I was a virgin

Although I had a smile plastered to my face, I knew traces of anxiety filled my eyes. Occasionally, I would take a quick glance at the man who was now my husband. He would equally glance back and smile. As the car sped past, I thought of how I had met him, the challenges and how we eventually overcame.
"You're quiet dear" he pointed out, caressing my face. I looked at him again and smiled.
"I'll be fine. I'm just a bit stressed" he caught the lie and chuckled. I was obviously thinking of what would happen later in the night. It would be my first time and I could tell he was glad he would be my first too. Mutema pulled me into an embrace. He wanted to reassure me all would be fine. I snuggled closer and shut my eyes.

We met at the end of a church service and became friends. Our friendship blossomed with each passing day. He once told me that something about me amazed him as he got to know me more. I was religious and claimed to still be a virgin at the age of twenty-five. I was respectful, decent and also a great cook. When we started dating, allowing a kiss was an impossible act. I would only go as far as a hug. All other acts beyond a hug were sin before God when unmarried people were involved. He had accepted my rules, even to his own surprise. Well, he said he loved me so much and keeping to himself for as long as I could go wasn't a tough task that he could not survive. He looked down at me and tucked some stray strands of hair back in place. I knew he couldn't wait to have me after months of celibacy.
The car gave a jerk and came to a halt.

"We've arrived sir" the driver informed as he stepped down from the car. Mutema alighted from the car and helped me do same. It was almost dark, save for the security and Street lights. We had been at the family house after the wedding reception, entertaining friends and well-wishes.

Mutema eventually found the key to the house after searching the pigeon hole for close to a minute. He unlocked the door and turned to me. I didn't know what to say.
"Come on honey, relax. No-one is going to eat you up. " he teased. I turned away in shyness. He walked up to me and slid a hand round my waist. It was a small bungalow, so he beckoned me to the bedroom few meters away. Once inside, he suggested I freshened up first and I nodded, walking into the bathroom with a change of clothes. I caught him smiling again. Few minutes later, I came out dressed in a silk night wear. I almost choked from his stare. He later reduced the volume of the music playing before walking off to the bathroom.

We laid in bed. My heart was thumping and sleep deserted me. I was that naive. I was silent, then I noticed my husband had moved closer. I could feel his body beside me. His left hand wandered to my thigh as he placed kisses around my neck. I shivered. I thought I was prepared enough for that moment, but I realized I was not half-ready. I couldn't allow him to continue. I was not ready, but at the same time, I couldn't push him away completely. That would be rude. Moreover, I was married and wives were supposed to be submissive, I thought.
The second whimper and shiver made him halt. He raised his head and looked at me with half-open eyes. I chose that moment to shut my eyes tightly. There was silence. Then he kissed my forehead and rolled back to his sleeping space. I finally opened my eyes and looked at him. He was waiting for me to come into his arms. He muttered something. He wanted me to take my time. A tear almost escaped my right eye as I thanked God for giving me an understanding husband. Right in his arms, I made up my mind to give in when next he made a move. But that would be another day. By them I would have mustered enough courage to do so, I hoped.

The following day, nothing happened. I felt I was ready at that moment, but he wanted me to be sure. It was on the fourth night after my wedding that my anxiety came to an end. I lost my virginity to my husband. It was an awesome experience, I cannot deny. By morning, I felt fulfilled. I opened my eyes for the first time and realised he was staring at me. He had a naughty grin and his eyes were dancing.
"Good morning dear" I managed to say before my throat shut down in shyness.
"Morning love. How was your night? " I wasn't sure if that was a question. We both knew how my night was. I ducked under the duvet as he let out a throaty laughter. Then we started struggling playfully with the duvet. He managed to finally pull it from my grip to his side of the bed. I covered my face with a pillow and screamed into it. My scream met a cold silence. I expected him to At least make a move at the pillow, but he was suddenly mute. I dropped the pillow and looked at him. One moment face held no expression, the next moment, it was that of shock and confusion. He was staring at a spot. I followed his gaze to my thighs and back. I still could not understand the reason for his expression.

"Babe, why did you lie?" It was my turn now to be confused. I could not decipher what the question was about.
"How? " I found my voice to ask. He turned to face me.
"You were not a virgin all those times we were together. Why would you lie to everyone? You know I so much dislike liars. I still would have accepted you if you were honest because I was not one when I met you. "
I couldn't fully understand him. My brain chose that moment to betray me. I could only widen my mouth as I stared on.
"I don't trust you anymore. Am I so stupid that you thought I wouldn't notice?"
Silence.
Why would he all of a sudden come to that kind of accusation. He was sweet a couple of minutes ago.
"Don't keep quiet on me babe. "his voice jerked me to reality.
"But honey, why would I lie. You know I've never slept with another man. You taught me all I did last night."
"So how do you explain the unstained bed sheets? "

I paused a bit, then pulled myself up from the bed and stared at the clean sheet. I opened my mouth but no words were forthcoming, so I shut it back. I was confused. There were supposed to be stains on the sheet indicating I was no more a virgin as a result of the previous night's adventure. Everyone I knew said virgins bleed their first time. I was one, and that was really my first experience, but it baffled me as to why there was no blood. Could it be that what I was told was not true, I thought. But my husband was holding the 'no stain' issue against me and he was more experienced in that field to know better.
I was a virgin, I insisted. Even if I was a victim of infant rape, I would somehow have remembered, or my family would have deemed it ditto let me know when I was much older to bear such.
With tears I looked at my husband, shaking my head at the same time. I couldn't trust myself to speak. He stared back at me for few seconds, then got up and made for the bathroom. I could hear him make sounds of frustration. He spent a lot of time before he finally came out. Without giving me a look, he made for the wardrobe. He didn't respond when I called his name. When he was done with dressing up. He took his car key from his trouser pocket and gave me one last look before he headed out.

