“I met my ex-husband through mutual facebook friends in 2009. I was 27 and he was 26. We are both from Egypt and we had a lot in common. We started talking on facebook and eventually, on June 22, we met up. After that we started seeing each other every day. He was my Mr Perfect… I couldn’t believe my luck. He was kind, attentive… he ticked all the important boxes.
“On December 25, 2010, we got married. We had been together for 18 idyllic months… we’d had the occasional argument but nothing serious. Looking back, I can see that the jealousy and the controlling side of him was starting to show already, but I didn’t mind it. I just thought he was acting Egyptian… it was the typical Egyptian way.
“Before the wedding, we had a few intense arguments. I came from a background where the only physical violence I had seen was on TV. So when, during one fight, he pushed me, I was really shocked. But he apologised and I put it down to pre-wedding pressure.
“The wedding was in Egypt and it was so beautiful. Two days after the wedding, on December 27th, we flew back to the UAE as we were flying to Thailand the next day for our honeymoon. On the morning of the 28th, we were having breakfast, talking about the wedding. I was so happy – I couldn’t believe I was sitting in my home, with my husband, having breakfast. We got into a stupid argument about some people at the wedding… he was upset that my friend’s boyfriend had kissed me on the cheek. I pointed out that a girl had kissed him, too. He started screaming at me. I said, ‘I can see how angry you are. I will go in the other room so you can calm down.’ The next thing I knew, he slapped me and started spitting in my face. He was screaming horrible insulting things at me and lecturing me about how I was a bad wife and how there was nothing appealing about me. While he was doing this, I was crying and he was gently playing with my hair. After he finished lecturing me, he was really apologetic and was kissing me all over. Straight away I thought, ‘I have to divorce this man.’ But then I thought, ‘How can I ask for a divorce after three days? What have I got myself into?’
“I didn’t tell anyone… he seemed sincere with his apologies, but I can’t deny that something broke inside of me that first time… and I still haven’t got it back.
“A couple of weeks after our honeymoon, on the one month anniversary of our wedding, I was beaten by my husband. There was nowhere for me to run. I locked myself in the bathroom and he unlocked the door and carried me out by my hair. I was trying to fight back, but I wasn’t strong enough to hurt him. It lasted for an hour and a half… I couldn’t get out of the apartment. Eventually I was lying on the floor and he was beating my head. I was trying to protect my head and I started reciting the Koran to get me through. When he heard the Koran he stopped.
“Again he apologised. This time he said, ‘I’m sorry I did that, but it’s your fault. You made me hit you.’ Now I know he was wrong, but at the time I blamed myself. I thought, ‘If I don’t upset him, and if I keep my opinions to myself, he won’t hurt me.’ But that tactic didn’t work. I was beaten every two or three weeks like clockwork. On the 25th of every month – the anniversary of our wedding – it would always be worse.
“He was telling my friends and family lies about me… trying to alienate me from everyone. I wasn’t allowed to see my friends. I had to arrange to meet them at the nail salon or at work…. I was so ashamed about the beatings that I didn’t tell anyone. The only people I spoke to about it were his mother and sister and I thought they could speak to him. But they didn’t say anything.
“In March, I found out he had been cheating on me with prostitutes. That was the final straw for me… I had lost so much weight, I was down to 46 kilos. My hair was falling out, I was depressed… I was sick inside and out. I told my parents he had been cheating and that I wanted a divorce, but they encouraged me to try and sort it out with him as they didn’t know about the beating. Eventually I called my brother and told him everything. My brother listened to me for two hours while I was crying. At the end all he said was, “I’ll call you back.”
“A couple of hours later, my father called and asked me to put my phone on speaker phone so my husband would hear him. He said, “Can you hear me, Aila?” I answered, “Yes.” Then he started shouting like I have never heard him shout before. He said to my husband, “Get your stuff out of that house. Nobody beats my daughter.” Afterwards, my husband left the apartment. But not before beating me again – he slapped me, spit on me, pushed me up against a mirror that has really sharp, pointy edges. He stuck his finger up my nose really hard. I didn’t cry because I knew he wanted to see me crying.
“A week later, we went to Egypt for a big family meeting with his parents and my parents. I told them all what had been going on. His mother said, ‘What are you complaining about? We’ve all been beaten at some point. Maybe if he gives her a slap or too, he’ll break her a little bit so she doesn’t think she is in control of the relationship.’
