Not So Happily Married…. Episode Three

Couple_ToyinFABBB

Did you read Episodes One and Two ?

If you didn’t, find them here Episode One , Episode Two

 “How long are we going to do this Jite? You should have called off the wedding since my sins are too great to be forgiven.”

“We will do this for as long as it takes for me to come to terms with what you did.”

“Now, do you want us to make love or not?” He asked holding the pink coloured condom in front of him. I looked at the object in his hands disgusted beyond all measure. I wondered why he felt the need to buy a coloured one. I glanced at the condom case and smirked at the strawberry pictured on the case. Oh crap, perhaps it’s scented too.

“Jite, don’t call this making love; it would be better put as sex.”

“Okay, then do you want  to have sex?”

“If yes let’s get it over with and if no let me go back to sleep peacefully.”

“Okay let’s do it.” I whispered shrugging

*****

Tears poured from my eyes soaking the soft pillow beneath my head.

 “I shouldn’t be crying.”

“This is my wedding night.”

“I should be deliriously happy.”

Those were the words I kept murmuring to myself as I curled up on the only bed. I felt worse than a prostitute probably feels.

“You are a horny fool.” I told myself.

“Why would you agree to being used like that?”

I watched Jite. Sprawled on the bed, he looked content, sated and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I thought of hitting him with something, anything but I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. “Mea maxima culpa. I brought this upon myself”. I murmured. I made a good man turn into what I could no longer recognize.

*****

I hate condoms. I see them as an unnecessary hindrance. Using them I feel like I am sharing the woman with a piece of polythene, somehow the sharing always ended in one of us being bitter while the other gets discarded in fury.

I felt a sadness that ran deep. I just had the worst sex of my life with my wife on our wedding night. It’s not like the condom was necessary in any way but somehow I was not ready to take the risk of having unprotected sex with Omoboye but most importantly I wanted to humiliate her.  Who knows if she still wasn’t ready for a baby?

The memory was still too raw to take the risk of it reoccurring.

I was at the clinic when you called. She had said as she opened the door of her room. I had visited her that evening after she missed a date we both agreed on.

Really, what’s wrong with you, are you ill? I had asked in quick succession touching her temple with my palm.

“Not really.  I was feeling funny so I went to the hospital immediately I left the salon.”

“I am fine now anyway. I just need to rest.”

“Okay so what exactly did they say was wrong with you?”

 “They said I was pregnant. Imagine that. Imagine me two months pregnant six months to our wedding.”

“What’s wrong with you being pregnant? Isn’t that good news?”

 “Well, it could be good news, except I don’t think it is.”

“If it’s about your stomach being big on the wedding day we could shift the event closer, besides that’s not even a big deal. A lot of people do it these days.”

“Jite, I know but I can’t do it. I can’t carry the pregnancy.

“Well, you can complain and argue all you want but you know you don’t have a choice right?”

“At least you can’t say you want to abort.”

“Why can’t I?”

“I can’t believe you asked me that question. You would abort a pregnancy few months to our wedding?”

“Yes Jite and it’s done.”

I had laughed certain she was joking.

You are not serious Boye, You would abort a pregnancy and still look like this and how would you have even done it so fast. Last I checked, abortion was still illegal in Nigeria.

Jite you have obviously been seeing too much of Nollywood movies.” she replied as she lay on her bed and covered herself with her Ankara wrapper.

“How so?” I asked my heart already palpitating.

“See, abortion is not that complicated; forget what they try to tell us in those movies. There are a good number of qualified doctors that do it on the side and it’s pretty simple. They bring out the foetus and you bleed for some days. You also take come antibio…”

“See, Boye spare me the lecture. What exactly are you saying?”

I’m saying it’s done already.

Omoboye, you can’t be serious. I replied searching her face for a hint that it was a bad joke.

****

I know it’s unheard of to abort a pregnancy when you are already engaged. I know that. I also know a lot of people will like to crucify me over it. But at that time it seemed like the reasonable thing to do. Even my mother had gone ballistics when Jite told her.  

