Survival Of Dv

Celebration of DV survival.

Celebration of DV survival.

I always wanted Jopasdaughter to be inspire her readers, especially domestic violence victims and lone parents as I used to be one. We would love to tell your story to inspire and encourage other lone parents and domestic violence victims to leave the violence so that they can live. I did not get to be where I am overnight. It has been fraught with pain, anger, anguish and all sorts of negative emotions.

When I was with my ex, Dafe, in the beginning, he was not working but he lied that he was. I had my own place so, I did get to know that he was not working till later. I started suspecting later. I worked in customer service you see and sometimes, I worked on Saturdays. On the weeks that I would work Saturdays, I would have a day off during the week and whenever I went to his place on my days off, he would also say that he had that day off. I would wonder how come he had days off on the days that I was off but never worked the weekends that I had to work to cover those days off. And also, he claimed to be working in information technology. So, why was he having days off? I left customer service and moved to accounts receivable, aka credit control. Sometime after this, I moved in with him and that was when it became obvious that he was not working. He kept denying and denying and would turn it into a big row. This went on for a bit. We would break up and get back together. I was depressed and started cutting my wrists. I had heard that the physical pain masked the emotional pain. My life was going nowhere and fast too. Then, I had this break up that was meant to be the final. My dad got me a job a bank in Nigeria via some family friends, I gave away all my clothes and packed my stuff. Before this time, I had moved out of his place and had gotten my own place again. Dafe then put pressure on all my friends and cousins to beg me. A particular cousin actually thought that I had died when she opened her door at 6am to see a crying and broken Dafe at her door. I took him back on one condition that our parents had to do the traditional because I was unable to go home (my student visa had expired and Dafe had refused to help me apply for an indefinite stay).

Dafe’s dad had died about 20 years before and his mum who was meant to lead the process of the trad engagement mil:ked us for money before she agreed to do it. I say milked ‘us’ but what I really mean is that she mil;ked me for money because everytime she demanded money, Dafe never had the money and because I really wanted to have the trad done so that we could start trying for a baby and start our family, I basically paid Dafe’s mum to go and marry me.

I got tired of credit control. I needed to earn more money. I wanted to go into information technology, software testing, specifically as we were now starting a family. Dafe also mentioned that he was interested in software testing. But he insisted that he had to go for the training and get a job first before I went for my training. He had no money to pay for the training so, I paid for it. Around this time, my junior sister, Seun, suddenly took a turn for the worse with the cancer that she was battling. A few days before this, my sister Yemisi gave birth in Italy and I had pre-booked my flight to go to do omugwo before Seun took a turn for the worse. I had to go to Italy. So, I booked Seun’s ticket provisionally and gave Dafe my ATM card to pay for Seun’s ticket as I would be in Italy when the money hit my account. Dafe spent the money that was meant for Seun’s ticket and did not buy the ticket. When I came back to London, Seun had had a stroke and could no longer walk. I had to then work to make enough money for TWO tickets now as Seun could no longer walk unaided. Dafe started the software testing course but he could not hack it. He just could not hack it. And he kept refusing for me to go for my training and get a job. I worked in the biggest IT recruitment agency then and even begged my favorite consultant to help my man get a job. I remember the company that he was supposed to go for the interview – Direct Line. The consultant gave Dafe the previous questions that the company had asked previous job searchers that he (the consultant) had sent for that role. We prepped Dafe. Our friend, Stephen who was the person doing the training prepped him as well. Dafe went for the interview and did not get the job. What was the feedback from the company? They said that the interview went very well. But when they asked him of his career aspirations, Dafe told them that his career aspiration was to be a premiership footballer. The one question we did not prep him on. Because who would have thought eh? Who would known that he would not answer that his career aspiration in an interview for software testing was to be the go to person in software testing?

