CONFESSIONS OF A DANCEHALL EX-WIFE 5

Years later I discovered that Marco was born in St. Elizabeth and raised by his single mother. He later moved to White Wing and settled with. By the age of 26, Marco was a “community activist”, whose service to his neighbours included extortion and being linked to several shootings and murders. Frassman was his shadow. Marco knew how to speak the Queen’s english when he was ready. He had women from Denham Town to Papine. He was smooth as he was cold. So they said. He was always warm in my eyes. The only one who was known to control him was Bumpy, his baby mother.

Kelly was pregnant. I called Marco and asked him about it. He asked me what was there to question. I spoke to my girls about it and they said that they knew. So why didn’t you tell me? They thought I heard. They wanted to know how I was taking it. Taking what? The news. What news? That girls replied together, as if they had rehearsed the line several times to perfection, “seh Kelly preggers fi Marvin”! Set of bitches.



I went home. For a few days I kept to myself, avoided most calls, tried to concentrate on work, scrubbed from floor to ceiling every night, cried, went to Church. Marvin called, told me that he missed me. I miss you too. Didn’t want to face another quarrel. I was could hear the whispers and laughter from my neighbours. They looked at me kinda funny. They must be speaking about me. Everyone was speaking about me. The world was against me. I could hear their voices. I couldn’t eat properly and sleep was a stranger. Tired. So tired. I wanted to sleep for a lifetime and leave all my troubles behind. My mother took me to her doctor. He referred me to specialist. Mr. Specialist called it clinical depression. Up to today, I cannot understand why doctors prescribe all these huge tablets to someone who doesn’t want to live, and call it treatment. I just don’t get it. I called Marvin’s mom. She asked me to come and look for her. I couldn’t go because I was certain that she too was laughing at me. Fucking tablets were just too big.



Ring ring. Friday night, I am at home watching Lifetime, Will & Grace. Them battyboys are really hilarious. Ring ring. Cheese on bread, who calling me den!! – so my mind said in my best Bajan accent. You will be surprised at what you meditate on when your mind is turning to mush. Ring ring. Hello...... Your man name Marvin?....... Who is this please?....... Mi seh if your man name Marvin?...... I really cant manage the stress now, call back later......... Hey fuck out, cant breed gal, Marvin love Kelly, cause fi her hole good ......... Click.



Ever since Kelly’s pregnancy became news on local cable, in the entertainment section of the Star, online, every fucking where, I have been receiving those calls. Dancehall regular breed and it becomes gossip. Not yet pregnant home alone wifey becomes target. Fucking idiots. I was at the hairdresser on a Friday. Marco called and said that he was coming to look for me. Haven’t seen much of him, he was always busy. Not seeing him was no problem, one less distraction means easier time to swallow the tablets. Marco wanted to talk. I waited and he arrived. The rat Frassman was



not in sight. But no Lexus, this was a new ride. What happened to the car, where you get this van from? He explained that Marvin imported it several months ago but it was parked at a friend’s house. Whose name the van in? Who insure it? Who responsible for it? What you mean by don’t worry about these things? I got in the van. He drove to Port Royal. Well, I told the girls I was not going to make it. My excuse to them, bad time of life. Marco explained that things are now a bit different, that he has been doing much of Marvin’s business. And So? The sea breeze felt cool and nice. Marco handed me an envelope, a large brown one. It contained cash. To the brim. Brand new paper money. He explained that Marvin wanted me to move to the house in Stony Hill. Whose house? What house? Marco went on to say that it was Marvin’s house, that it was just completed. Huh! More news! I must move in by month end, that’s next week. Why next week? This was too much for one evening. New X5, house, money on top of money, abandon apartment, move to new house. Marco handed me the spliff he was smoking. I was never a smoker but I took it and made one big draw. Exhale quickly. Another big draw, exhale quickly. Slowly after that, slowly, slowly. Marco then said that Marvin was coming next week Friday. Good. So why Marco looked so strange? Maybe it was the spliff. This is some good shit here. He then said in his low voice, “Kerry due to have baby next week”. I never coughed so much in my life......
.(to be continued)
*Article written by Belly Bang*

CONFESSIONS OF A DANCEHALL EX-WIFE 4

Marvin’s mother lived on the outskirts of Spanish Town. She was a God fearing lady with a very humble lifestyle. As I climbed the steps to her house I didn’t know what I was going to tell her. She looked at me and quietly said “Marvin is in trouble”. I said yes. Marvin had gone out with his crew. He met up with a girl at a dance. They knew each other before. They left together on his friend’s bike. Marco had the car. Marvin carried her to an area by Hellshire. She said that he raped her. He said that nothing took place. The clothes were torn and the girl had bruises to the face. She said he used a condom. A condom. Some sick sense of relief in the height of the storm. Marvin was ok when I saw him. I asked him how he was doing, he said fine. I asked what he wanted and he told me, toothbrush, toothpaste, fresh clothes, underpants, slippers. He seemed familiar with the routine. He said that food will not be a problem as he had that sorted out. He said he loved me and asked me to look for his mother. Marvin’s mother took the news well, considering her age and all. She looked tired. She asked me to take care of him. I promised.




