I didn’t trust him but went out with him anyway

It was on a Friday night and I was itching to go partying in Nairobi city. Having just come back from three months holiday at home, I had really missed that life. I linked up with my boyfriend who immediately agreed to pick me up in half an hour. He always went drinking on Fridays; and for him, it was a lifestyle he had to keep up with. We had been working through a lot of issues at this point, having just gotten back together after he had cheated on me. We were both trying to fix things.

He picked me up as promised and we headed out to one of our favourite joints in town. He was in the company of four of his male friends. Endless bottles of booze were ordered and the music was just right to set the party mood. We drank, danced and made merry until hell broke loose.

I couldn’t find my phone. I had given my pouch to my boyfriend as soon as we had arrived but now it was sitting on his chair open and without my phone. He was on the dance floor at the time having a good time with some strange girl. There was no one else I could suspect but him.

Burning with anger and jealousy I headed to one of the bouncers and asked him to search my boyfriend because he had stolen my phone. They did not waste any time. They dragged him by the edges of his coat and frisked him but they did not find my phone on him.

He tried to talk to me but I told him that he was a cheat and thief and I wanted nothing to do with him. This made him greatly furious. He dragged me out of the club, not minding the fact that I kept stumbling and hurting myself. When he got outside, he bumped his head into mine hurting me so bad that blood started trickling from my forehead.

I was still tipsy but I knew that if I apologized maybe he would stop. I told him I was sorry but he could hear none of it. He called a cab and literally bundled me into the backseat. We were going back to his place. I was sobbing uncontrollably but he kept saying that he was going to “teach me good manners” that day. I was terrified. His eyes were bright red and his fists clenched.

When we arrived he paid the driver and dragged me up the stairs to his house. He asked me to get into the washroom and undress. I tried to beg him to forgive me but he slapped me hard across my eyes. I couldn’t open my left eye because it stung with pain. I had no option but to obey him.

I undressed and got to my knees, profusely begging him to forgive me because I was drunk but it only seemed to fuel his fire. When I reached for his hand, he kicked my head against the toilet bowl.

I felt a numbing pain take over my head as I looked up at him with teary eyes, trying to comprehend how I could have missed this side of him.

I must have been out for several hours because when I came to I found myself in his bed. I could see his blurry figure seated beside me, whispering that everything would be okay.