Domestic Violence: Woman writes a heartbreaking story of how her father was tortured to death by her mother [Must Read]

Domestic violence.
Photo courtesy. 

A woman who insisted to be anonymous has narrated how her father was tortured to death by her mother. 

Read below:

My story is heartbreaking, the story of my late father, he was all I got, his death took the most deepest part of me. The very minute he was laid to rest, nothing means the world again to me. Daddy knows that where ever you are, your daughter misses you and in my next world, you will always be my father. 

My father underwent a lot in the hands of my mother, though I haven't seen her since 9 years I got married. After my daddy was buried, I packed and left, seeing my mom again was the day I got married. I have forgiven her, but she will neither get close to me nor my children, not in this life .

Yes! men get abused and my father was one man who endured till he gave up. I am the first child of my parent. My father was a bank manager, he would always provide whatever we needed. Whatever my mother would ask for, he would do without asking what she needed the money for.

  She tortured him, not one minute of peace. As little as I was, I can recall her slapping my daddy on different occasions whenever he questioned her on where she went to.

My father believed in the sanity of marriage and probably didn't want a separation because of the kids(me and my siblings). My Dad's work was very demanding and from his work he will come pick us from school while my mother is at home sleeping.

It got to a time, he was almost sacked and  found a driver for us, though he was trying to save cost by coming to pick us himself. Once we get home, he will bath us, and my mother will still be on phone talking to her friends and my father will go to the kitchen and start cooking what we will eat.

If I start remembering what happened when we were small, I will put a bullet to my mothers skull. Immediately my daddy would finish cooking, my mother will be the first to go take food and eat. I came across my dad's dirty clothes one day and saw my mothers bras and pants in it.

That was when I took over the washing at 13years and relieved my father of that. My mother prefers to go out with friends than stay at home with us on weekends, so my daddy is always there to look into our homework. Even in school when parents meeting will be called, my father is the person who would come. The school barely know my mother. I grew up knowing all about womanhood from my father. He taught me all I know. My daddy so much loved my mother that whenever he would go out, he would find something to buy for her to make her happy, some she would thank her and some she wouldn't.

 The name calling were unbearable, "fool, idiot, I managed to marry your type, you are not my ideal man, I will soon leave you and marry another suitable man." She killed my Dad's pride! She ridiculed his ego. Sometimes my father would cry in his heart whenever I am around for me not to see.

After I was born, my mother stayed 5 years before my twin siblings came . My father became a ghost of himself. The torture was painful. My mother had her separate room, so she usually sleep there often with the twins. My daddy and I would sleep on his bed.

Sometimes when I wake up, I would look for him, but would see him on my mother door kneeling down , asking her to open the door for him. As small as I was, I would go kneel with him, asking him to get up and go to sleep.

 Sometimes he would kneel at the blessed sacrament altar in our house to cry because my Dad is a staunch Catholic. He would cry tirelessly. My mother hated my Dad's relations with passion, so no one near our house at all. I asked her severally what they did, she said nothing, just that they were coming to squander the wealth she suffered for. She slapped me at 14 when I asked her what wealth, that she had been a house wife, so where is the wealth? Because I knew it was only my daddy who would always provide for the family. the slap I received from my mother landed me on the floor.

My mother never for once went to the market to buy me bra, my father did all that. One day I asked my dad, how he met you her, he said it was back in the university days when a man who promised her marriage disappointed her and married her friend. He went further to say my mother was acting that way because of betrayed trust. I told him, even at that, she shouldn't transfer aggression to you who is innocent. My Daddy said they courted for 9 months before he married her.

My Mother's friends had never come to our house and behaved themselves, either they were drinking or dancing in front of us, sometimes my mother would ask us to leave when my daddy wasn't at home.

I never had a peaceful childhood. I started cooking at 14, to help my father. My grandmother came just once and visited, the cold reception my mother gave her was nothing to write home about. She served her cold food. I was the one who went to warm it for her but when I brought it back, she said she had lost appetite.

When I was 16 years, I was molested by my secondary school teacher, telling my mother about it, she said I should go talk to my father. I waited for my father to return before I complained, he took the case up till the teacher was sacked.