Lawyer, tick. Bank for fees, tick. Visits to cell each day, although all days weren’t visiting days, tick. Marco helped me with the up and down. He picked me up each morning and were together till night. No work for me, not now. The detective told me that knew Marvin. The detective said that he could work something out and asked me for my number. I gave it to him. Sleeping pills, tick . The detective called me every minute asking me to go out with him. I asked him if he was crazy. He insisted. I think Marco knew what was happening but he didn’t say anything to me. Marvin asked me to give Marco money to “sort out a programme”. What programme was that? You in jail, what fucking important programme you could have outside? It was plenty money. The day that Marvin was brought to the Half Way Tree Court I heard that the girl had given a statement to the Rape Unit (now CISOCA), but she could not be found now. The lawyer did not ask for bail, I don’t know why. The following week the case was thrown out because the girl had migrated and the police got proof of it. Justice isn’t that slow. I took note that the two times the case was called up, it was in the evening and in Courtroom away from the so called big Court.



Marvin came home. No parties, no dance, no up and down. Marco and Frassman came to the apartment daily and they all watched TV, played dominoes and idled. Marco carried me to work and carried me straight home. I got the feeling that I was not going to be carried anywhere else by Marco or anyone. Shortly after the case was finished I heard on the news that the detective was suspended from his job and ran away due to some car theft ring. Marvin said nothing only that he had to leave the island the following week on business. I asked him who was Nishelle. Who? I said Nishelle, the girl who said you raped her. He got angry and said that he didn’t want to talk about it. Everything inside of me erupted and I started to cuss some bloodclawt, told him about his parts and started screaming. He hit me and we started to fight. Real old roll on ground, thump, fist, shove over furniture fighting. I ran for a knife and he ran towards the bedroom. I went after him and it was then that Marco held unto me. Marvin came from the bedroom with a gun and said he will put me out of my misery. Frassman took the gun from him and told him to relax. He packed a bag and left with his boys. I didn’t ask where he was going, I just cried thinking of how quickly things had deteriorated. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have screamed at him. Why did I do it. I called his phone, it rang out then after a while I was only getting voice messages. I called Marco, Marco said that he couldn’t talk to me now and that Marvin was cooling out. Frassman just answered his phone and hung up. Lonely.

No more escort to and from work. Taxi it was. The girls came and looked for me and they were my only company. I couldn’t talk to anyone else about my problems. We went on the road, got a few drinks and they somehow managed to bring a smile to my face. They decided that we should go to our friend’s bar by Tower Hill. This friend always knew how to bring laughter to a bad situation and her company was good. Persons in and outside the community visited her bar and sometimes it was crowded. Few people were there that evening. I looked up the road and saw Pilly’s Plaza. I reminded the girls that they did nothing when I was taken from the dance. They said I was lying because they prayed for me. I nearly choked on my drink when I laughed. They told me that Marvin and Kelly left on a bike shortly after I left with Marco. Kelly was at the dance too? Bike? The girls said yes, Marvin left on his bike. His bike? Yes they said, the blue and white one. I got up and went by the clothing store on the same building that bar was located and I shopped till my spirit said shop no more.



Marvin left the island. He called before he left and told me that he loved me. It was my birthday. He said that he would send something special for me. Marco came by the apartment after he took Marvin to the airport. It was night. He handed me an envelope. It was a letter from Marvin. He said that he was sorry and that he would make it up to me when he returned. He said that he didn’t want to lose me. Trust me, I felt so happy at that time. Everything was good again. I called the girls and told them that Friday night was on once more. We did New Kingston and then we went by an upstairs club in Half Way Tree. Happy times were here again. So my schedule was work, home, dance. Marco kept the car and carried me shopping for grocery and paid the bills. He was in and out. Once I asked him about Kelly and he said that she was fine. Marvin called every now and again, to find out how I was doing and we were back on good terms.



My hairdresser was in Meadowbrook, Chancery Lane. It was close to home and convenient. Hours were spent there weekly. I was watching the dancehall channel on the cable, looking at the people up to their usual antics. They showed a video of some girl’s birthday party. The music was ok, though the decorations looked big and brawling to me. It was as if someone with lots of money decided to hop on the tacky express. Then I saw the birthday girl. A very pregnant birthday girl. Kelly.