‘That unborn child will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Mummy, I had gasped.

“It’s not a curse my dear. You would always think of that child, you would feel the loss, if not now, in the future. You would wonder if he or she would have been fair or dark, tall or short, intelligent or dumb.”

“Mummy stop.”

“Stop what? You have done a great evil in case you do not know. My advice to you is that you don’t come crying to me if that man refuses to go ahead with the marriage. Any sane man will call it off because you are not worth it. You are a vain creature with sand paper as brain.”

Mummy this is enough, stop right now or I walk out.

“Feel free to walk out because I have no intention of stopping until I’m done. If Jite eventually marries you because I don’t expect him to, God help you if you don’t get pregnant in your first year of marriage. I would be the one to tell your husband’s people what you have done.”

“Mum! Why are you making this look like a big issue? It’s not like I killed someone.”

“Oh, Omoboye, that’s exactly what you did. You killed someone; you killed a child.”

“Mom, it was a two month old pregnancy, something that was more of blood than any other thing.”

“May thunder strike that stinking mouth of yours.” She screeched sending a slipper flying at me.

I ducked and shivered wondering why she was taking it so violently.

“You called a whole human being something that looked like blood? You were once like that too, imagine what would have happened if I had aborted you.”

“Now get out of my sight, but Omoboye go and pray hard that your husband finds it in his heart to forgive you. If he doesn’t and the wedding is called off, I will tell anyone who asks me. I will tell them what you did.”

Driving to my flat that night I had been mad at Jite for telling Mom but I wasn’t in the position to show it, not when he was too angry to even pick my calls. Later that night after several calls to Jite still went unanswered I asked myself if I was under some kind of a spell. I was certain I had to be the biggest idiot ever. A smarter person would have kept her mouth shut. I kept asking myself what I had expected Jite’s reaction to be. Joy that I aborted his baby?

 

***

This has got to be the worst wedding night in the history of the world. I mused listening to her sobs. Why am I this way? I wondered trying to decide whether to comfort her or not.

But what’s with women and tears anyway?

They find it easy to break down in crocodile tears expecting the man to come rushing to wipe them off. That is not going to happen, I decided.

If I was a woman perhaps I would have cried too. I would have mourned the baby she murdered. Boy or girl. I am never going to know.

All my life, I have tried my best to ensure no girl gets pregnant for me when I am not ready for fatherhood. I made myself so versed in the art of withdrawal that I swore by it and even preach it to friends.

“It’s pretty easy.” I would say. “It’s all about self awareness and mind control. You have to be in control and make sure you are out in the split second before you climax.”

Somehow I must have relaxed after Omoboye and I got engaged and I was certain that must have been why she got pregnant. I felt like a bereaved father. As crazy as that sounds it’s still a fact that I have a child in heaven or wherever it is that fetuses go after they die.

Lying beside her and listening to her sobs, I thought of how we could easily make another baby. All I had to do was draw her close and ditch the condoms. But it was a risk I was reluctant to take. Not until she gets cured of her vanity and I was going to ensure that happens. I decided telling myself it was time to shut out her sobs and go to sleep.

****

Use your head, Omoboye. Think! I told myself.

 Mom always said you were going to be a lousy wife and here you are proving her right the very first day.

I sat up suddenly cleaning the tears on my face with the edge of my night dress.

“What would a smart woman do?” I murmured taking myself back to the moment we entered the room. A smart woman would act like she didn’t know he was acting up and take to pampering him to make him loosen up. My lips curved in a smile as the ideas started flowing.

“God please be with me on this.” I whispered.  

I moved to the side of the bed where Jite was and knelt beside him.

“My husband you must be tired.” I whispered placing my palm on his forehead. His eyes remained close but the frown on his face assured me he wasn’t sleeping.

“Sweetheart, I think we should eat something.”

“Should I order?”

“I’m not hungry.” he growled.