Anyway, I got pregnant with Tobi and that was the only time that I know of Dafe being responsible. He worked day and nights because by then, the economy had taken a bad turn and I had been offered a redundancy which I took. In all the 9 months of me being pregnant with Tobi, he provided for most of our expenses unlike before where I was the one who paid for everything. And he still refused for me to go and do my software testing training and get a job. He started punching me when I was pregnant with Tobi. The first time he punched me, he cried and apologised and promised that it would not happen anymore. Then he did it again and did not bother to apologise. Where before I would justify his womanising by saying at least he does not beat me, I could no longer justify anything. So, we continued for a while this way, with him punching me occasionally. Then he punched me in front of his mum. And she saw nothing wrong with him punching me. Actually, she said I deserved it. Lol.

When we finally broke up, the first thing I did was to go for my training in software testing and start job hunting. IT. WAS TOUGH. Before I got a job, we were often broke, living from hand to mouth, Tobi and I. Because I did not have experience and was just breaking into the industry, I had to go where the jobs where. I rarely saw Tobi. And I could not get good childcare after. I had a childcare who would beat Tobi when I was not around. I was housing and feeding this woman and her 2 children. I noticed that Tobi was always tense and scared whenever the woman was around. Then one day, the woman’s 2 year old child told me of how her mummy used to beat Tobi a lot when I go to work. After that, JOPA had to come from Nigeria to help me take care of Tobi but he could not stay for ever so, when he was going back, it was agreed that he would take Tobi to Nigeria with him. God bless his soul. JOPA and my sisters helped me with Tobi in Nigeria while I worked hard in England. I missed my son desperately and often cried myself to sleep and the when I slept, I would have dreams of my late grandmother telling me that she would take care of Tobi’s enemy. Then my friend told me that she had a dream that Tobi’s enemy died in Niaja. Please imagine the distress I went through in those 18 months. He was in Nigeria for 18 months, till he had to come and start primary school. In those 18 months, I made sure that I concentrated on getting a job nearer home. Tobi came back to start primary school and shortly after that, I met my husband, Lawyerman.

So, that is my shortened story of triumphing over DV and difficult lone parenting. What is yours? Every story published will get N1K recharge. So, please tell us your story of triumph over DV or lone parenting. Let’s encourage others that are still gathering strength.

This Post Has 17 Comments

  1. Thanks for sharing your story with the world. I wish more people can share stories of victory like this so that others currently going through such issues can draw strength and inspiration.

    God bless you ma’am.

  2. My Journey into Motherhood & Lone Parenting

    I became pregnant in July 2011, I was 26years and working as a contract staff in a leading Pension Firm in Nigeria. I made the decision to keep the pregnancy against all odds. My motherhood journey began ….and being a lone parent.

    At that time, I was recently transferred from Lagos to start a new unit in Abuja with my colleagues. It was not an easy feat. I stayed alone all through my pregnancy period…… as there was no marriage in the picture. I had to ‘woman up’ and take responsibility for my actions. Of course my dad did not take the news well as he had expected marriage and all, being his only daughter.

    I used to work in the office from 8am to sometimes 9pm….. I had to work; and I saved most of my earnings for the rainy day….. I will come back to my one-room apartment and cry my heart out… I stayed alone all through this period as my mom had to care for the family back home. No sex (I can recollect a good friend of mine, a guy, advising me to get a dildo as I need sex to aid easy labour), no one to rub my aching back and swollen feet…the hard floor was my massage buddy as I would stretch out on the floor to easy my back pains. Eventually, two days before I gave birth, my mom came for omugwo. God bless that woman for me. My friend told me later that my mom cried when she set eyes on me…I have always been tiny so I must have looked like a blotted cartoon character. A day before my EDD, I entered into labour while I was working in the office, my friend and colleague drove me to the hospital while my mom came to join us later. I gave birth to my Sunshine on 16th March 2012 and my life changed forever. A month after birth, my mom and I and my daughter travelled to my folks’ house in Ibadan. My mom had anticipated I would leave my daughter with her when I resume from maternity leave, but my heart did not agree.

