Here is Zainab’s monologue. From ‘A Collection of Scars- Tales of a Church Whore’. I initially published it on the naked convos, you can read it here now. 


I feel sorry for my husband. Today as I watch him play with my daughter, Sarah on the floor singing nursery rhymes to her, I realise I’ve done him a disservice by marrying him. Each time a young Christian female asks me for advice on ‘finding her Boaz’ I tell her to be intentional in spending time with God. I advise her to focus on Jesus and her husband will come, I tell them this is what I did. To be perfectly honest that is not what I did, I was focusing on men focused on Jesus. Don’t get me wrong, he is a good man, and he probably deserves someone better than I am, a better Christian, a better wife, a better human.

We met just over three years ago; I attended a ‘Christians Running for Health’ event, organised by a local church. An acquaintance of mine, Tolani had suggested we attend. She was always on the prowl for a ‘future’ husband. ‘Selling my market’ is what she called it. That day, she met Gbenga, a prayer warrior, and I accidentally bumped into Jerry. I did accidentally bump into him.

While running, I began suffering from muscle cramps. I stopped running several times, to rest, and Tolani and Gbenga; eventually left me behind to allow me to run at my leisure. I never liked Gbenga from day one. That was when Jerry bumped into me; I stooped over pretending to attend to my shoe laces cause my legs hurt, that was when he came over to see if I was alright and our foreheads met like the bumping of fists. It hurt badly, and I began to cry. I wanted to cuss him out, but the pain won’t let me. After refusing several times, he immediately put me in his car and drove to a local supermarket to buy a pack of frozen vegetables to place on my forehead. That was Jerry, putting others first; it is funny how that day I did not realise that he was probably in as much pain as well.

After that he wanted to get to know me, he did not need to be persistent, I was desperate. He was a good man, I was 26 and my exes had all moved on. There was so much pressure from my family to marry. None of my actual friends was single, I was becoming lonely then, but I’m even lonelier now. We dated for a year; he was a devout Christian, I claimed I was getting there. He didn’t touch me once and I can count the number of times he kissed me. He proposed and I said yes, my parents paid for the wedding. We went to Paris for the honeymoon; he couldn’t afford better. The sex was awful, it hasn’t changed and I never had the heart to tell him the truth. He would have wanted to work on it, but I couldn’t be bothered.

You see, the problem is, my husband thinks we are happily married, and if you consider the important things, you may say we are. We have a good marriage, and if I weren’t such an evil person, I would love him right back. We don’t argue about anything, ever. When I have a problem with anything, I talk to him about it. He has always ensured that I feel free and comfortable to talk to him. He tells me everything; he keeps no secrets. When his already meagre salary was reduced, he spoke about it. I wanted to ask my dad for money and he refused. I was permitted to take daddy’s money for my frivolities like shoes and bags, but never for anything that concerned both of us or our little Sarah. He always wakes up and falls on his knees to pray and study the Bible for an hour before we pray together. I take that time to go to the guest room to pray; I mean sleep.

The only fault I can find in him is marrying me. If he were a better Christian, God should not have allowed him to marry me. A woman who did not love God or him. I think he was distracted by my beauty, my parents wealth and my claim to want to know God more. I had a ‘job’ running a charity, but you couldn’t call me ‘career driven’. I had a questionable past, but he was very forgiving, he said ‘If God can forgive you, why can’t I?’. I often wondered why he didn’t choose one of the ‘good girls’ in his church. The place was full of them; Bible reading, tongue speaking, choir singing, Bible group leading church ladies, and they were all single. Instead of marrying from the church, all the eligible bachelors went out to find a woman elsewhere who had a weak desire for ministry. I once asked Jerry why this was so, and he said; ‘those women think they know Jesus more than Jesus Himself’. He didn’t want someone who takes over Bible study at home. He felt I could learn from him, and he was happy with that.

These days, I find myself going through the motions of being wife and mother. Jerry is trying for another baby; I’m not. I don’t have anything that gives my life meaning, Sarah has a nanny who cares for her, and Jerry plays with her every evening when he’s back from work, I don’t want to taint her with my misery. I feel lost, my marriage and child define my entire existence and I don’t even put any effort into those things. I am often celebrated in my church; as a ‘woman of substance’, proverbs 31 materialised. Inside I’m dying slowly; I feel as though I’m drowning by waves of expectation.

I’ve always been waiting for something more, another life event to make this feeling disappear, but it never happened. I assumed that the joy associated with getting married would stop this feeling as I had initially put it down to cold feet. But after the wedding, the feeling stayed, and then I thought having Sarah would soothe me, but it didn’t. My aunties said baby blues were common in the family when I cried for days after Sarah was born. Now I have no tears left, but the emptiness remains. They said to snap out of it, but I don’t know how, instead I stay in bed all day. I have a lot to be thankful for, a great husband, a healthy child, financial stability, friends and yet, I have never felt more exhausted, alone, and uninterested. I don’t think I can pray to God openly because He’ll believe I’m ungrateful; afterall millions would die for what I have now.

I’m so hollow on the inside and there is nothing that can fill me up, I think they call this feeling depression, but I’m a Christian and that is not allowed.

Hello, my name is Zainab and I don’t want to be here anymore.


Read the other installments in the series; Defiant- Ibinabo,   Bitter-Fikayo, Rock Bottom – Amaka,  Whore- Tolani,



Never miss a post

Subscribe for new post alerts and make my day