

“Mama, Efe has no place to stay. Can he …” I said, but my mother gushed at me before I finish the sentence.

“Yes, he can stay. He’s a good man,” she said, admiring him.

When I told Efe the news, he was extremely happy. He was still staying at the house the woman he was dating before me lived. He said it was over, but it still seemed to me like they were still intimate. She had two kids with Efe, and a month earlier, I heard that the woman had moved to Jo’burg after he had continuously abused her. A friend of mine had told me, but it wasn’t my issue, so I wasn’t going to get involved.

“That man you’re dating is not good. He beat that poor girl, especially when he was drunk,” my friend warned me. I thought she was jealous because she had no stable boyfriend of her own, and only had a few one night stands with any guy she had her eye on.

I didn’t tell her he was also laying his hands on me because I believed he would change.

“If I let him go, who would date me?” I thought about it all over and again.

Once again, I was happy my mother allowed Efe to stay with us. When I went back to school, he would visit me during the weekend, then go back to my parent’s home. I tried not to anger him, and I decided to get a Nokia 3330 instead of smartphone, but one Saturday, a guy called me.

“Hello, how are you doing?” Philip asked.

“I’m OK,” I replied while looking at Efe . My voice was shaky because I knew he didn’t like men calling me while we were together.

While I was on the phone, Efe’s forehead crunches in anger, so I looked at the window then back to him. He was undressed on my bed, and I was sitting on the chair. He gave me weird stares, and I was nervous and uneasy because he had a withering look.

“Can I borrow the book for hospitality? Rather told me you have it,” Philip asked nicely.

At this point, Efe jumped out of bed and strolled towards me. I was shaking because I saw the same face he had when he beat me. His forehead was crunchy.

“Oh, yes you can come take it,” I said, then I quickly hung up the call and tried to run, but in a flash he had already grabbed me.

Once he had me in his grip, Efe squeezed my stomach and it hurt. With my belly being as big as it was, I struggled to breath. He tried to take the phone from me, but was fighting for him to let me go.

“You’re hurting me,” I screamed loudly, then I whimpered.

“Shut up! You have audacity to cheat on me in public,” he said, and his voice was savaged, wild and uncontrolled.

I shook my head, but he threw a lot of punches over my face. It was like he was in a wrestling match with a stronger offender, and he needed to throw punches quickly in order to win. My lips were broken and I had a wound on my eye. I was bleeding, and I continued to whimper, but I regained my composure. My body was in agony when he was done. I couldn’t cry louder because last time I did, the neighbors called the police.

“If you get me arrested, no man will love you the way I did,” he always warned me after beating me, and I remembered it time and time again.

I was battered and in agony when he was done. There were red, swollen patches on my chest, face, and ribs. I saw it while I was bathing. I cooked supper because I knew he would come home and apologize. It didn’t take a hour, and he was remorseful.

“I ‘m sorry,” he said sadly. His was rubbing his fingers against each other, and I saw they were red, so I dished up for him, and he gave me a thousand rands and a second hand phone. “Please forgive me,” he added.

I took the money and phone, but what surprised me was the fact that the phone had pictures of a woman I knew. He had the hots for that lady a long prior, and I had heard stories about them.

“Why are her pictures in this phone?” I asked confusedly and concerned.

“She sold it because she desperately needed money,” he said with a chunk of meat in his mouth.

I don’t know whether to believe him or not, but something was not right. I felt it in my bones. The lady, Zoryll, was never in need of money. I saw it in the way she dressed. She was a fashionista, and her clothes were elegant. She didn’t wear brands, but her clothes were like the ones worn at weddings and offices.

Zoryll was from Nigerian, and I suspected he was seeing her but didn’t want to admit it. That happened a year before I met Efe, as a friend of mine had revealed to me. She had once seen them together, but they didn’t look intimate. My friend, Connie, warned me when my relationship with Efe went public. She played hard to get, even the guys at bar gossiped about it. I smelt something fishy, and I wanted to confront her.

We were intimate the whole evening, and I even forgot about all my suspicions and pains. He was so gentle and loving, I slept on his chest peacefully. It was good to be loved. I soon erased all the horrific events in my head and the pain in body. I would heal and the scars would go, but our love would remain forever.

Tell us: What would you say to someone who stays in an abusive relationship because they believed they had no other option?