That night, when John went on his knee to propose to me, the first question I asked him was, “Why?”

Why did he choose me to be his wife, knowing fully well that I didn’t match his standard in any way? Why did he choose me, Ige, and not Amaka, the woman his family wanted him to marry for business purposes? Why did he want to marry me, knowing that my disability would create barriers in our relationship?

Despite all the questions swirling in my mind, he said one thing that eased the fear in my heart: “I love you, Ige, and that’s what matters.”

When he said that, I felt peace within me, and for the first time, I believed he knew what he was doing.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t battling low self-esteem because of my disability. I was just a little scared of the unknown. Even while we were dating, people always had something to say about us.

“Are you sure she’ll have the strength to carry your children with those legs of hers?”

“Why are her legs so ugly? Can you deal with that?”

They would ask him these ridiculous questions in my presence, and while those words sometimes stung, John was always there to comfort me. He would remind me of his love over and over again.

Sometimes, I think about the silly mistake that landed me in this situation. If I could go back in time, I would have punched that nurse in the face and tormented her until she found a way to fix the damage she caused. I wasn’t born with anisomelia. My parents told me I developed the condition after receiving the wrong vaccine during the third stage of my immunisation as a baby.

My parents were furious. They fought the hospital, but the damage was done. There was no going back. I would have to live with it for the rest of my life.

Growing up, I didn’t know anything was wrong with me until I entered primary school. That was when I noticed I looked different and walked differently, and everyone stared at me.

My teachers didn’t dislike me, and their preferential treatment wasn’t born out of hate for my legs. They were trying to protect me. But being excluded from sports or group activities made me feel like an outsider. Watching other kids play and laugh while I sat alone in the classroom felt like hell.

Some kids laughed at me, and others avoided me. By the time I was eight, I wanted to quit school.

Thankfully, my parents’ love and support kept me going. They pushed me through secondary school and university, and their encouragement made me see myself as someone with value and vision, not a liability.

One thing led to another, and I met John. We became friends, then lovers. Everything happened so fast that I only realised how serious it was when he proposed. John was the son of one of Lagos’ most renowned oil tycoons. My parents were nothing compared to his. But John didn’t care, even though his family was against us.

We had a quiet wedding in Lagos and honeymooned in the Maldives. Those were the happiest days of my life. John treated me like a queen, and I felt like I was on top of the world.

But everything went sour six months after we returned to Nigeria.

What I feared most began to surface. John grew close to Amaka, and when I asked about their sudden friendship, he said it was purely business, that they needed to meet often to discuss the family’s joint venture. I believed him. I trusted him.

But soon, he stopped taking me to events and awards ceremonies. Instead, Amaka went as his “business partner.”

John also prevented me from working. He said it would stress me out and insisted I stay home while he provided for everything. Reluctantly, I agreed. I became a housewife, cooking, cleaning, and being available whenever he came home. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I was determined to endure it until I started my own business and reclaim my life.

But then, I discovered his betrayal.

John wasn’t just close to Amaka; he was having an affair with her, the woman his family wanted him to marry. She was already pregnant.

When I confronted him, he said, “My family forced me into it. But I still love you, Ige.”

I laughed bitterly. “Why?” I asked him.

Why did you promise to love me when you knew you wouldn’t keep your word? Why did you marry me when you knew you wouldn’t fight for me till the end? Why did you look me in the eyes and say I was enough when you knew I wasn’t? Why did you let me dream of forever when you already had one foot out the door? Why did you lie to me, John? Why?”

John stared at me, speechless. His silence answered every question I asked.

I walked away that night. I told myself I couldn’t stay with a man who broke my heart so carelessly. But life had other plans. A week later, I found out I was pregnant. It was too late to leave. Or wasn’t it too late?

Dorcas Akintoye
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Dorcas Akintoye is a versatile writer with a passion for beauty, fashion, relationships, and culinary delight. With a keen eye for detail and a passion for storytelling, she adds a touch of elegance to every topic she explores. She is a writer at THEWILL DOWNTOWN.