I Love Him So Much, But He B3ats Me and Sleeps With His Side Chick in My Presence — I Still Hope He Will Change Someday
On Sunday, September 14, 2025, Kenyan social media timelines were once again shaken by a post from Nyambura Mburu, a woman who has become a reluctant symbol of courage in speaking out about domestic violence in marriages.
In a brief but piercing Instagram story, Nyambura wrote:
“Loving someone who is hurting you is the highest form of self sabotage. Don’t do it.”
The words were raw, unpolished, and loaded with the weight of lived experience. They came weeks after she publicly accused her husband, a well-known film and video director, of subjecting her to years of abuse.
Her statement has sparked conversations across East Africa, not just about intimate partner violence, but also about the psychology of staying in harmful relationships and the societal pressures that keep women silent for so long.
Nyambura Mburu’s marriage lasted 13 years — a period during which she says she suffered in silence. In late July 2025, she broke that silence, sharing a series of Instagram stories detailing the alleged abuse.
She accompanied her testimony with graphic photos showing bruises, welts, and cuts she claims were inflicted during violent episodes.
According to Nyambura, the abuse was not just occasional, but systemic — a pattern of physical v!olence, emotional manipulation, and psychological control.
She alleged that her husband beat her with belts, electric cables, and TV hangers. In one post, she recounted a night when she locked herself in the bathroom to protect herself, only to have the door broken down.
“I have smiled for years while dying inside,” she wrote. “I was the perfect wife in public, but at home, I was a punching bag.”
Nyambura’s story is tragically common. Domestic abuse survivors often live double lives — presenting a cheerful exterior to friends, colleagues, and family, while enduring unspeakable pain in private.
Psychologists call this “masking” — a coping mechanism where victims hide the truth to protect themselves from judgment, shame, or retaliation.
“Abuse victims are often more concerned about how society will perceive them than about their own safety,” says Dr. Akinyi Odhiambo, a Nairobi-based trauma counselor. “They fear being blamed, stigmatized, or abandoned if they speak out.”
Nyambura admitted that part of the reason she stayed was to “protect her family’s image” and avoid the stigma of divorce.
Domestic abuse experts describe a well-known “cycle of abuse”:
- Tension Building Phase – where arguments, criticism, and intimidation escalate.
- Incident Phase – where physical or emotional violence occurs.
- Reconciliation Phase – where the abuser apologizes, promises to change, or showers the victim with affection.
- Calm Phase – where the relationship appears normal, until the cycle repeats.
Nyambura’s own account suggests she lived this cycle for more than a decade.
“Every time I tried to leave, he would cry, beg, and promise to be better,” she said. “And because I loved him, I stayed. I thought he would change. But he never did.”
Her Sunday post — warning others not to love those who hurt them — is a clear sign that she has broken the cycle, or at least taken the first steps towards freedom.
Nyambura’s story has also reignited debates about how African cultural expectations often pressure women to endure abusive marriages.
In many communities, divorce is seen as a failure — and women are told to “pray, endure, and be patient.” Religious and traditional leaders sometimes encourage reconciliation at all costs, even when the woman’s life is in danger.
“Women are taught from a young age that marriage is sacred and must be preserved no matter what,” explains sociologist Dr. Rose Wambui. “This conditioning makes it extremely difficult for victims to walk away.”
Nyambura’s courage in naming her abuse publicly is therefore not just personal — it is political. It challenges a culture that prioritizes marital preservation over women’s safety.
Following her revelations, Nyambura received an outpouring of support from women’s rights activists, fellow survivors, and ordinary Kenyans who praised her for her bravery.
Hashtags like #JusticeForNyambura and #EndDomesticViolence trended for hours on Kenyan Twitter.
“Nyambura, you are saving lives by speaking up,” one supporter wrote. “Your pain will give courage to women who are still suffering silently.”
But there was also backlash. Some social media users accused her of “destroying her husband’s career” and “airing family matters in public.”
This mixed reaction reflects the ongoing tension between protecting family privacy and confronting abuse.
Domestic ab*use leaves deep scars — both visible and invisible.
Nyambura shared that she developed chronic anxiety, insomnia, and depression as a result of the abuse. She also experienced physical complications, including recurring migraines and back pain from past beatings.
Medical experts say survivors of long-term abuse often suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), panic attacks, and low self-esteem.
“The body remembers trauma,” says Dr. Odhiambo. “Even after the abuse ends, survivors may continue to relive the pain through flashbacks or nightmares.”
Although Nyambura has not yet confirmed whether she has filed a police report, women’s rights lawyers are urging her to seek legal redress.
Kenya’s Protection Against Domestic Violence Act (2015) provides a legal framework for victims to obtain restraining orders, press charges, and access shelters.
“This is not just a private matter; it is a criminal matter,” says lawyer Grace Wairimu. “Perpetrators of domestic abuse must be held accountable, no matter their social status.”
The challenge, however, is that many victims withdraw cases due to family pressure, financial dependence, or fear of reprisal.
Nyambura’s public posts suggest that she is now focused on recovery and self-reclamation. She has spoken about starting therapy, building a new life, and rediscovering her voice outside the shadow of abuse.
“I am choosing myself for the first time in 13 years,” she wrote in one of her follow-up posts.
Therapists say that healing from abuse is a long journey that involves:
- Regaining a sense of safety
- Rebuilding self-worth
- Processing the trauma through counseling
- Learning healthy relationship boundaries
- Forgiving oneself for staying as long as one did
Nyambura’s case is just one among thousands. According to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics, nearly 45% of women have experienced physical or s3xual violence in an intimate relationship.
Domestic abuse remains one of the most underreported crimes, with many cases never making it to police stations or courts.
Activists argue that until there is a stronger national response — including better enforcement of laws, survivor support programs, and public education campaigns — the cycle of abuse will continue.
Despite the pain and controversy, Nyambura’s voice is now part of a growing movement of African women who are refusing to suffer in silence.
Her message — that loving someone who is hurting you is self-sabotage — is resonating with a generation of women who are learning to choose themselves.
“It is not selfish to leave,” says Dr. Wambui. “It is survival. It is choosing life.”
Nyambura Mburu’s story is not just about one woman’s pain — it is about a collective reckoning. It forces society to ask difficult questions:
- Why do women feel trapped in abusive marriages?
- What systemic failures allow abusers to act with impunity?
- How can communities better support survivors without shaming them?
Her decision to speak out is a step toward dismantling the culture of silence. It may not undo the harm she suffered, but it could prevent another woman from enduring the same fate.
For Nyambura, the road ahead may be long, but she is no longer walking it alone. Across Kenya, and beyond, women are echoing her words:
“Loving someone who is hurting you is the highest form of self-sabotage. Don’t do it.”
And perhaps, in that shared declaration, lies the beginning of collective healing.
Source: LIB