My heart sank. It was a look of disappointment. For the first time in years, I felt really scared. I did not have a clue of where he was going to, I didn't know whom he would talk to concerning the situation although I was innocent. I also didn't know when he would be back or what would happen when he got back. I remained seated on the bed, staring absentmindedly at my nightwear on the floor.
At that moment, I noticed my phone was ringing but I couldn't move and it rang out. I was not in the mood for phone calls although it was my mum calling. She later sent me a text message about reconciling with my husband before ever setting foot at home. Mutema already told her.
By noon, he was yet to come back. I had stopped crying at that moment. I needed to eat as I had not taken anything that day. I sluggishly stood and ventured into the kitchen to prepare a meal for two. I hoped that when he had eaten and calmed down, we would be able to discuss the issue at hand. How wrong I was. He didn't spare a second glance at the dining table when he eventually came back in the evening. That was the beginning of my marital woes.

My husband is an orphan. He was the only child too before his parents passed away a little over a decade ago. I was a bit relieved as I could not imagine how terrible it would have been for me if he had a family strongly behind him. I had heard horrible stories. For weeks, he would not taste my food or allow me do his laundry. He took care of his clothes and either cooked for himself or ate out. Within a month, I had lost weight due to my situation. Initially, I begged him almost every night but that did not make him change his attitude towards me. Sometimes I wondered why the issue was lingering for that long. I didn't ever think it was a serious issue. But I was weaker, and trying to cower no more but stand against his actions might worsen the situation. I had to thread with caution. I failed to understand why women were always victims.
I remember the other day when an old friend of his paid a visit and I overheard them talking about me. He told my husband of how he met me the first time in a night club. He said I was raped and he was the one who took me to a hospital. He added I was drunk therefore I wouldn't be able to recognize him. Who would believe if I said it was my reckless twin sister he had met. I was the only one she confided in about the rape. She was no longer available to confirm the story. She was dead.
I continued praying about the situation. I never gave up. I didn't know how God was supposed to handle it, but I believed he would. One evening, I was in the sitting room watching television. My husband was not back from work, so I had to stay awake to lock up when he eventually came home. He was oozing of alcohol when he got home. I greeted him and for the first time in weeks, he actually replied! I was surprised, but then, he was drunk. I didn't want to get my hopes high for nothing. He dropped his briefcase and keys on the table and made straight for the rest room.

The television screen caught my attention as I stood to turn it off. It was a medical seminar advert. I dashed for a pen and piece of paper and quickly scribbled down the venue and phone numbers. I made a mental note to attend the seminar. Even if it was not related to my predicament, I would be able to meet with one or two of the professionals who could be of help.
Atleast if it was a health issue, I would start treatment early.
The seminar came to an end the following day and my hope was rekindled. If I had gotten that kind of information a month earlier, my life would have been better. I met with one of the speakers. He assured me all would be well if I could convince my husband to come to their headquarters with me. He was in the team of health professionals sent to that region to create awareness. He gave me his complimentary card before leaving. There was another problem. I didn’t know how to make Mutema go with me. When I informed him that evening, he only asked if the man would erase the fact that I lied from his head. I knew he would not easily buy the idea, so I quoted a website to him to visit at his own convenience and walked off to bed. I could not sleep. I was still wide awake when he came into the bedroom. We were not in good terms, but he had never for a day slept outside. I rolled to the extreme, ensuring the two pillow walls were in place. He also had never asked for sex since that morning and I didn’t rule out the possibility of him satisfying himself elsewhere.
“Why should I believe a cheap write-up an individual like me posted on a site to generate traffic?” I kept mum. He stared at me for a while, then laid on the bed and faced the wall.
He softened a bit towards me from that moment. For instance, he got back from work one day and asked for food. I had to hurry up to prepare something for him as I was not expecting that request. If I had known directing him to a website would cause that level of progress, I would have done that long ago. I began to see the end of my misery the day he finally decided to see the doctor with me. He said he would only believe if a professional gave him some direct explanations.
We eventually visited the headquarters and the medical doctor enlightened us on why a virgin may not bleed on her first intercourse. He assured it was normal and could be due to age or certain physical activities. My husband was quiet at the end. He would not look at me. This time, it was not due to disgust, but shame. He realised he had been wrong all those while. In some parts of our society, even the educated have wrong notions about virginity, how much more the illiterates.

Anyway, we’ve been living happily for three months now. I keep telling him I’ve forgiven all the wrongs, but sometimes I think he still feels bad about the past. It’s a matter of time before he can completely heal, I know. I’ll make sure I help him to. We’re in this together. Thank you.
I finally ended, smiling into the microphone.
“That was an educative and touchy story you’ve got,” the presenter chipped in. I smiled once more, dabbing off the tear threatening to escape my left eye.
“I love that I shared, thank you.” I told her genuinely.
I did not get the rest of what she said or how the programme ended as I was guided out of the studio by one of the organizers. I was not concerned. I was happy with my achievement and I hoped some people out there would find my story helpful.

THE END