Aisle To Freedom

I think my ability to dust several strokes of cane is what led me here.

Pardon my manners, my name is Maya Roberts and this is my story.

I really cannot remember what my mum was like. All I remember is her super infectious smile that could melt a frozen heart. She passed shortly before my third birthday and that was when my life took a horrible turn. Barely a year after my mum’s demise, my dad married his mistress, who by the way had always been in the picture. Rumor even had it that she killed my mum and judging by the way she treated me, it seemed highly probable. She beat me till my body grew numb to pain.

My new life felt like I was living in hell. By the time I was seven, there was practically no house chore I could not do. I would wake up as early as 4am to clean the house and do some light cooking. By 5:30, I’d clean the car with the aid of my very tall footstool; get dressed for school and then leave the house by 7am so I could make it to school before 8am. Despite the distance, I had to trek; little wonder I slept almost all through the first three periods throughout primary school. I had to finish my assignments before going home every day because if I did not, I would not have any time to do it once I got home. Do not even ask about my dad, it was like I was dead to him. Some of my friends said my step mother would stop being cranky once she had kids of her own so I longed and prayed for a younger one but my dad ruined the only chance I got at it. She was five months gone when they had one of their usual fights, this time; he battered her like she meant nothing to him and the rest is history.

By the age of sixteen, I gained admission into the university and I finally had my freedom or so I thought. I was on my way back to the hostel after class one evening when this cocky looking finalist walked up to me. Not-so-tall eye candy who had a smile just like my mum’s. He introduced himself as Tony Williams, asked if I’d like to attend his club’s rave party that weekend and I politely turned him down. Fast forward to about two weeks, we bumped into each other again and became acquaintances. By the end of my second year, Tony was observing his mandatory youth service (NYSC) and we had become really good friends and that was when he asked me out. That day, his cocky self took me on a date but instead of cutting to the chase, he kept going on and on about how girls swoon over him and how impossible it was for any lady to turn big Tony down. Weird as it sounds, I found his cockiness endearing. I remember telling him point blank “I do not like short guys, and you’re not exactly Michael Jordan; so no, I won’t join your bandwagon of swooning chics” the look on his face as his jaw dropped was priceless!

We started dating shortly after and it wasn’t long before I realized Tony was passive aggressive and would never take a “no” for an answer. I always let it slide because I had come to realize that no one is perfect. I finished from school and Tony had me placed in his father’s company for my NYSC. By this time, my step mum had divorced my dad who in turn made sure to take out all his frustrations on me so when Tony suggested I moved in with him, I did not hesitate.

The first six months were blissful. I never knew one could be so happy. Except for the fact that he occasionally got mad at me and broke stuff, Tony treated me like a queen. We basically did everything together. His parents adored me. I was literally in paradise. It was the perfect life …to be continued