“Adedolapo, how are you today?” She asked.

It has been two weeks since I started seeing her after the doctor diagnosed me with severe depression.

"I am fine. Thank you." I responded grimly.

“You don’t look fine to me. Is there anything on your mind that you would like to share? I am here for you.”

Perhaps it was the soothing tone that conveyed that she cared, or perhaps her eyes, which were pure as the sea, deep and calm, made me subconsciously feel that I could be vulnerable with her knowing that she would understand.

As a result, for the very first time in my life, I opened up and shared my thoughts and feelings with a stranger.

“On Saturday, at 10 a.m., my children hadn’t eaten anything because I couldn’t get out of bed.” I choked up as I relived the events of that day.

She gently handed me a tissue and said, “It is okay to cry. Would you like us to take a deep breath together?”

“I am fine. Let's just continue,” I responded.

“Alright. Go ahead. I am here.” She gently prodded.

“Don’t disturb Mummy; she is sick.” I looked at my son quietly as he hushed his sister while taking her out to play. They must be hungry, but they weren’t asking me for food. Adedolapo, what kind of mother are you? What have I done to deserve these little angels? They deserve more than a mother like me. I tried so hard to hide my tears, but they still heard the faint gasps that escaped.

“What is wrong, mummy?” My son hurried back to my side with his sister in tow. My heart ached as I stared at my princess as she climbed into bed and wiped away the tears from my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” she whispered softly, kissing my cheeks.

“I won’t cry anymore, princess.” I feigned a smile for her; she had seen me cry more than laugh. They have both had it tough in the past few weeks. At eight years old, my son has suddenly become an adult, having to care for himself and his three-year-old sister while I struggle with meal preparation and other household chores for some weeks now in the house.

My family wasn’t always like this; we were happy (at least the first three weeks of my marriage were like being in paradise). While things weren't perfect from the start, it really wasn't all bad, as there were some good days. Everything went all sour three months ago when the elders visited me and asked, “Did you see that young woman who collected money with you as iyawo-ile some month ago?”

“Who?” I asked as I had no idea who they were inquiring about. Do you know how many wives you people have in this family? Is it expected of me to know everyone after your father flaunted his wealth by marrying several women all over? You folks can find your sibling almost everywhere.

"Adedolapo, you should not be the only one enjoying your husband," one of the elders stated.

"It is unfair that she has not stayed with your husband when you both gave birth to his kids."

"Why should she be the one with no title when she is one of our own?” They were all echoing each other. 

Fortunately, one of them, who was close in age to my husband and a frequent visitor to my house, saved the day. The meeting was because my husband had a woman who was from his hometown whose child was older than my son.

"I never told her not to move in," I responded cautiously, as I was too astonished, almost overwhelmed, to fully grasp what they were saying.

I heard one of them ask, “What did I tell you? I knew she would not disobey us; she is a good girl.” Good girl, my foot.

“Since you have accepted her, she and her children will be living with you and your husband.” Just like a judge, they announced their judgement and sentenced my home.

“I honestly do not know how they came up with that, as I had no idea he was in another relationship when we married. What do they mean by enjoyment? Do I not deserve to enjoy my marriage? What unfairness? If there is talk about unfair treatment, it should come from me, not them. Where were they when he opted for a low-key wedding? Being considerate, I agreed with him and convinced my mother that it didn't matter as long as we got married, despite her reprimand. Unbeknownst to me, it wasn't that he didn't want a societal wedding, which was unexpected for someone of his calibre, but rather that he was still not over being dumped at the altar by his first love. My mother consented, thinking we were trying to save money. Moreover, my sister just had a grand church wedding, and as a single mom and widow, it would significantly impact her finances if she had to host two expensive weddings in one year. My older brother was also planning to get married soon, and as the favourite child and her pride, our mother would spare no expense for his wedding. Considering that I was just lucky to have found a wonderful man with a master's degree who was willing to marry me despite being the least among my siblings, I didn't think it was that much of a sacrifice to have a low-key ceremony after all.”

"Do you think I lack self-confidence?" I questioned, and I didn’t wait for her to respond as I continued to talk.

“I do. Not that I thought I wasn't pretty or brilliant enough, but when you grow up being compared with your fashionista mother, a smart and sharp-mouthed elder sister, a brilliant big brother, a naughty but brilliant younger brother, and an I-can-make-it-on-my-own-without-you-mum kind of brother, it takes a toll on your self-esteem, making you think you are not as good as them. So, being the quiet, peace-loving, but intelligent person with just a school leaving certificate, you naturally become the wallflower and can only stay seen by being a good daughter and sister. I thought God heard my prayer for once and sent him to me. Ayinde was my prince charming; he was any woman's dream. Not only was he handsome but he was also a master's holder with a lucrative job at a time when only a few were graduates. Even my smart sister married a graduate, and here I got lucky. I felt like I had hit the jackpot, knowing I wasn't good enough for such a wonderful man. Unbeknownst to me, though, not all that glitters is gold. Ayinde was dealing with alcohol and tobacco addiction. There were days neighbours would walk my husband in because he was either too drunk to walk or found in a gutter. There were days of bruises from beating after being drunk and from trying to carry a man twice my weight all alone, which neither my family nor his were aware of.”

“How do I tell my mother, a well-known disciplinarian, that I am not happily married just some years after the wedding when I can still hear her voice in my head saying, "The moment you leave my house for your husband's, you are not coming back here to stay; a woman's place is with her husband?" How can I tell my sister, whom I know how nice her husband treats her, that I feel miserable in my marriage? She will probably say, "Did I not tell you?" She was not fond of my spouse and never attempted to hide it. She felt he was far older than I was and urged me to wait for Segun, my agemate, with whom I had been friends for a long time but had not proposed.”

"Who is the home wrecker? She isn't married to my husband, but her first child is a few months older than mine. Why didn't she get married to another man after hearing that he got married? Could this be another reason why he insisted on having a low-key marriage? Who do I even ask or talk to about this? Who is truly at fault here? Should I blame my husband, who may have played it safe by dating multiple women after he was once dumped at the altar before finally marrying me? Or on the woman who knew that he was already taken but still held onto him anyway? I couldn’t help but ask myself these questions over these past weeks; sadly, no one heard me or offered any answers."

"It's been three months since their sentence, and Ayinde hasn't sat me down to talk about us, let alone ask for forgiveness. He acts as if nothing happened, and I can't bring myself to ask him. Although she hasn't moved into the house, I am staying with him; I know he's already gotten her an apartment and has been spending time with them. For the past two weeks, I've been unsure about my feelings. Even while I lay in bed sick on Saturday, I was hoping he would come and stay with me."

“Doesn't it sound foolish? Yet I believe that if I persevere, he will return to me. He must have loved me to have chosen to settle down with me over all of his other ladies, right? If I am good and well-behaved, he will return to me, right? Don’t answer; you probably think that I am stupid, too. I can still remember the doctor's contemptuous attitude and the smirk when I told her that part of me was delighted that I was sick because I hope it brings him back and keeps him with us. I am so desperately holding on to this love."

For the very first time I felt heard as she gazed into my eyes with a clear glance and said, "Adedolapo, I don't think it's silly to want love. You're only human, and at the end of the day, we all want love.”