Sarah's Perspective. Seven Years Ago,Some women picked the wrong men out of many. I have heard women complain of a whoring husband, but I always counted myself an exception. My husband, can be best described as every woman’s dream. He is handsome looking – well-built, intelligent and smart. Besides, he is a man of his words. Furthermore, he attached so much love and interest to his family because he was out to ensure that he distinguished himself from his father. He grew up with a father who was a polygamist and an irresponsible one, who was also known as a wife beater with many legitimate and illegitimate concubines. Fortunately, none of my husband's siblings took after their father, except the step siblings. When he asked for my hand in marriage, my mother was afraid, judging from his background. But today, he had proved everyone wrong by living beyond their expectations.As a policy, he hardly kept late night except of recent, and I was surprised at his sudden change of attitude.

'Do I deserve to be sacked? Do my friends and colleagues agree with the management that I deserved what I got?'He asked himself.Evans had been in that organization for twenty-nine years and had contributed immensely to its growth and development. I remembered the days of our courtship when he always failed to keep his appointment with me because of his work. My husband was a thorough person who hardly jokes about anything he did, and he also applied the same tenacity with his love and family life.Then, he walked back to the living room and sat before the television again. Within two weeks, he had experienced unimaginable things. Losing his job and hitting his wife. Then, I wondered what could be going on in his mind. These were the character traits that made him to dislike his father. 'Was he gradually taking after his father?'I thought as I watched him from the kitchen. Now, the children and I were having a good time without him. Though, I was feeling the heat because I had mi

For that reason, our relations refused to accompany him to the girl's parents for proper marriage, as required by the native law and custom. Such legalization of marriage would have accorded him the ownership of the children.On the other hand, the girl's parents were not willing to welcome him either. The truth about the matter was that the parents of Chika, the mistress, had given her out in marriage to Mr. Eric Adibe, the son of Mr. Adibe her father’s bosom friend who was based in the United States of America. As at the time she moved into my father's house, it had been six years since Eric left. No one had neither seen him nor heard from him, and there were speculations that he had married a white lady, or he was dead. To cap it up, Chika had been an unhappy and a lonely lady. No man was willing to marry her, even though it was no secret that her husband, was nowhere to be found. Despite her beauty and age, she was very much willing to marry anyone who was willing to take her

Mama shouted as she attempted to ask many questions at the same time. Now, we just realized that she was back, and were startled by her voice, so we rushed to the scene. Meanwhile, Evans and I were thinking of how to salvage the situation, but we were only trying to turn Mama into a killer with our sluggishness in acknowledging the degree of our mistakes.Now, Mama, who was too nervous and angry, began to yell abuses at him while Beck abused her too. In that game, one cannot compare Mama with Mr. Beck Aaron when it comes to the use of abusive and vulgar languages. He had been a troublemaker right from his mother’s womb. He talked and fought like a silly woman, and he became worst as he got older and dejected.“Are you the only one who is entitled to visit her? Is she not my daughter too? Did you buy her from the market?” Mr. Aaron asked simultaneously, not minding how she would feel. Now, he got off the bed and stood in a manner that said. 'If Mama felt like fighting him, he was u

While in the kitchen, she lit the gas cooker and got the frying pan, emptied the three liters of vegetable oil into it and allowed it to heat. While she watched the oil heat up, she muttered.'I have endured enough, Mr. Beck Aaron, it is time for you to endure too.’When the vegetable oil was hot to her satisfaction, she carried it gently with a pad and headed towards the guest room. Then, she pushed the door gently with her elbow and tiptoed into the room. Although, the lights were off, but she could see her prey on the bed with the rays of the light from the security lights outside. Then, she walked on. For the first time, she hated the size of the room because she needed to take a good number of steps before she could get to the bed. Now, the heat from the oil was not helping matters, either. She was worried that the oil may get cold, or the heat reduced, thereby not allowing her to achieve her aim. Meanwhile, Beck had stopped snoring. Mama also stopped suddenly and observed her