In the middle of a soft argument about plantain, Chuka finally said something that made Ada walk away, not because she was done talking, but because she realised she had married a man who did not know when to stop. “That’s just how you women are. They are always talking, talking, talking. If I kept quiet now, it is because I am trying to avoid disrespect. If we want to talk, Ada, I can say things that will shut you up for a week.”
Silence! Ada, holding a ripe plantain in her hand, looked at him, blinked twice, and quietly dropped it back into the basket. She turned, walked into their bedroom, and closed the door behind her. Not a bang. Just a quiet close. Something delicate broke, not with noise, but with weight.
Chuka ate alone that evening. He had gone too far, and this time, it was not about the words themselves, but the tone, intention, and the need to dominate the conversation. He had to win. He had to prove that he could say something heavier, final, and would silence her. In doing so, he bruised the very fabric of what marriage is supposed to be, a safe space for both people to speak, to feel heard, and to be understood.
Many homes are littered with the corpses of words spoken carelessly in the heat of pride. There are husbands who must always have the last word, and wives who do not sleep until they have “put the man in his place.” We live in a society where strength is often confused with dominance, and wisdom is mistaken for who can shout the loudest or drop the heaviest line. That thought pattern is poison in marriage.
There was this elderly couple who lived in Surulere, Lagos, who had been married for over 40 years. And people often said, “If you want to see a peaceful marriage, just look at those two.” It was not that they never disagreed, as they did on many occasions, even loud voices were heard. They disagreed with grace. Neither of them ever needed to win. The man said at one time, “When I was younger, I used to fight to be right. Now, I fight to protect my peace. Being quiet sometimes is the loudest wisdom.”
There is something deeply human about wanting to be heard. We all want our opinions to count, our feelings to be validated. When that desire becomes a hunger to out-speak, outwit, and overpower our spouse, we have crossed into dangerous territory. A healthy marriage does not thrive on competition. It blossoms in cooperation.
I once met a woman at a couples’ retreat. She spoke with the calmness of someone who had seen both the storm and the stillness. Her husband had been the kind of man who must always correct her mid-sentence. If she said they married in April, he would interrupt to say, “Actually, it was March 29th.” If she said something in public, he would chuckle and say, “No, that’s not what happened,” and proceed to “set the record straight.”
It started as small things, but over the years, it chipped away at her confidence. She began to speak less, laugh less, contribute less. She described it like walking on eggshells, knowing that no matter what she said, he would always need to correct her. It was not because she was wrong, but because he wanted the final say.
They sought counselling, and in those sessions, the husband had to face a hard truth. His need to have the last word was rooted in pride, insecurity, and a deep misunderstanding of leadership in marriage. Being the head of the home did not mean being the loudest or the smartest. It meant being humble enough to listen, to apologise, and sometimes, to let a matter rest even when you know you are right.
Peace in marriage is not the absence of disagreement. It is the ability to disagree without disrespect. It is knowing when to keep quiet, not because you have given up, but because you have grown up. It is letting your partner express their feelings, even when they are wrong and resisting the urge to “set them straight” every single time.
Some of the most fulfilling moments in marriage are not found in being right, but in being kind.
If you truly love your spouse, you would not always need to prove your point. You would not always need to win. Sometimes, you will choose silence over sharpness, peace over pettiness, unity over ego. You will understand that your spouse is not your opponent, but your teammate. Both of you are on the same side.
Let your words be wrapped in gentleness. Let your tone speak respect even in anger. If you must walk away from a heated conversation, do it to cool down, not to punish. Then come back calmly and finish the conversation with love, not venom. No marriage thrives on stubbornness. It thrives on humility. On those quiet moments when you say, “I was wrong,” “You were right,” “I did not see it that way,” or even “Let’s drop this for now.”
You must not have the last word, not because you are weak, but because you are wise.
If you have already made mistakes or said things that wounded, bruised, or silenced your partner, go back and apologise. Do not let pride become the language of your home. Let love speak louder than your voice. Let patience be stronger than your point.
At the end of the day, nobody builds a lasting marriage by always being the last to speak. They build it by always being the first to listen.
•For further comment, please contact: Osondu Anyalechi: 0909 041 9057; [email protected]