Bride Of Lucifer’s Son

By Tanatsiwa Christabel Dube

In this poignant love affair,  Portia Sibanda, a youthful and impassioned boutique manager in the city of Gweru and her son are victims of intimate partner violence suffering at the hands of her violent and severely alcoholic husband,  Hardin Sibanda. Portia hid Hardin's footprints even after the accidental passing  of their child. Portia keeps an innocent but deadly secret from Hardin. Skeletons from Hardin's closet appear in Portia's eyeshot during the course of the year leading up to their fourteenth wedding anniversary,  but she puts up with them and continues to stand her ground out of love for him. Reality worsens as a mountain of secrets gradually shatters what she believed to be their unbreakable ties. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Diamond Publishers
• Release date: Jan 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215015254

Book preview

Love shouldn’t hurt.

Life is a string of connections, one where we have to cherish each and every one of them. We have to learn to value the smallest things in life as they are the ones that make the biggest difference.

Laying a hand on the ones we love is not the solution, but rather a door to more complex problems.

We are the authors of our own future so destiny can only take its course if we let it. We need to develop mindsets that prevent wars not make them. Entrepreneurs that make jobs, not wait for them. Children, whose presence is celebrated not tolerated. We need to develop mindsets for peaceful conflict resolution. Our world is falling apart, but only a few people realise that what affects an individual affects the global community as a whole.

Hats off to Ammara Brown for writing as well as singing such a touching song, a song that opened my eyes to the door of the harsh realities of life.

This is not the world we had in mind, but we still have got time to change. This is our time! Let us claim it!

We live in a world where misinformation can be spread in an instant, but we are all able to create mobility for positive change in the world...with the same stars, but with different patterns.

-Professor Lionel Corn  Imagi-Nation {University}

Professor for Organising Change

Dedication

To all the victims of abuse in the world. Let us break the silence and advocate for change in our world! In honor of the late Whitney Houston, a victim of abuse.

Appreciation

Special thanks to Ammara Nury Brown for a heartfelt song. Special thanks to the SAYWHAT team, especially Dorcas, Leo and Nono. Thank you so much for all your support. Ms. Tendai Basera, my pillar of strength, my mentor; you will always be a part of me. My family, for all the love and support you give.

1

T

he wind gently brushed her cheeks as she felt the warm embrace of a well-built masculine structure enveloping her. Do you remember this place? The voice asking her was fruity enough to wet her in places she never knew could drip. We had our first kiss right on that rock. She points with her eyes at a huge rock that had a shape of a collapsing mushroom. The man smirked, he pulled out his chin from the center of her head and leans forward with a hard kiss on her forehead. I think we should renew our vows right here. He said. Her face flashed pink and unable to keep the glare, she buries her blushing face in his chest. You must be kidding right? She speaks in his thorax.

Why not? Portia, I am here to stay remember, you will get bored with me and I will still stay. Hardin said

A gruff resonant baritone of a strange voice painfully pierced inside her head. Telling her to open her eyes. She forces her sore eyelids to open exposing where once a white layer of the beauty of her eyes were, now red like poison berries of the savannah. She diligently paid attention to a blurry vision in her eyes. Her heart skips a beat. She forces them not to blink, hoping the figures would soon take a better shape. Like spectre in a fading dream the images shimmered as if were made of smoke. In fleeting minutes it made sense. A face of Nyasha Khuzwayo, her best friend. She had found her drowning in her own pool of blood. Her face disfigured that you could barely recognise her.  Nyasha had wondered why her friend had not come to work that day, so she checked up on her. If she had not come, Portia would have died.

Where am I? She muttered through her butchered lips. Shh. Nyasha said, gently lying her head back on the pillow. Once a white pillow case was now crimson, from the wound she'd obtained when his head was ruthlessly wrapped against the wall of her bedroom. Her eyes scanned around at the hospital ward in disbelief they widened like a baby deer caught on a trap.  She winced, feeling the white sheets and bandages coarse against her skin.

Her limbs ached and her head pounded against her skull. A scorching tear ran down Portia’s bruised cheek. The morning vibe had drained out the colour of the coral-washed walls. The atmosphere reeked of sheer butadiene and aspirins. Even the ticking of the pendulum clock sounded more disturbing with each ticking second. Darkness overshadows her eyes again and she passes out.

A few days later...

Mrs Portia Sibanda., how are you feeling? A nurse asked, coming across the room seeing her awake. Portia tried to answer but her throat seemed dried shut.  The nurse