09/02/2026
Behind Closed Doors Pt 1
From the outside, my marriage to Ade looked perfect. He was a successful businessman, and I was a stay-at-home mum to our two children, Tunde and Simi. We looked like the family many people admired. But behind closed doors, my life was a living hell, one I was too ashamed to speak about.
The abuse didn’t start all at once. At first, it came disguised as “jokes” and “constructive criticism.” Ade would make hurtful comments and brush them off as harmless, but beneath it all was a volatile temper that kept me constantly on edge. Over time, the words turned into slaps, and the slaps into punches. The confident, happy woman I once had slowly disappeared. I became quiet, withdrawn, and hyper-alert, constantly trying to predict his moods to avoid triggering his anger.
I told myself the children were too young to understand what was happening. But they did. Tunde, who was eight at the time, once asked me what he could do to make his daddy stop being angry with me. My heart broke. I reassured him it wasn’t his fault and continued to make excuses for Ade’s behaviour. I clung to the belief that because he didn’t always hit me in front of them, they couldn’t be that affected.
