10. It Was Tough, But I Was Finally Able to Leave - One Woman's Domestic Violence Story

My name is Omalinze Okonkwo. I am a 33 year old Nigerian woman, who fled to the US to get away from a violently abusive husband/marriage. It had been hell, pretty much from day one of our 10 year marriage, with lots of hospitalizations and two separations in between. And it was ALL forms of abuse, from physical to emotional to psychological to mental to financial. This is the story of how I left, it was not and has not been easy, but I'm glad I'm free.


All that night that we were to leave the next day, I sat up, afraid, sleep far from me, I must have only nodded off at about 4:30am. At about 6am, I was awakened by the bedroom door slamming shut.

“Why are your wardrobe doors locked?” he demanded without ceremony.
“I think some of my stuff has been missing and I think it might be the TV guys so I locked them.”
“Well, they are gone now so come and open them.”
I shakily, said “Do you need something?” and he swung at me but I ducked clumsily.

He dragged me to the room, and forced me to open them. Then he asked where was my stuff because my wardrobe looked scanty. I said, I’d given most of them away as I was never going to wear them again. He glared steadily at me and appeared to consider my answer for a few minutes. I’d lost a lot of weight and my clothes were too big. But I’d left everything including my documents and my workout materials and my only set of jewelry because he was constantly going through my things so that must have calmed him a bit.

Not fully satisfied, he went to the kids’ rooms and opened their wardrobe and didn’t seem to notice the few missing things I’d packed because they had outgrown most of their clothes anyway so I hadn’t much to pack. Then, he looks around the room slowly and his eyes fall on my suitcases which I had left stacked out in the open for weeks but mixed with my visiting sisters’ which were kind of similar.

“Why are your suitcases out here?” I said they were my sister’s now as I had given them to her. However, he still sensed something saying… “Something is VERY wrong.”

I was petrified by then and when he tells me to get ready so we could drive to work to retrieve the passports, I knew I was dead. I shakily and silently got in to his car. Till this day, I don’t know what happened but about thirty minutes later he said, “ I’m late for my meeting. I’ll be at your office during the lunch break. Get out.”

That was all I needed. I jumped out, got on a bike and headed home.

I called my sister and asked her to dress the kids up. I threw our half-packed suitcases in my car and grabbed my jewelry and a few home appliances to make it look like I had found an apartment . I hugged my sister ,hurriedly with a promise to email her and and headed for the airport. Even though my flight was at 9pm, I hung around Ajao Estate which was about 40 minutes from the airport area till about 4pm then made ATM withdrawal at a fast food place because I knew he would track it . Hopefully, he would think I’d gotten a place in the area .

I was shaky, terrified that someone would see us at the airport and instructed my son to not smile or acknowledge anybody he knew because mummy didn’t want to talk to anyone. And as we were checked in, my heart beat a little faster till I thought my heart would explode. And I wasn't any less terrified when we got on the plane or during our 6 hour wait in Amman to transfer to the next leg of our journey. When we got to the UK, I called my brother again so I could go to his flat but his phone was disconnected.

After about 4 hours, I called an old friend Id met on my last trip over 5 years back and luckily, she was in town. She came and got me and the kids and took us to her terrace apartment (she was a retired nurse and on a disability leave so she had time). She insisted I stay as long as possible to rest . Apparently, I would scream out in the night while sleeping and she would come and watch me till I fell asleep. I was just beginning to relax until one day, my phone rang and it was him.

"You should know by now that I will ALWAYS find you." I hung up,shaking.

I immediately told her and we got in the car and drove to a shop where I sold my jewelry and swapped my phone. She loaned me the remainder of my air fare and I got on a plane to another city.Then I took the bus to the small town next to it.

After I'd called around and no shelter would take us, I got a BB and paid for 2 nights with the little money I had so the kids could rest and I'd figure something out. Two days later, the kids and I went to the doorstep of the church that I'd heard of during all of my many many online searches. They provide night shelter to homeless people where you have to sign in at a specific time each evening to get space. That is where we have been these past few weeks.

1. How I Got the Courage to Leave
2. How I Met my Abusive Husband
3. A Fatal Kind of Attraction
4. My Attempts to Leave or Separate
5. The Beginning of The Nightmare
6. How I Became A Different Person as an Abused Woman
7. The Red Flags I Overlooked Before my Abusive Marriage
8. Why I Kept Going Back To My Abusive Husband
9. When I Decided That I Will Not Die But Live
10. It Was Tough, But I Was Finally Able to Leave

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Myne's note - October is Domestic Violence awareness month and Oma thinks this was a great time to share her story and reach out to other women for support and also to encourage others to speak out or take action. Names, Dates and Places have been changed to protect Oma and her children.

This is the end of the story and the current situation with Oma now, half on the streets and half in a homeless shelter. Oma is currently in need of help, financial and otherwise and if you're able to, please contact me at myne@mynewhitman.com. We're trying to work as quickly as possible for the safety of Oma and her ability to keep her children.