*Article written by Belly Bang*

CONFESSIONS OF A DANCEHALL EX WIFE PART 3

Being alone with Marco was too much. During the drive home he spoke, I think I answered, I don’t remember. I do remember the smooth, soft, deep voice, the slightly hairy but muscular hands, the face, the face. The first time I saw Marco I was going to a funeral with Marvin. Marvin drove into this community near Three Miles, White Wing. I sat in the car and Marvin spoke to a teenager who came up to the car. I saw something in the boy’s waist. What the fuck? The boy left and called out to someone inside a row of enclosed outside showers. Is really this Marvin carry me down here for this Sunday? A door opened and out came this figure, a towel around his waist, a rag in one hand and a body that screamed “pon di dresser, pon di table, pon di floor, inna di roof”. Shit! To keep Marvin I had to keep my focus, especially now. No distractions. No White Wing, no poverty, no man who obviously not going anywhere. But, I did notice something clearly through the towel. Nope, nope, no distractions.




The night Marco carried me home from Waterhouse, on Marvin’s instructions, we never fuck. I wanted to. Honestly. When I reached home I asked him to follow me to the apartment door because I was afraid. He looked over at the two security guards that were nearby, laughed and said in that voice, “yuh nuh easy at all”. He drove off. I never slept that night. I watched TV and when Marvin came home I cornered him when he came out the bathroom & then we put down one of those “fuck till di bed base bruk” type of sessions. It was Saturday morning now, so I wasn’t really breaking my own Friday rule. Back to Kelly. Who is this Kelly? I asked around and found out that she was once in a relationship with a younger deejay. To those in the know, he was kinda freaky and his closest friend and dancehall elder was and remains a very colourful character. You name it and Kelly was there. Uptown Mondays, Weddy Weddy, Passa Passa, Lime Cay, anywhere and everywhere. Marvin was there too. People said that she was nice and that everybody rated her. I kept hearing that there was more to the relationship, that Marvin “ah fuck pon mi and him ah take mi fi idiot”. Even if he was doing it, it didn’t matter. Is me name wife so I really don’t want to hear nothing. One of my girls told me that one night she saw Marvin going into a doctor’s office with Kelly and Kelly looked as if she was in pain, holding her stomach. I knew the doctor. You all know which doctor I am talking about off Red Hills road and we know him open late. I didn’t ask Marvin about it. If he is helping someone why be a bitch about it?



I was at home. It was a Saturday morning, about 9. Marvin didn’t come home. I heard the car pull up outside and I looked out and saw Marco, alone. I asked him where Marvin was and he told me that something happened. The words that followed included police station, girl, fight, shooting. I cant recall the sequence. I started to cry. Marco told me that Marvin was being held at the Matilda’s Corner Police Station and I should come and look for him as I was the only one who could sort it out. I got dressed, climbed in the car. Next thing I knew we at the police station. Don’t ask me if we stopped or went anywhere else. I cant tell you. Several of Marco’s friends were there, standing and sitting in their cars. I went inside an office. Marco was outside. A detective introduced himself to me and I told him my name and Marvin’s correct name. The policeman told me that Marvin was ok and that he would be going to Court next week. I asked him for what? He said rape. ...........
(to be continued)
*Article written by Belly Bang*..BUM BANG

CONFESSIONS OF A DANCEHALL EX WIFE PART 2

Nine months ago I met Marvin and we were now living together in Red Hills. I asked Marvin about her. The woman in the pictures, on the videos. We were at home. He said that her name was Kelly, a friend. She was 30. Looked older to me. I was 26. He was 22. He said that she was Marco’s woman and that she was just one of the crew. Hold up! So how I meet everybody in your crew and never met Kelly? We always spoke of our friends. I am not confused! Whatever! Marvin reached over and kissed me, I pushed him away. I was angry. He grabbed me and pushed me down on the bed. We fucked. We stopped using condoms by then. That’s how it was. Ask questions, get vex, fuck, argument finish. I am used to it by now.




Friday was always the same. Marvin would and drop me in New Kingston by 6:00 p.m. and he would go along his merry way. Friday nights were my “relax and do whatever I want nights”. No sex, no cooking, no home play play thing, just my night to hang with my sistrens in New Kingston. We would start by JamRock. You remember JamRock? The Sports Bar that was right below Asylum Night Club, then owned by the same people. Rich older men, uptowners, downtowners, people chilling after work, a few artists and media personalities, nice music. After JamRock, we headed upstairs. We didn’t pay. The security guards called me Marvin’s wifey. They all knew. We would chill upstairs then by 2 a.m. we would leave and I would get a ride home by the same taxi. The driver knew Marvin. Marvin would come home just before dawn, always a magnum bottle in hand, shower and come to bed.



