TINUKE Sounds of slap accompanied by the throwing of other materials found in the home tended to compose the order of at least a certain day in the week . Tinuke a girl of about 19-years of age. Light-skinned, tall, blessed with nice curves and above all – a pretty face that’s endowed with a good look and ready-made dimples stayed directly next to my one-room self-contain apartment. This embodiment of beauty seemed to be a subject of harsh treatment from her supposed lover who she lived with Maxwell – a drug addict . On this fateful Tuesday I think I was done keeping calm over the maltreatment of this mistress by her delusional lover that the next thing I realised was my barging into their room to meet Tinuke on the ground laying half naked while Max appeared from the kitchen with a knife as a threat weapon or whatever. I quickly made to push him though I must confess to his being more grounded in term of raw strength than I was but who bloody cared? We both landed on the ground and next I received was a punch for all my trouble but I retaliated with one of my own which got him staggering and I followed it with a left hook that put him on the ground and momentarily unconscious I thought. I rushed to Tinuke who though was conscious had numerous signs of being turned into a punching bag written over her. Her lips were swollen as well as bruised , her face added weight due to the slap-and-punch combo and her gown was torn to the point that it exposed the larger part of her bosoms. “Tinuke please let me take you to the nearest hospital, you’re visibly hurt” I managed to say to her. ”No thanks, I’m actually fine and please leave as I don’t like what you did to Max” she replied. I had only witnessed all these in Nollywood movies but here it was reality and it was well about the life of a girl I had gotten to like or love a you term it in silence! “Are you crazy?” I asked her “ this guy doesn’t have you at heart and he will go to any length to humi…” I had hardly completed my statement when I received a blow to my head by an object wielded by a human that sounded more like a wooden plank after it came in contact with my head. I fell down instantly whilst I bled and clutched my head. “You wentew call your neighbour boyfrien’ to figh’ me right’ “ Max said while supplying Tinuke’s face with more powder In form of a slap. This tended to rejuvenate me as I got up and repaid him by ‘planking’ him twice in quick succession before hitting him with several punches and jabs which cut his lips and eye. Next I felt was a sharp blade piercing my back close to where I suspect one kidney is. In slow motion, I turned back to see Tinuke pulling the knife she used in ‘piercing’ me out of my back and put it on the floor while my blood flowed out like the Niger into the Atlantic Ocean. All I could mutter was “Tinuke, why” as I slipped out of this race and she tend to her drug-lover… But need I say, it is only the living that engage in love tales. Like Ghanaian songstress; Becca and Patoranking will say “…this love e no be by force…” . Leave that abusive man, woman today, you just might make it.