My two twin brothers took the footsteps of my mother, one is currently in Nigerian prison for rape and the other is surviving with his plumbing job when he eventually found out that robbing people of their property isn't safe anymore, so he learnt plumber work.

The type of disturbing names my mother used to call my Daddy isn't funny at all. I thank God that people knew he was a great man. The two storey building at my mothers place was built by my father. Yes, he loved my mother despite all he was getting in return from her. He took all she did as if it was nothing but the thorn kept piercing his heart. I rejected going to boarding school just to stay close to my father. When I was done with secondary school, I got into the university.

My father had stroke at 54 years. That was the period I vowed never to have a mother. She left my Daddy to our mercy. All she  would normally do was to ask him how he's doing, and to tell him how bad he usually smell.

For 2 years, I didn't concentrate in school till my father recovered. That period my mother's late night was something else. It got to a time, her own mother called and told her she's ashamed to call her a daughter. She transferred the aggression on me saying I was the one telling her mother what she was saying.

I thank God my father healed and I sat him down with his friend telling him to speak up, that he has tried to condone a lot, but unfortunately, he spoke up very late, almost at the point of death.

   My university education was badly affected. My brothers got into the university, joined cults and got rusticated from school. My mother fought to bribe her way to help them.

My Final year in the University was when life lost meaning to me. My father called me one day saying he was feeling as if his breathing wasn't normal.

My mother had travelled to their house to attend a wedding. After the wedding, she stayed like one whole week leaving my father, our nanny, an older lady she brought to help keep the house neat because we were all in school.

I rushed home, saw my father, he was looking healthy, but I noticed he was fighting it hard to breath. I asked the nanny to help me take him down the stairs so that I'd bring the car keys because my father taught me how to drive. When we got to the hospital, his blood pressure was was terribly high.

He was admitted. I picked up a phone to call my mother, my father said I shouldn't bother calling her. I got angry left his side, left the room to call my mother, asking her how she left home and never cared to check up on her husband, she asked whether the nanny wasn't there to take care of him? That was her question, I just hung up.

She later came after three days to the hospital, but the next day my daddy was discharged, so we got home and my exam was the next two days. My last exam before my Defence. I instructed the nanny on what to do, and shouldn't hesitate to call me once my daddy started getting worse.

Immediately I left and went back to school. The day we started exam was the day my father died. I felt it in the morning, because my flower vase fell all the way from the center of the table. My water gallon broke, for 4 years, I have used it till that day. The one that got me mad, was my exam card, I looked for it till I got tired not knowing I was wearing it inside my shirt.

My father died in the morning, when I finished writing my exam, I started calling his phone, he did not pick up. I called our nanny, she said she left our house yesterday to see her mother who called that she was sick. I called my mother and she said my dad was fine and she gave him food in the morning before leaving the house for her friend's home but will soon leave the place.

I wasn't comfortable, so I left school immediately, saying once I see my father healthy, I would rush back to school and start preparing for my next paper. When I got home, my mother wasn't back yet, my brother was down stairs smoking, I asked about Daddy, he said he should be in his room.

 I was singing and climbing the stairs, dropped my bag, went to meet him where he was lying, his eyes were closed, so I tapped him to tell him I was around, he never responded, pushed him to know if he can wake up, no way. when I started shouting, my brother came upstairs and I ran out to go called my father's brother, and they confirmed him dead.

We took him to a doctor, and he said, it's been long he died. Life lost its meaning for me, I didn't know what I was doing. I carried my Dad's head up to my lap and cried, life why me? My mother came back when we brought his corpse back from the hospital, thinking of which mortuary to take him to. When she started crying, people that knew her very well didn't give her any attention. My father died in pain and agony. Life was so unfair to him, he was tortured to death.

 It was only God who wrote my exams for me because I couldn't understand anything, anymore . After my father's burial, I packed to go live with my grandparents and I stayed there till I got married. My father was a victim of abuse and he died loving my mother, I am married and I want to love my husband till death, I have kids and I will train them responsibly. My mother has fought to see me , but all to no avail, my husband has asked me to let it go, but all I told him he would never understand because he never walked in my shoes. I was touched to go see my brother in the prison, he was so ashamed of himself, life taught him a lesson the hard way.

A lot of men are abused daily but they don't want to speak up. My father was one, millions are out there . I rest my pen here.