    A week to my resumption day, my daughter and I travelled back to Abuja. I registered her in crèche at 3months when I resumed work. Each morning, I would wake up, prepare myself for the office, bath her, feed her and drop her off at the crèche in my estate then proceed to the office. I used to back her and carry her bag, my bag, and her flask and trek to the crèche to drop her off. Almost everyone knew me in my estate because people always saw me trekking to drop her off. I remember having several fights with the crèche owner because I always came back late to pick her up (7pm, 8pm, 9pm) because of work. I would wash her clothes everynight, prepare dinner and clean off before going to bed. There was a time I got home at 11pm… I cried my heart out that day because my daughter was still at the crèche. I would pay my house rent and her crèche fee from the small salary I get and struggle to feed both of us. I remember days that I would over-dilute her milk so it would last long…or days when I would have only N200 and calculate how to make sure I feed her from it. I would hang around the estate, looking for free ride so I could save the small change to buy food for us. One day, one of my neighbours called me and told me in Yoruba that ‘’Mummy Ela, ahh eti jiya’’ (Mommy Ela, you have really suffered). God blessed with wonderful and amazing friends though. I would meet up with my friends and tell them to ‘dash’ me office clothes and clothes and shoes for my daughter…(and we always managed to look good despite the condition). I was also grateful my job then had HMO services that took care of our healthcare.

    When my daughter turned 20 months, I sadly dropped her off with my mom in Ibadan. I didn’t want to but I had to, in order for me to concentrate fully at work and to also have a little breather…o boy, did I look like a scarecrow then. I wanted to also further my education and chart a career path in the Development Industry. So I registered with University of London for an online degree programme in International Development ….(even though I already have a HND in Mass Communication). My passion has always been to have a registered foundation, know the workings of the non-governmental organisations… and to also work in one. I sent money home to my parents for upkeep and channeled the rest to my school programme.

    And then kaput! In December 2014, I lost my job. It was a rude shock to me and even my supervisors…restructuring they called it. All the carefully laid out dreams and plans abruptly shattered. I almost went into depression. I had to stop my schooling due to lack of fund. I could not think or reason clearly. My daughter was attending a ‘jeleosimin’ local school in Ibadan (because of the close proximity to my parents’ house and to also reduce stress on my mother)…which I was not happy with, but I had no choice. The plan was to be self-sufficient and save some money before bringing her back to stay with me.

    I kept searching for job…got several sexual advances in exchange for job, I turned them down as that is not my style. Then I got a part-time job that paid me N30,000 per month.. I just needed to start working again. I dropped off my first salary in church. At intervals I would visit orphanages and hospice with gifts. Then I got another stop-gap job paying me 60k…though with no clear career path…I could only save for my house rent and send stipend home for my daughter’s fees and feeding. I lived from hand to mouth just so I could save. I would deprive myself of necessities…sometimes I could barely eat, I still get to collect used clothes from my wonderful friends and buy correct okrika for my daughter. All in all, I managed to share the little I had.

    Occasionally I visited my parents, and the last time I did, my daughter’s educational level was deteriorating and I knew I had to bring her to come stay with me. It gave me sleepless nights and made me worrisome as I could barely feed myself, I have no healthcare, no extra money, no ‘fantastic’ employment…. Yet I was convinced within me to bring her over. In August 2016, I took the bold step of faith and brought her back to Abuja. I put her in a mission school here. Thankfully, her dad is covering her school fees. Even at that I had to be extra frugal and prudent. I stopped making my hair so the fund for that could go into feeding, I only buy okrika clothes for us…my friends would send us money and food items to augment. In the lack, I appealed to God to help me never give up on my dream. I beseeched him for the grace to share from the little.

    I remember when I got to know about Greenlands, then Green Haven; there was a call to encourage people to support DV survivors with 5k each. I reached out to Sis Bunmi and told her I don’t have much but I have garri. Yes, garri. So I gave garri. In my journey I have learnt that nothing is too small to share. Then when I could spare cash, I did some cash-giving.

