My Mumu Button Has An Expiry Date

I starved for the first half of that month to the point that I was diagnosed with ulcer. I had to borrow money from Lolade for my ulcer treatment and when I told Adam about my condition, he said that all of this was God’s punishment for my past gluttony.

“Your parents called you Beauty but you decided to eat like one animal and scatter the name. You will suffer for it.”

His words stung more than the ulcer.

No matter how hurt I felt, how envious I was of other girls who were pampered and spoilt, it was so hard for me to leave, yet so hard for me to stay. I felt imprisoned by the bounds of all the investments I had made on Adam, chained by the ring clutched around my finger. But I knew all my sacrifices and hard work would pay off. Someday.

“I hope none of those your fat friends, Sharon and Lola, are matching for your wedding? My sisters are going to be your bridesmaids.”

My wedding. My wedding. It was never our wedding.

“Shalewa and Lolade.” I corrected, flustered by his demands. “But they are my only bridesmaids. There is no way your sisters can be my bridesmaids, I barely know them. My friends have already paid for their dresses.” The one thing I didn’t have to pay for.

“Don’t embarrass me. Getting married to you is already embarrassing enough and you want your friends to turn the altar into a den of elephants?”

I wanted to cry. He was looking for a fight. I could feel it.

“Stop with the insults, Adam! You’re being abusive.”

He scoffed. “If I were truly abusive, would I be so supportive of your career? You’re just ungrateful, like all women who think they’re oppressed.”

I gasped.

Then it dawned on me. Why I had waited all along. Why I had held onto him so tight.

Adam was a feminist. That was the problem. Not a good feminist. A manipulative feminist. No, a manipulative man.

Men—they only supported women’s rights when it was convenient to them.

“I’m pulling my money out of the hall,” I threatened. This was getting too far. All of it. “You will pay for the hall. That’s the least decent thing you can do right now.”

He threw his head back in laughter.

“It’s like you’re not ready for marriage.”

“Are you? Because last I checked, I was your sugar mummy.”

He froze, looking at me dead in the eyes, his jaw clenching.

“Give me that ring.”

My heart stopped. This again.

“Return that ring, Imade! Since you have decided to degrade me to a gigolo, there is no point in marrying you.”

Ah. I put my hands behind my back, shaking my head frantically. “Adam, please.”

“I said—” he pushed forward to get the ring off me, but I covered it with my other hand, blocking his hands from it.

We tussled like that for a moment and before I knew it, a hand flew over my face.

My eyes widened in shock, my hand pressing against my cheek. A-Adam slapped me?

There was no guilt, no empathy, just upright condescension in his eyes.

He stepped closer to take the ring, and like a jolt of lightening, I slapped him back, the back of my hand flying so hard on his face the ring scratched the under of his eye.

He held his scratched face, a streak of blood appearing on his fingers as he looked at me in disbelief.

A sudden guilt hit me and before I could apologize, he yelled, “Let’s see the foolish man that will marry you,” he stepped back and hissed, “ugly bitch.”

He walked out and slammed the door.

My world fell around me.

For the rest of the day, I cried. But worse, I was losing my mind.

This could not be happening. Adam cannot just walk out of my life like that. No! I refuse it.

For the following days, I tried to reach Adam but he did not respond to my texts and calls. And emails. I sent countless voice notes of apologies and wrote long epistles explaining my repentance of becoming a quiet, submissive, obedient wife for him. I told him not to worry about paying me back a dime in future, he should just come back to me.

I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to face the shame of not being able to keep a man. A husband.

None of his friends and family members were responsive either. As if he had warned them against me.

It was just a week left to the wedding and Adam had not gotten back to me. My parents and relatives were coming into town from Edo next week, but I hadn’t even told them that our engagement had been called off.

I tried Adam’s number again, but he was not reachable. Even my texts were not delivering.

He blocked me.