Who will wipe my tears is a short story of a woman who is torn between dealing with domestic violence and her love for the man who carries out the crime. It is an expression of the trials some victims of domestic violence have to face.
It was evening before my blood shot eyes flew open, I was temporarily blank until flashes of my ordeal that morning came rushing back like an overflowing stream. All I thought of was the feeling of his rough hands against my skin, they felt cold and clammy, laden with tales of his experiences.My thighs screamed with pain for all the battering they had to endure. My back creaked only slightly. I felt the warm liquid I perceived as blood trickling down my chin from a blow to my left eye, my eye would probably turn purple by morning's light, and I'd have to make up stories about running into a pole at the back of my house during the teacher's meeting. I heard the cock, the only one our village still had crow and I knew the sun had set already...I struggled to my feet and sighed a little. The floor was littered with dirt that must have been harshly thrown out of the trashcan when he kicked it...I closed my eyes and images of his closed fist ramming into my face after I told him the food wasn't ready yet stole the solace I found in the darkness. Blood streaks decorated the floor and the wall like they were made for some sort of artwork taken out of a museum. I sighed again for the third time that evening and started to clean up as he would get mad if he comes back and finds it in this state of disarray.
I cleaned up quickly amidst pains and made his food ready by the fire. As the fire burned I watched the yellow flames eat up the wood and leave black soot behind popularly known as charcoal.
At that moment I felt like the wood, weak and vulnerable with Kola as my fire eating me up and leaving me a mess of myself.
But the beat in my heart when he smiles which is rare had never stopped. I still loved him, loved him too much not to walk awayeven when he beats me. I was smitten for all I care. Cupid made some sort of special arrow for me I guess.
The night got darker and slowly the fire died out and I knew if I kept staying by Kola's side I'll die out too.
Maybe I'm stupid, but I'll die by his side even if it has to be by his hands.
Nweke Ozioma Ruth is a medical student and a young woman who is passionate about the fight against gender based violence.
Not only is she a writer, she also volunteers with organizations and initiatives promoting sexual and reproductive health and right, comprehensive sexual education and Gender based violence advocacy.
For example, she is a member of Standing Committee on Sexual reproductive Health, HIV/AIDS and Gender Based violence [SCORA]; an organization under Nigerian Medical Students Association which is aimed at providing awareness on issues concerning sexual reproductive health and HIV/AIDS. She is also a member of Live Mother and Child Initiative which is aimed at providing sexual and reproductive health and right related services to women in rural areas of eastern Nigeria.