“We spoke for seven hours and – even though my family were against it – I agreed to get back together with him and give it another chance. People on the outside can’t understand, but I can’t deny that I loved him then… I still do. Two days later, we flew back to the UAE. Once I got back, on April 2, I found out I was six weeks pregnant. I was so unhappy… I was going to be a mother, but I knew I wasn’t ready. I knew I was broken.
“I told him I was pregnant and I thought he was happy, but, looking back, I don’t think he was. Nothing happened that month… I saw the doctors and we heard the heartbeat. We were talking about names and how we would be as parents. But I was still heartbroken… I wanted us to go for marriage counseling, but he refused.
“At the end of April, we had a big argument and he packed his bags and left the house. I was devastated… I felt so alone. I was still unhealthy… I still only weighed 46 kilos. I couldn’t eat properly and I didn’t have any energy. I called his father and begged him to call my husband and ask him to come home. His father started shouting at me and said I was driving his son away. I was apologising and saying I would do anything to get him back. He said to me, ‘Do you think you can raise him again? My son is a respectable man. So what if he beat you? Who are you? If you don’t shut up I will come over there and beat you myself.’
“The next day, my husband came back with his suitcase and the biggest smile on his face. He was being cute to me and talking to my stomach. I was just sitting on the sofa in shock. He said, ‘What? Didn’t you miss me? You’re so ugly sitting there like a statue.’ He scratched my face really hard. I stood and went to the bedroom. He followed me and we started arguing. He pulled me by my hair. I said, ‘If you lay one finger on me I will call the police this time.’ He slapped me to the floor. I ran to the phone and dialed 999, but he grabbed the phone and ended the call. It was 7pm. He beat me until 10.30pm.He kept picking me up above his head and throwing me to the floor, so not only did I have a bruised face, swollen lips and cuts on my eyebrows, but I lost my baby as well. It ended when he was about my hit me with the laptop and all I could do to protect myself was bite him. He went to the bathroom to look at the bite. While he was there I called the police but I was trying to whisper so they couldn’t hear me. So, I hung up and called my best friend and said, “Please come right now and save me.”
“She arrived with the police minutes after my husband had left the apartment. When I opened the door, her eyes popped out of her head. We went to the police station – the police were very kind and supportive and they sent me to the hospital. At 2am my friend took me home and stayed with me. My ex tried to come to the apartment, but the security in my building called the police who came and took him away.
“The next day I went to the police station and filed for a divorce. That night the miscarriage started. I was in so much pain and there was so much blood. It was the worst time of my life. There was a revolution on in Egypt so my family couldn’t get out of the country to come and help me, so I went through it pretty much by myself.
“I was such a mess and so hurt, physically and emotionally, but somehow I missed him. This is how much they control you – he killed my baby and still I loved him. The mental pain of the violence is far worse than the physical scars. It’s devastating to be abused by someone you love. I dropped the charges against him. I decided I would leave it to the higher powers.
“For four months I was in denial. I thought I was fine… I was going out, I was happy. I couldn’t believe how fine I was. Then one day I was talking to a friend and telling her about it all and it hit me that I wasn’t OK. I went downhill then… I was depressed, sleeping all the time. I saw a therapist who told me my ex-husband was a psychopath – meaning he hurts the people closest to him and put on a very pleasing mask to the rest of the world. She said, ‘Your soul is sick. You need help to get yourself well again.’ But therapy was expensive and I couldn’t afford it.
“A year on and it still hurts. Domestic abuse is one of the worst things a woman can go through. It’s very difficult for me to imagine that I can ever trust someone again… He seemed perfect but he was the complete opposite of perfect. I’m getting better and the memories are becoming more distant. But when I remember it, it still hurts. I read a quote somewhere which said, ‘Sometimes you have to die a little inside in order to be reborn and rise again as a stronger and wiser version of you.’ I think that’s true. A part of me died in that relationship. The innocent little girl in me who believed in love and The One… I’m not the same person now. I feel completely different.
“My family has been very supportive. They don’t even mention him. The day I got my divorce, my mother said, ‘How he is dead. And the dead never come back to life.’
“I was in touch with him for a while but not any more. A therapist advised me to write him a letter thanking him for a all the good but saying that the worst bits weren’t my idea of marriage, which I did. I ended it by thanking him with respect and saying, ‘Here the story ends. I am starting a new chapter.’ His email in response was less than respectful. I have never heard from his family again.
“I was lucky enough to want to leave. You feel hated and unwanted and that can take the energy from you. But nobody should stay. Nobody deserves even a slap from the person they love. I hope sharing my story gives other women the energy and the courage to leave.”
*Name has been changed
