Save me before my police husband kills me, wife cries out in Lagos

It was gathered that life, for 28-year-old Folashade Ayetan, a mother of four, has not been a bed of roses.
Without respite, her life has been garnished daily with psychological, emotional and physical torture.
Folashade’s troubles began when she became pregnant 11 years ago at the age of 17, while in Jss 3. Naïvely, she thought that getting married to a man who promised her heaven on earth would provide an escape route or, at least, give her succour. Little did she know that her
marriage to a police officer currently serving at Onireke Divisional Police Station, in Ojo, Lagos, would make her sad.
Looking haggard with her twins, Taiwo and Taiye, Shade recounts her ordeal.
“I have come to the media because this is the only option. I want Nigerians who will read my story to come to my rescue, save me from the cruel hands of my husband. I live every minute of my life in fear. No doubt, I have made some silly mistakes but, I t think I have suffered so much in silence and now, I am speaking out because I need help urgently.
I was born in 1987. My life is a very complicated one. I got pregnant when I was in JSS 3 and had a baby girl and could not continue schooling. Later, I learnt how to sew clothes.
My problem started after my father chased me out of his house. I began to sleep in a bakery in the area. It was during this period that I met my husband Michael, a police officer and he promised to help me out. That was when I began to date him before I started living with him. My daddy chased me out of the house after he married his last wife, Iya Liade. she manipulated my father till he chased my mother out of the house.
“We have been together for about five years now but, we dated for a year before I became pregnant for our first child. He didn’t pay my dowry. When he came to see my parents, there was serious disagreement because when I was three months pregnant, he took me to his village to live with his family in a camp at Akure.
Initially, he told my parents that we were going to see his parents in Akure. But he kept me there for almost two years. While I was living with his parents in Ijoka road camp, his mother taught me how to cook their native food because I am Yoruba and he is Calabar. He stopped me from wearing trousers and make-up which I obeyed to make him happy.
Any time we had misunderstanding, he would beat the hell out of me. Even when I was pregnant, the beating continued unabated. He refused to give me money to register in the hospital for ante-natal.
I carried the pregnancy till I delivered. It was in his mother’s room that I delivered. It was God that saved me because after giving birth, they took the baby boy, Godwin, who is now 4 years old, went outside for celebration but abandoned me even while the placenta wasn’t out. It was his father that raised alarm and rescued me.
Three weeks after delivery, he beat me up mercilessly because I bathed my baby when his mother went to a village market. Usually when she goes to the village market, she spends three days before returning, which was why I decided to bath him because Mama was not around. Two days later, I fell ill. I was sick for about ten days without medical care.
It got to a point when I was throwing up and also cleaning my vomit. When I recovered, I went to appeal to the Bale in the community where we lived to plead with my husband to take me back to my family in Lagos.
All these while, I didn’t know my family, especially my mother, had been calling and asking him to bring me back but he would tell them that he would give me the phone to speak with them which he never did. When I came back to Lagos, I found out that my family members made efforts to reach out to me but my husband prevented them because I didn’t have a phone.
When the trouble became unbearable, I told them that I wanted to go back to my family with my baby, they refused. They took my seven weeks old baby and chased me out. I practically begged for transport fare from people which I used to get to my village in Owo. My maternal uncle took me to the hospital. I was admitted in three different hospitals. I was at Oke-Mopo hospital before I was moved to Oke-oja hospital at Iyere-Owo. Later, I was transferred to Oke-Mopo-Iyere Medical Centre.
When I was discharged from the hospital, my uncles in Owo invited my father to a meeting to decide my fate because they felt he contributed to my problems. He honoured the invitation and after the discussion, he took me back to his house in Lagos. While I was living with my father, my husband began to plead for forgiveness, saying that it was the devil’s work and that he was a changed man, that he had gone to different churches and they said he must come and ask for forgiveness for all the wrong he did to me otherwise our son would die.
That his life would be miserable without me. He went to my village to plead with relatives. He insisted that he couldn’t marry any other person but me. I told him that I preferred to live under my father’s roof and I was no longer interested and that I have had enough of the beating, humiliation and misery.
After I returned to my father’s house, it did not take time for his attitude towards me to change. He kept on lamenting that I was a source of shame and disgrace to him and the family because I gave birth at home and also had a failed marriage. I kept pleading with him to have compassion on me. I sold fuel. I made clothes for people to enable me provide for my children.


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