MY NAME IS HAFIZA KASHIM. I AM 34 YEARS OLD AND I WOULD LIKE
TO SHARE MY DIVORCE DIARIES WITH YOU
I met my husband IB
in 2003 at an aunts wedding. We didn’t really date because we married about 4
months later after meeting. We sort of just learnt information about each other
as we prepared for our wedding. Our parents literally took over everything
before we even had time to get used to each other. I am the eldest child. My
parents had only 2 of us, both girls. To be frank, I wish everyone will marry
like we did. Our parents endorsed who we married and usually that man was a top
notch gentleman.
As time went on I started to realize that my husband wasn’t
a good husband, he liked to have girlfriends outside. He was constantly changing women. Every month
there was a new babe. I don’t know if he deliberately left clues for me to
catch him or he was just careless but I always knew about his silly
indiscretions. At first these women in his life made me worry, but with time I
just started to view it as a hobby that my husband enjoyed. I stopped fighting
him because of women. And my peace of mind was paramount to me. I settled down
and enjoyed my marriage. We had 4 children
together.
My younger sister, Hafsat lost her husband in 2011 and my
parents were on their way to hers when they had a fatal accident my parents
died instantly. It was such a terrible day for me Poor hafsat was beside her
after losing her husband barely 2 years after marriage. We were broken and
devastated my dear husband was on hand to console me and hafsat. He made me
love him so much more during this period. He was always available for me.
Whatever I needed he went the extra mile When Hafsat finished her Idda he
sponsored us to the holy land for umrah.. He insisted that Umrah was the best
therapy for bereaved people like us, and he was right. I returned from Umrah a
refreshed and new woman, so also hafsat.
Shortly after this, hafsat moved into our parents’ home. I
was really worried about her living in the house; with all the memories and
all, she was really going through it. Mood swings and nightmares. I felt
helpless. I wanted to ask her to come and stay with my family but my house was
a bit cramped. So I discarded the idea Until IB told me that he bought us a new
house. An Eight bedroom house, with BQ
my joy knew no bounds, because finally my sister would have a place in
my home. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy again I wanted nothing
more than for her to be free. I wanted her to be happy again.
So a few weeks after we moved in, I brought my sister into
my home, and I put up our parents’ house for sale. I told her this was a new
beginning… I promised her I would make sure there was no sadness or nightmares.
And because IB supported and insisted on the idea, she fit right in with the
kids excited to have anty hafsat at home.
My sister was becoming herself once again. She was gradually coming out
of her shell I was fulfilled. Until, she started telling me about she noticed
about IB like his womanizing ways. She
came to me and said my husband brought a girl into our bedroom and she wanted
me to do something about it. I dismissed it and just told her not to worry
about the flavor of the month. I tried
to explain to her that IB was a good husband, a great father but also a chronic
womanizer. I would not upset the peace in my home because of some random chick
that happened to be flavor of the month.
This went on for some time between Hafsat and I. she would come with a
report of IB and his shenanigans and urge me to confront him and I would
explain to her that I had learnt to live with his hobby/habit. Until one day….
A cousin of ours was getting married and I was rushing to attend the Kamu
Night, Hafsat said she wasn’t feeling
too well and declined to go. Because I was in a hurry I forgot my phone and the
Kamu Money that was with me Halfway to the venue I realized this and asked the
driver to turn around I dashed to the bedroom upstairs and I found my husband and
my own sister half naked and all over each other. I couldn’t believe it. I
thought I was dreaming. I literally rubbed my eyes to make sure I was seeing
what I was seeing. They must have been really enjoying themselves because I
reckon I must have stood there for almost 2 full minutes before Hafsat pushed
him off her and ran into the bathroom. I
wish I could tell you that I remember what he said or what he did. All I know
is that I had blood on my hands and that I was screaming. I punched and slapped
him till he was on his knees. The kids
had woken up because of my screaming. They walked in to see their father
clutching bed sheet. Begging me. I don’t know how I got the strength to break
down the bathroom door and yank my sister. I beat her. I beat her. I really
beat her. I looked into her eyes and I did not see my sister. I saw the devil.
And at that moment my sole mission in life was to beat that devil out of my
sister. “wallahi it’s the devil adda. Useni ki yi haquri. Please forgive me.
Today was the first time I swear” After
that night, I sent her a text message telling her to leave. I didn’t care where
she was going I was a little surprised at myself at how cold I became towards
my only sister. As for IB, he would write me 3 divorces and leave the house for
me and my children. There would be no room for negotiation. Either that or I
threatened to go to court. I also threatened to tell the children. My threats worked. We got divorced and it’s
been a year. He sends for the kids and sometimes visits I still have fantasies
of killing him. As for my sister, I have no words. There’s a numb dull ache in
my heart every time I think about her and the incident. Maybe they still
continued their affair sef. How can someone who is your flesh and blood hurt
you so bad? This world is a horrible place So what have I learnt? Don’t
tolerate people too much, because what you refuse to address and tolerate will
eventually become intolerable I have learnt to stop sweeping things under the
carpet because I could trip and fall over. Thank you.
Add 08066680993 on whatsapp fr latest Update on next episode
See you Next week Insha Allah, A Special Thanks To Jaruma Magazine Editor
Fadimatu Zahra.
Fadimatu Zahra.
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