By GEB
THE recent murder-suicide incident in Ogun State, where a man allegedly killed his wife before taking his own life, is a tragedy that pulls the veil off hidden realities in many Nigerian homes.
Marriage needs not be a matter of life and death but in many instances, marriages have become haunted by fear. Unless the country urgently strengthens its laws, its support systems, and musters the collective courage to confront violence in intimate spaces, more families will be ruined, with hapless children left to inherit trauma.
The sad case has stirred concern across the country. The horror, however, should not merely provoke gasps and then be forgotten. It is a warning that serious cracks exist in the social setup —when a woman fears for her safety, a man’s violence escalates unchecked, and a bloody outcome follows because, within the national collective, no system was properly positioned to prevent the disaster.
That marriages often descend so easily into violence points to a society sitting behind a large facade of silence, denial and misplaced priorities. More often than not, the signs of a looming catastrophe are visible yet ignored.
Threats are dismissed as private family matters, reinforced by unfortunate proverbs such as, “There is a fight in the house next door; why should I bother?”
Too often, women are advised to fast, pray, endure patiently and “think” of the children, even when patience means signing one’s death warrant.
Society has grown a hypocritical thick skin to suffering within marriage, to the extent that leaving is framed as failure, while staying, even amid danger, is praised as a rare display of virtue.
Violence in the home is violence in the state. Its consequences stretch far beyond the immediate walls of a household. Gender-based violence across the world is acknowledged as a serious social and human rights issue, one that demands strong legislation, swift justice and robust support systems.
Victims are encouraged to speak out early, restraining orders are enforced, shelters are funded, and public education initiatives make it clear that abuse is a crime against the state, not a domestic disagreement.
One of the most painful lessons from this case is that women experiencing domestic violence often sense that they are no longer safe. Yet many feel trapped by an unforgiving economy. Victims worry about how they will survive as single mothers.
With children in tow, leaving an abusive marriage is often akin to walking into poverty and an uncertain future, even when staying is deadly.
The burden is not helped by religion. Nigerian society remains largely conservative and strongly disapproves of divorce. It is as though “till death do thee part” literally means a union ends only when one partner slaughters the other. Women are constantly reminded of their vows and urged to forgive. These are laudable admonitions, but they should not come at the price of minimising or spiritualising immediate danger.
Families, too, often play a misinformed role by pushing shame-mitigating reconciliations at all costs. Some parents would rather strain to see hope emerge from an abusive relationship than accept the truth that their daughters need to return to the safety of their homes.
These and other pressures conspire to create a cage from which escape is technically possible but comes at the risk of emotional and social backlash.
It must be stated unambiguously that sometimes walking away from a marriage is not merely the better option but the only option, inasmuch as life is preserved.
No religious teaching, culture or family expectation should justify remaining in a union where violence lurks. Marriage should offer companionship and enrich life, not snuff it out. The popular Yoruba quip, ‘soro soke,’ is not only useful for advocating better governance; it also encourages victims of troubled marriages to speak out early. Often, silence does not de-escalate violence but emboldens it.
Communities must learn to listen without judgment and act without delay. Cries for help must be treated as urgent warnings rather than inconveniences. There must be conscious efforts to shift the shame of speaking out from the victim to the perpetrator.
It should also be acknowledged that domestic violence is not suffered exclusively by women.
Out of fear of ridicule, disbelief or dismissal, some men endure beatings and humiliation from abusive wives. Their suffering is as real as their silence is dangerous. A society that mocks male victims or dismisses their pain merely cloaks itself in the very culture of violence it claims to oppose. Support systems must cater to all victims, regardless of gender.
Laws against domestic violence exist, but too often they are unevenly enforced or poorly understood. The government must strengthen existing legislation, ensure swift and unbiased prosecution, and invest in public enlightenment so citizens know their rights and potential abusers understand the legal consequences of domestic violence.
Protection orders must be easy to obtain, and social services must be equipped to intervene before situations turn fatal.
While state governments such as Lagos have taken steps in recent years to confront domestic violence, other states and the Federal Government must show greater interest. They should lead in setting national standards and coordinating responses. Violence within marriage is a national emergency deserving of the kind of well-resourced strategy the government can muster.
Often the first point of contact for troubled couples, religious organisations must shun counseling that prioritises the preservation of marriage over the preservation of life. Faith leaders must be trained to recognise telltale signs of abuse, refer victims when professional help rather than prayer is required, and emphasise that there are no spiritual justifications for violence.
Families must also resist the urge to preach endurance at all costs and instead prioritise safety, dignity and truth.
Nigeria’s marriages deserve better support systems than currently exist. Couples need greater access to counseling, mediation and education that promote mutual respect and non-violent conflict resolution.
Victims need safe exits, economic support and legal protection. Children need assurance that their futures will not be sacrificed to adult failures. None of this is impossible. What have been lacking are the will to be more honest and courageous, the recognition that society’s support systems have failed, and the determination to do better.
The Ogun State tragedy should awaken the national conscience. Three children now face life without parents because warning signs were missed, voices were muted, and safety systems were slow. If this murder-suicide is to mean more than momentary grief, it must lead to action, sustained conversation and change.
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