    Each day I cry to God to change my story, seeing where my friends are and what they have achieved; and where I ought to be. And God answered me. I recently got a job with great benefits with an international NGO. It is in alignment with my dream and career. I have life insurance, pension, child schooling allowance among others, and my daughter could have health care and more. I am delirious with joy!

    Please do not give up in life, or in the pursuit of your dream; or for the attainment of better days. It may tarry, but better days shall come to pass. Above all, give, give and give, no matter how small. It opens doors. God surely listens!

    1. Sis Tejiri, I thank God and rejoice with you. But you did not send us your Tel number and Network. Please send it so that we can text you the recharge card.

  3. My Story of A Dv Survivor
    Got Pregnant at 21 and it was Hell for me because he Rejected it…i had not one to Run to because People Would Never Believe i would Fail in that Aspect
    Lied to my Dad he is Not Around bt told my Mum the Truth and i stayed with her till i gave Birth
    after Delivery Baby father And His family Came,pleaded and we Are Back
    And That Mark the Beginning of my Suffering
    Barely Two Months After ChildBirth…i got d Beating of My life because he asked me to Leave his Home but i Refuse
    I Remember days i would Not Eat Anytin n later at Night i would go to d Tap Drink water n try to get some Sleep
    We Lived in a Family House and i always keep to myself so other wives wont Mock me
    I Remember the Day i was Vomiting green water (typhoid n lack of good food ) i was breastfeeding then..
    My food was sick .i called him to come home …he got Back took his Son to get him Drugs and Told Me He doesn’t Care if that typhoid Kills me (i wept)
    I remember the Day i Trek from Ijede to Itamaga with No Mission of Anywhere to Go (overthinking)

    I remember when He left for like 5 months without Dropping shishi and am Breastfeeding and i also Take care of his Younger bro his late Mum had for Another man
    I Remember The Day he Stripped me Naked in front of All his Whole Family because i told him i want to take clothes inside and he said i Must not Enter
    I Remember when i need to go beg my Friends for wears n they pay to make my hair#Ronke and Ruka

    I Remember the Day he Threw My son on d Floor Outta Anger because he wants to Beat me
    We dated for 2years,live together for a Year plus .
    The Few years Journey changed So many Things Thing about me even to my Dressing because i just suddenly Lost Interest in everything
    Our Stay Together was Hell
    Am Happy I left and i Trust in God to become a Better Person Soonest
    big Sis Olubunmi Ajai Layode thanks for this Platform…gives people like me Hope we would surely be back to Track Again

  4. Hmmmm……There will be no much need explaining what I saw my sweet mum go through in the name of domestic violence. This is because I start giving attitude almost immediately to the person involved and then I feel bittered all through the week with devilish thoughts. Can still remember one night in the barracks around ’98 ’99 or thereabout when mom came over to the house to see me who was her only male child and the first child of the family. The rapour wasn’t going on well between she and dad! As stepmum wasn’t comftible arall. Mehn!!!the outcome was near tragedy and I was helplessly sitting on d rug in the parlour,my legs crossed looking at my mum. It took the intervention of a family friend…….hmmmm………lemme stop here. The feelings I explained later is beginning to envelop me.