“You are not? What about a drink or something light. We didn’t eat anything at the reception you know.”

“I said I’m not hungry, are you deaf?” I cringed at his words; it was so unlike him to use such words on me.

 “Okay then. Can I rub your shoulder blades, you look tense.”

“See, I don’t need a back rub or anything else, if you are so bored, pick a magazine or a novel, I packed some for this honeymoon thing. Read or sleep and if its sex that you want let me know. I have enough condoms to last the entire honeymoon.” 

“Oh, Crap.” I said sitting on the bed with a force.

“Jite, why are you being so impossible?”

“It’s not like you were forced to marry me, you could have said you couldn’t do it. Look here, I’m not going to live the rest of my life like this.”

“In fact, how soon can we get a divorce?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Folk Tales: I Searched for Rats, I searched for Fishes……..

The story below is another folktale. These stories are as old as the Yoruba race itself. They are probably completely real, based on real events or pure fiction. I guess we will never really know.  I want to believe most of them have been modified over time and this is majorly because they were transmitted orally from generation to generation. I have tried to maintain the basic features of these stories but still they have been told in my own voice as I cannot claim to remember them exactly as we were told while growing up.

Please drop comments whether to tell us how you remembered the stories in case your own version is different or to even mention some stories that you might have also heard. I am enjoying this, I hope you are also.

PLEASE CLICK HERE FOR PREVIOUS FOLKTALES

 

Mo weku  me reku

Mo weja me reja

Mo fori ade sebe, me le saroye oooo

FavoriteAfricanFolktales

Once upon a time, there was a woman who lived with her husband and two children in a small village. This woman loved gossiping so much and would sometimes leave her children alone at home to visit her friends.

So one afternoon, after her husband had gone to the farm, she wanted to visit a friend in the neighbouring village. She knew it would take some time before she got back and so she called her eldest son and told him to prepare stew for dinner.

She said; “Ajadi, look for rats in nearby bushes, if you cannot get a rat, go to the stream and look for fish. Whatever you do just make sure there is meat in the stew.”

Ajadi told his mum that he would do as she said.

Minutes after the mother left, Ajadi and Ade his five year old brother set out for the nearby bushes, he took with him a big stick. The method was simple; it was something he had done several times in the past. He would look for Rat holes and set fire to the entrance of the hole. He would stand with the big stick lifted in readiness to hit any unfortunate Rat that decided to run out.

That day however, it was as if all the rats in the bush had decided to go for a meeting in a neighbouring town, he set fires to several holes but not one rat came out. He was at it for several hours but all his efforts proved fruitless. When he was tired, they left the bush and headed for the river, Ajadi took with him a fishing line and bait. He told his brother to sit on the river bank while he went to the river side. He squatted and threw his line into the river but no fish came near. After spending several hours at the river without getting a Fish, they went back home.

Ajadi was sad; he knew he had to make sure there was meat in the soup. He knew his mother would be very angry if he cooked the soup without meat or fish. He thought long and hard about what he could do. Finally a thought came to him and smiling he picked a sharp cutlass.

****

Evening came and the mother returned from where she had gone to visit her friends. She went straight to the outdoor kitchen and was glad to perceive the aroma of freshly cooked soup. She opened the pot and used her finger to pick one of the meats in the pot. She popped it into her mouth and nodded her head immediately.

‘‘Such good and tasty meat’’, she said spitting some pieces of bone out.

‘‘Ajadi, Ade’’ she called out. ‘‘Í’m home ooo.’’

She patted Ajadi’s head as soon as he came in. ‘‘Welldone my son, you have certainly done well. This is a very tasty soup. Now all we need to do is make some eba for supper. Your father will be home anytime now. Get me the container of gaari from my room and where is your brother Ade? Is he sleeping?’’

‘‘Ade you said?’’ Ajadi asked

‘‘Yes, Adekitan. Where is he? Has he gone to play with Iya Alaso’s children?’’

‘‘No, mother. I don’t know how to say this so I will just say it with this song. I am sure mother you would understand.’’

