Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
I read a disgusting post recently on Instagram. It was about a woman who was dealing with a cheating husband—there seem to be uncountable instances of these every day. This post was a little different from the everyday staple though. Actually, I understate that—it was a lot different. A whole lot. Where most of the other women were lamenting the horrible, remorseless cheating ways of their husbands, crying woe and asking for help and advice on what to do, this woman was sharing a solution.
Now, you’d think she would be giving the usual trite advice like “pray to God” or “check yourself,” or even the slightly bolder options like “ignore him” or “go and cheat too,” which a lot of people—whose opinions mean diddly-squat because they haven’t been in that situation—tend to offer. But, No. This lady talked about how her anger and resentment festered within her after she had tried, to no avail, to get her husband to stop cheating. And how that anger had led her to hatch and exact her own brand of revenge. And boy, was it terrible?
She started to cook for him with (wait for it) her menstrual blood. And her pubic hair. And her urine. She described in great detail how she watched him eat the food, having no clue what he was putting down his throat. I could hear the pride and satisfaction with which she told it from the text. I could almost feel her triumph, the kind you feel when you get the better of someone, especially one who has wronged you before. And then she testified that her husband started to change his cheating ways.
I can’t be sure whether or not her cooked blood clots were what eventually solved her problem. One thing I do know is that after reading that post, the saying “… hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” took on life-like meaning for me. She was hurt. She was angry. She tried to protest, she said. But it didn’t work; he wouldn’t even let her talk. And so she had all this anger and hate building up inside her. For her to reach into the deepest, darkest parts of her heart (and body, if you will) to bring out those thoughts and actions, it is safe to assume that she was angered or hurt to her very core. I mean, dude slept with her nanny too. And that’s even more disrespectful, than keeping his dirty business outside the house.
Reflecting on it several hours later, I concluded that pain, when experienced repeatedly and over a long period of time, can create monsters. Pain can turn the nicest, meekest person into a cold, calculating and fearless non-human. And the truth about us humans is that our darkness knows no end – we think up the most evil ways to ‘pay back’ a wrong that was done.
I don’t know if it applies to only women though, or if it just so happens that women’s revenge recipes happen to have a shitload (or in this case, a pee-load) of spice and, therefore, get more ‘airtime’. But William Congreve knew what he was talking about when he compared a woman’s anger to hell fire—and found hell lacking.
For this woman, however, while I can understand how she’d be satisfied knowing she was getting her own back, I couldn’t help but wonder if her satisfaction was complete without seeing realization dawn on him if he learned what she had been doing. That would be an important part of the clap-back for me, were I the one who did this, because I would want to see him hurt like I had. And the only way that would happen is if he knew. And after letting him know, I would literally *drop mike* and walk out of the marriage.
But this aunty was not playing. She was quiet, patient. And the situation turned in her favour. Doing what she did no doubt made her feel like she had control over the situation, which definitely made her feel better. I can imagine her cackling with glee inside as he gobbled up hair-flavoured egusi soup or ‘red’ stew with rice. Jeez! I’m still cringing just thinking about it.
Anyway, I think this is a lesson to us people out there. Don’t underestimate people who seem like they can’t fight back, especially women. You never know what they are thinking, planning or even already doing to get back at you. The quiet ones might be the most dangerous.
What do you guys think though? Was she justified? Did it ‘serve’ him right? Would you do something like that if you were in her shoes? Or would you do even worse?
Share your thoughts.