  5. Good morning Aunty Bunmi, I will like my identity to be hidden.I am ***** ***** [intentionally redacted], a single mother of one when I gave birth to my daughter I went back to school to finish up my study so when I was in 400level I met a guy (Dammy), we started dating he is in Lagos while I live and school in Ibadan, in my 500level I was more into him than my studies so I have carry overs (extra year). During our vacation I discovered I was pregnant and have to tell my parents, they said he should go and he came, in Oct1 2014 he came with his people ( to knock the door) so that’s how we started preparing for our marriage which should be April4 2015 but gave birth in Feb1 2015 to a pre- term( the pregnancy was 6months 4days) that was how problems began between us because the baby have to be in incubator for 2months but with the help of my parents and siblings and the little he has the baby survived, they discharge us( I and the baby) in April 20 2015. When we got home he started misbehaving by not giving a helping hand, he will not go to work with the excuse that there was nothing in his shop and that some of his customers are owning him, his cousin will come for a visit she will not do anything in the house and when my mum cook she will eat it not only that she will want us to serve her, he will talk to my mum anyhow but respect other people( I mean his friends mum) and when I can’t take it again I voiced out, when my mum was with us she used to give us money oooo, he just don’t want peace. My mum left in July and when she was leaving she adviced us that we should be united bcos our baby doesn’t like where there is no love. After April’s discharged she was admitted three times and in that three times he gave me penny two times, the third one he didn’t show up talkless of dropping penny, it was my people that helped most, none of his people showed up. In our last admission they said they had to refer my baby to LUTH or LASUTH but begged them to refer us to UCH that my people are in Ibadan and they will help me, by the way in August when my baby wasn’t feeling well I told him to give me money to take her to the hospital he said he didn’t have any money that omo kan kole so ara re di agbana fun o( that any baby can’t turn him or herself to something that will be collecting money from him), I took the baby to the hospital and bought drugs for her with the help of my mother by sending money to me in Lagos through bank and almost all the doctors in that hospital knows my baby. At times if I don’t have money I used to tax some of the doctors and nurses, sorry I didn’t tell you the health challenges of my baby she has development delay, coughing, heart issue( that she might have hole in the heart) I did ECG And ECHO, not sitting down on her own, when I got home in the evening I greeted him, o fi imu danu bcos he was the one that did the house’s chores, he didn’t allow me to rest and say I should pack all the things I put on the bed and told him I will do that later that am tired, he shall punch me that day. When he heard that they have referred us to Uch he begged that he is sorry for all the things he had done that he love us and always ready to help if I want to do anything. I left Lagos to Ibadan in November1 2015(Sunday) and in the evening my baby has crisis bcos of the stress she pass through, so I have to rush her to UCH and was admitted, my baby father didn’t show up and didn’t call but sent 9000 out of over 50,000 we spent there, in January she supposed to go for check up he didn’t respond, so in Feb when I took her for check up she was admitted, no kobo from him and he came to Ibadan with his friends to do something, we saw him and in early April he said we should come to Lagos that he is missing us, I told him that they said the baby should not travel for now and that I want to do my extra year before coming to Lagos, he said just to be with him that we will be back by 2 to 3 weeks and told him that my family say he should do something on me before coming back to his house, he flare up and say I should bring his baby back to Lagos that they should hold me, I begged him but reluctant and start saying all source of things( that I should tell my parents that I should bring his child, pe aya ole lagba a ki gba omo ole and said if I don’t bring the child between seven days, it means he’s not the father of the baby), when my parents heard of that they said I Should take the baby to him, the week I will take the baby to him the baby was always crying ( strange ones) and when I told him to stop the nonsense he was doing he said is that not how she used to cry, I shall took the baby to Lagos on April 21 2016 the baby died that same day in his house. 😢😭😭. That’s how I left him

  6. Quite a story. Very touching. Thanks for all your good work. I’m sure i’ll also be able to tell a good story soon. God bless you.

  7. Hmmm. Anty Bunmi you’re a conqueror o. God bless you for this piece, different strokes for different folks I must say….

  8. I was 22 when I met Gbenga, Gbenga was a very nice person to me and my family. The relationship lasted for several years. I could remember the night my mum called Gbenga to ask him some few questions. My mum asked him what he wanted from me and his response was I want to marry her. I meet with Gbenga’s family, we attend family party together, wore aso ebi together with even his mum in some parties. I got pregnant and we started planning for the marriage right, by Dec but suddenly we got a news frm my brother’s wife in Oman that my elder brother was ill to our greatest surprised he died 2 days after we were told abt his illness over there in Oman he died. The wedding couldn’t hold again bcuz of the death of my brother, the both families couldn’t meet cause we weren’t happy then. So we planned for registry alone which is suppose to make a year anniversary next month, at the registry only one of his fam came bcuz she need to sign for him.

