I CONFESS: Clean break not so clean
I trust the NATION staff will continue to keep up the good work you are doing in spite of all attempts to block the truth of the fact that Barbados is deep in immorality. Now to my story.
It has been said that in a relationship there are always three sides to every story – his story, her story and the truth. The first two happen because people want themselves to look good in the eyes of the public.
I met a man (X) in the mid-1980s whom I subsequently married. The relationship proved to be very tumultuous over the years, with X accusing me of having a man but yet telling me “go and look for a man who compatible with you” (because of my educational status).
More recently, he has been harping on divorce, saying: “I need to bring in new blood and you need to bring a U-haul truck and get your things out of my house because you do not have one block here.”
He is correct about the latter statement because he hid and built the house.
To wrap up 26-odd years: One recent Sunday night I entered the house around 10:30 p.m. X started up. I had had enough and the recent spate of women being murdered propelled me even faster.
So, in pouring rain, I packed my material possessions – my bookcase and CD rack and placed them in the garage in a sheltered location and my clothing, documents, books and so on in the dining room. I hastened to pack my car with some items to move into storage, left his house just around 3:20 Monday morning and returned about 30 minutes later for the other items only to find the door locked and chained.
I rang the doorbell, knocked on the door, called his number and he said he was in the bathroom.
This was untrue (his usual trade mark) because, as I discovered later, X was waiting on the police he had called to come, according to him, “to oversee my moving”.
Two male constables arrived at about 4:45 a.m. and he said to them: “She has a man and now she wants to move out. I want you all as witnesses to see that I am not preventing her from moving out.”
In reality, X had called them because he had ulterior motives from his actions. He had pushed my bookcase and CD rack into the rain from the sheltered position in the garage I had placed them. When I entered the house, his request for police presence became clearer. He had:
(1) flung my clothing from their tidy position on hangers from the dining room to the floor of the living room;
(2) hidden my black nylon portfolio containing my original birth, marriage and educational certificates, curriculum vitae, copies of references, confirmation of appointment to the civil service;
(3) hidden a purple shopping bag containing my work and study books; and
(4) hidden the valet key for my car.
He then pretended he had done none of these things and one of the policemen kept saying: “You can get all these things packed in this vehicle tonight? Well, you need to hurry up because we have another situation to go to.”
The other policeman was observing, or should I say, absorbing the situation.
At approximately 5:20 a.m. when they were walking down the garage drive preparing to leave, the calmer officer said to me, my name is “Constable [name and number], [named] police station and he – referring to the other policeman – is Constable [name only]”.
For years I suspected X hated and still hates the idea that I am independent, educated and qualified, and still continues to study to keep up-to-date with what is going on in the world.
His actions have proven me correct because he did not seize my clothing or other material possessions, but rather he seized and by now may have destroyed my books and educational qualifications. Though it would cost me to replace my educational qualifications and a few of the books – I have taken the necessary actions to have replacements done – X cannot take away the brilliant mind and brain with which God has created me.
As I key this story, X now owes me the following: the portfolio and the books, the valet key, and a tidy sum of money.
Thank you for providing an avenue for me to share via this medium. My prayers are with you.