The Broken Woman: Trapped By Blossom Obi| @BlossomObi3


A ready-made man was not an option or whatever an all established man was called. I clamored for someone whom building wealth and establishments together was definite. I told myself as I scrolled through pictures of Deji and I, on series of outings and memories we shared. The hard truth hitting me on the face, “you can’t marry him” a familiar voice inside of me that was often shoved aside spoke so faintly as if it would never speak again.

Deji and I dated for seven years, I had loved him and hoped that the love was strong enough to change him, at least that was what I thought because that was what it seemed like at first when we got together. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome with hair that coiled at its base. I used to think they were chemically influenced by one product or the other but as time passed I discovered they were natural.


Little did I know that was all an act but I loved him regardless and part of me knew my forever was not with him. You must be thinking he’s a bad person on the contrary, he’s one of the nicest person I’ve ever met, he is just so in love with the nightlife he doesn’t know where to draw the line. You and I know that nightlife comes with a whole lot of things, things I wasn’t ready and willing to go through forever.

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It wasn’t long Peter and I met at the cinema after the split with Deji. He was the opposite of Deji with an average height of bronzed skin tone with enough body mass; one would picture him to be older than his age. We became friends very fast as most of our interests aligned. He told me about his dreams, goals, plans and targets and that was where I was hooked. I would listen and offer advice like the good friend that I am in the steps and stages when my opinions were sought after.

“you remembered I screamed in excitement” hugging him fiercely as he tried to wriggle out of the embrace to show case a beautiful necklace enclosed in a sophisticated jewelry box. Things happened so fast that we were already a year gone romantically. “I wouldn’t forget even if my life depended on it” Peter finished, watching me as I examined the necklace. “So” he asked opening his eyes wide, “I love it, and more importantly, I love you”, I responded; I know he must have felt the glittering of my diamond eyes. He must have seen the shining love.

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On track with our plans and goals affording anything we needed, we decided to get married, it was beautiful and wonderful bearing fruits named Timmy and Tolu. Timmy was not up to a year old when Peter started acting strange, I thought it was work related but I was wrong.


He preferred staying out late to spending time with the kids and I. I was disturbed and hurt a lot but I had the kids and work to distract me sometimes. Five years had gone and peter’s strange behavior wasn’t strange anymore but I was tired because the union was killing me slowly and I knew it because my mind would not just function normal anymore.

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Most times, we are caught in between our faith, culture and societal indoctrination that it is the basis for our functionality which isn’t such a bad thing but can sometimes appear to be imprisoning.

We are caught in between the battle line of staying and fighting and leaving because we feel we can’t handle it or pretend to be fine anymore. Hence, we are not just by choices of your own, but also by concepts we were birthed into.

So our mind yearns for more, new knowledge, a way out, unfolding of mysteries because deep down in our hearts we believe that there’s more so it yearns desperately for so much more. Just like your heart, you were made for more and you are more.


Blossom Obi writes from Owerri, Imo State. For comments and responses, reach her via or Twitter/Instagram: @BlossomObi3


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