    That how I started facing trauma from his family, they all turned their back at me, the house Gbenga rented was empty, I sleep on the bare floor only me in the house, Gbenga won’t come home. Mostly at night I couldn’t sleep cuz of body pains and cold entering my body.

    One night I called my mum that am tired of sleeping on the tiles with tears rolling down. My mum told me to keep enduring, but the moment a friend came visiting me, when saw my mum and told her everything by that time all my mum keep saying is that olorun ma je kin fi Oju su kun omo (God won’t make me cry over my child) I returned home, Gbenga won’t check on me, I called him for money to buy baby things but he didn’t give. I struggled to buy everything even the hospital things.

    The race continue when I was 9months gone, I pass EDD any no show, baby was down but the space was took small for my Mosadoluwa to pass through. The doc advice for CS but where is the money? On the day I was scheduled for surgery my mum was with just 5000 naira, the doctor refused but we begged him. The surgery was done but no money to pay the doc will come to our ward insult my mum and all but to the glory of God help came from different side.

    God has been faithful to me and my boy.
    Leave a Reply
    Your email address will not

  9. I was 22 when I met Gbenga, Gbenga was a very nice person to me and my family. The relationship lasted for several years. I could remember the night my mum called Gbenga to ask him some few questions. My mum asked him what he wanted from me and his respond was I want to marry her. I meet with Gbenga’s family, we attend family party together, wore aso ebi together with even his mum in some parties. I got pregnant and we started planning for the marriage right, by Dec but suddenly we got a news frm my brother’s wife in Oman that my elder brother was ill to our greatest surprised he died 2day after we were told abt his illness over there in Oman. The wedding couldn’t hold again bcuz of the death of my brother, the both families couldn’t meet cause we weren’t happy then. So we planned for registry alone which is suppose to make a year anniversary next month, at the registry only one of his fam came bcuz she need to sign for him.

    That how I started facing trauma from his family, they all turned their back at me, the house Gbenga rented was empty, I sleep on the bare floor only me in the house, Gbenga won’t come home. Mostly at night I couldn’t sleep cuz of body pains and cold entering my body.

    One night I called my mum that am tired of sleeping on the tiles with tears rolling down. My mum told me to keep enduring, but the moment a friend came visiting me, when saw my mum and told her everything by that time all my mum keep saying is that olorun ma je kin fi Oju su kun omo (God won’t make me cry over my child) I returned home, Gbenga won’t check on me, I called him for money to buy baby things but he didn’t give. I struggled to buy everything even the hospital things.

    The race continue when I was 9months gone, I pass EDD any no show, baby was down but the space was took small for my Mosadoluwa to pass through. The doc advice for CS but where is the money? On the day I was scheduled for surgery my mum was with just 5000 naira, the doctor refused but we begged him. The surgery was done but no money to pay the doc will come to our ward insult my mum and all but to the glory of God help came from different side.

    God has been faithful to me and my boy.

  10. Oh my God!!! You are the example of a strong woman. I salute your courage to start again. Even with all the odds.
    I salute you and I say Congratulations!! I hope and pray people learn from this story as well,that all hope is never lost.

  11. so touching and inspiring,i would have shared a story,but it happens to my sister not me,God Bless All Single MotherS,God Bless All DV Victims,God Bless All Lone Parents,God Bless Me,God Bless Everybody,God Is Our Strength,It Is Well

  12. This story just got me close to tears. I hope this Dafe is not my hubby’s cuz. He so much loves football, unfortunately was d best striker Nigeria never had. Everyday, i still winder what wld mk a man hit d woman he rolled on d floor to have. Let her go if u cnt keep her. Working seriously on my lil son’s temper cos that’s how it starts. Very considerate and emotional boy yet temperamental

Leave a Reply