I am from a strong Christian background. My parents made sure that they guided us on the path of Christ, and also, through prayers, kept us away from everything that could jeopardise their efforts. I attended a first-rate federal university in the north. I was initially admitted to study Chemistry, but changed to Pharmacy in my second year.
It was in the Chemistry department that I met my first love. But unfortunately, he was a Muslim. But he had everything that I wanted in a man. He was caring, almost to a fault, and was the most brilliant student in the department. He was already in his final year when I entered the university, while I was in his tutorial class. After his degree, he went on to the College of Medicine, while I moved on to study Pharmacy. This was when our relationship began.
I confided in an older colleague, who attended the same fellowship with me, and she said there was nothing wrong in going ahead with the relationship since I had said that he was the kind of man I ever wanted. As the days rolled by, I was more convinced that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man.
On his part, though he was also a strong Muslim, he had told me from Day 1, that he would not interfere with my religion, unless I wanted to follow him willingly. The first time I followed him home, in my third year, I was treated like a queen. When it was time for them to pray as a group, his mother said I didn’t have to join them, that I would learn in no time. His father never stopped asking questions and telling me that his son was ready for marriage because he already had a first degree and was working even as a medical student.
When we got back to school, I couldn’t but recount my experience to my older friend. I wondered why my parents would not accept our relationship on the basis of religion if his strong Muslim parents accepted me with open arms. I had not informed anyone, not even my immediate younger sister, who was the closest to me, but I knew that I would infuriate my father, in particular, if I confronted him with such. My friend actually told me that it might not be easy convincing my parents like he convinced his. She said, for them, they knew I could not change their son’s religion, and were hoping that I might change to their religion once I was certain I was ready to. She said it was easier for women to follow their husbands to keep their homes, but not vice versa.
I summoned courage, when I was about graduating, to tell my parents about my relationship. By this time, we were almost inseparable. He helped me a lot in my course that I also became a superstar. He was someone that always wanted to associate with success, and made sure that I was the best in my set. My parents got periodic assessments and were happy. So, at the point of telling them that I was in a very strong relationship with a Muslim, I made up my mind to also let them know that he had been the secret behind my success all the while. Luckily for me, my sister, who had come to like my man, was all for the relationship, and she promised to also help convince my parents.
But we were only fooling ourselves. The day I told my parents, after my graduation, was the saddest day of my life. My father told me to consider myself out of the family if I ever decided to follow my decision through. He noted that as long as he lived, he would not have any of his daughters marry a Muslim, no matter how liberal he was. I cried and cried, but after all efforts – begging friends and family members to help pacify my father – I resigned to fate.
My fiance was so shattered that I felt I was going to kill somebody. However, to cut this painful story short, we parted ways after a long battle. His parents also made him understand that there was no way he could marry me if my parents would not give their blessings. I remember the last day I went to their house. Tears flowed freely as his mother prayed for me. I ran out of the house without turning back to catch the last glimpse of my love.
For three years, I stayed without a man in my life, even when I started to work, and my mother became worried that time was running out. She said I had to forget the past and move on with my life, especially when we heard the news that my Ex was planning to settle down.
Then I met my childhood friend again after so many years.
His parents and mine were very good friends when we were growing up, but we lost contact when he went abroad for High School. His father was a pastor in our church, but we were only kids at the time. We actually met at a workshop. He walked up to me during lunch and said he had been looking at me since I arrived, but that when I mentioned my name when we were introducing ourselves, he realized I was his long lost childhood friend.
I later got to know that he was not married yet, while I told him my own story as well. We became very close after that and once he started visiting the house, my mother would not let me rest. It was like a family reunion. I knew inside me that the love I felt for him was nothing compared to what I felt for my Ex, but I decided to make the relationship work, especially since he appeared to be head over heels in love.
However, the fact that we were age mates bothered me at first. At the time we met again, his father had passed on, but his mother was still alive, though not in Nigeria. She was, and is still in the Netherlands, where they all relocated.
Our wedding was just six months after we met again, but it was like we had been dating for 10 years. I got pregnant immediately we got married, and started falling ill. This was when my husband began to release his true colour, in parts…
To be continued…