Not this Friday night. A friend had invited us to a dance at Pilly Blacks Plaza, Olympic Way, Kingston 13. I told the girls that I wanted to spend my night in New Kingston but they convinced me to go. We left JamRock around 11. I waved at the taxi driver and went in my friend’s car. When we reached the music was playing, the crowd was sizeable and familiar faces everywhere. The cameraman was up to his old tricks. We bought our drinks, went in a corner and watched the proceedings. No front page for me in Waterhouse tonight, strictly shadows. I saw the car drive pass the plaza. The white Lexus. Marvin’s car. Shortly afterwards Marco and Frassman entered. No Marvin. I wasn’t in any mood to speak to them. Marvin’s friends were not going to be a part of my Friday. Frassman was a skinny, short tattooed up mess, always in trouble with the police. He had a face and an attitude only a mother could love. Marco on the other hand. Marco, Marco, Marco. Hmm. Ok, I am not the cheating type but looking aint cheating. Tall, dark, 26 and sexy going on drop dead handsome. The selector hailed them up. Pure excitement. Both walked over to the deejay booth and stood up. My girls were having a good time here in the corner. An older man, shirt opened up & gold chains everywhere, asked us if we wanted something more to drink. Sharon jumped to the offer. No thanks. I looked across and saw Frassman. No Marco. I felt the shadow beside me and the familiar hand on my shoulder. I spun around. Go home he said. Why? Just trust me, go home. Why? I am here enjoying myself. Marvin held unto my hand, squeezing it. The girls stood still. So much for support. Marvin pulled and both of us walked towards the roadway. He was dressed differently. How you get here? When you reach? He didn’t answer. He waved to his left and Marco came over. Carry her home now he said. I was pissed and wanted to scream. He held out my hand and Marco held it. It felt soft. Warm, smooth.......(to be continued)
 

*Article written by Belly Bang*

CONFESSIONS OF A DANCEHALL EX WIFE

I saw him. Its been years, he still looks good. Sexy lips, a body that screams sex. The eyes are still filled with life and humor. Never knew that just looking into his eyes would rekindle that good old feeling. You know what I am talking about, that feeling that sends a spark through the brain, down the spine and all through the body. Any feelings of hunger, depression, fatigue are replaced by that special feeling.




Background. We first met at a friend's house. Sex first, then we got to know each other. He was younger, moved in all circles, from Cherry Gardens to Jungle, a regular patron of the popular clubs, a dancehall personality, I was the working girl, not your average 9-5er, but the checks were coming in and the bills get paid. He didnt work, traveled frequently, drove a nice car, several cell phones an always had money, lots of it. I didnt ask, he didnt tell. I didnt want to think about it because that wasnt my business. My friends told me not to worry. As long as he wasnt using it I had no problem. We partied hard, fucked harder. We did the family visits, his mother liked me. His father, who was living with second wife, was the older, much sexier version of him. His father liked me, alot, I suppose like how he would like wife # 3.



My man and I eventually moved in with each other.It was then that I made the decision not to crowd him, to give him some space, after all, we were living as man & wife so little space wouldn't hurt. I started going out with my friends and he partied with his. We liked the arrangement. After all we shared the same bed at nights when he was in the island. It was fun to be featured online in photos and in videos at parties, looking glam & fab. I felt good, a member of the in crowd. Some of his friends also attended those parties. I never cheated with them though the flirting made me feel sky high. Never cheated with anyone. The unwritten rule was that being wife of a dancehall personality, it was my duty to look good, be seen and be home before him. Compromises they called it. I complied. Lifestyle of the working girl and the party animal.



Yep, he said I was the wife, but I soon realised that being the wife and playing the wife aint the same thing. I met him when he had many women and he chose me to settle down with. I was the one. Me. He gave me money and I was the one whose name was placed on the bank accounts (the accounts I knew of at least). The other women were still there, I suppose. They didnt come to the apartment, I trusted him that way. They didnt disrespect, but they were there. I thought I could live with it. Even though we didn't party together together I got updates on his nightlife online & from Hype TV & RE TV. He looked happy, very happy, too happy. As a girls man he was always in the company of other women. Huh? But compromises, so, no problem. Then the other women became one particular woman. Always together, always laughing and dancing, always taking pictures with him and his friends. I asked him about her. ........
 (to be continued)
*Article written by Belly Bang*

HEAR WHA

AS ANON SAY:-sarry me nah ave no compassion fee cure even though im not de fadder and we all know de gyal was lossse fee put harself een dis stink situation

but guess wat, is still ah lil pickney here who need care and responsible parents and society wid people dat look out fee dem

so bunnnn jah cure, bunnnnn de madder and big up de lil pickney, ah your time soon come fee shine