Mo weku, me reku

{I searched for Rats, I couldn’t find Rats}

Mo weja, Me reja

{I tried fishing, but I couldn’t get a fish}

Mo fori Ade sebe

{So I decided to use Ade’s head to cook the soup}

Me le se aroye oo

{Do not disturb me as I don’t have the time or energy for much talk}

The woman cried out in disbelief and ran into the house calling Ade’s name frantically. She entered her room  and there she  saw the headless body of her younger son on the mud floor.

The End

Moral of the story is?

My Wife is Another Woman by Kolade Gboyega @newnaija

 

                               This was written as a sequel to Some Men Make you Want to Hurt Them, see here

mother

We got married ten years ago and the union had been blessed with three boys before the birth of our baby girl some six months ago. Ever since the birth of the baby girl my wife has turned into another person.

We are intimate strangers. Forever together always miles apart in our thoughts and priority! It was not like this from the beginning! What happened to us…?

We had the three boys in quick succession. Every other eighteen months there was an addition to the family via my ever loving and beautiful wife.  Um, after the third boy, we had to do a little re adjustment that would keep the babies at bay at least for the next four years or so.

After much nagging from my wife and serious complaints that she also needed someone of her gender I heeded the call to try another one though I promised her that it would be my last attempt. As God would have it, her desire was granted, we were blessed with our bouncing Morenikeji.

The blessing is what is turning my once adorable wife into another person. The boys as we are now referred to have to fend for ourselves. Dinner is out of it, we make do with restaurant meals because the “gals” are busy or too tired to see to us. In fact, the house help we agreed not to be part of our household now does nearly everything.

Six months after the birth of her daughter we are yet to be together in the way of a man and wife.

“I’m tired”, “tomorrow” “later” are some of the few excuses I’m given. To make matter worse, her BBM carries Morenikeji’s picture, twitter handle name bears “keji’s mum’, her bio reads a loving mother of a beautiful and adorable queen KJ. Even her details on the facebook read on column for work “full-time mum and proud mother of KJ”.

How long can I cope with this KJ stuff? She is my daughter and I’m not jealous but the transformation of my once loving wife is bringing stale air to our family environment.

 

 

Why I said Yes

madeforeachother

So after he proposed, and I said yes, he sighed and said;

“Tilewa, I have some questions for you to answer”.

I looked at my fourth finger and sighed;

I just got engaged to the man and he has started questioning me.

What’s he about to ask now? I mused.

‘‘I hope he is not going to ask me how many men I have slept with, or if I have ever been pregnant.’’ I stylishly put my left hand behind me. ‘‘There is no way he will get this beautiful ring back.’’ I decided

And then he started…

“Tilewa, why did you say yes”?

I sighed inwardly once again, what kind of JAMB question is this one now I asked myself. I smiled at him ready to tell him it was only because I loved him so much. I however decided to be honest.

‘‘Timi, I accepted your proposal for the following reasons’’;

  1. I am honest to GOD tired of living with my parents.
  2. I haven’t gotten any other offer yet and I will soon be 29.
  3. I am tired of my sister telling me what and what not to touch in her house. I want to be a madam of my own house too.
  4. I really want to stop hearing my mum nag about how a part of the house wasn’t properly cleaned.
  5. I think it’s time to have my wedding pictures on Bella Naija too
  6. I also said yes because I love the ring,

‘‘I couldn’t say no to such a ring’’, I concluded grinning oblivious to the shocked expression on his face.

He stood up and left the room without a word.

I watched him leave wondering why people hated to hear the truth. I made myself comfortable and looked for a perfect angle for the proposal picture, the one I was about to shock the social media world with. My stalkers revealed themselves when barely a second after I posted it on BBM and facebook, the comments began.

“Oh babe congrats”

“I’m so happy for you”                       

“When is the wedding”?

I responded to the first person with “thanks hun” and copied it; it was to be the standard response to everyone.

*****

I relaxed on Timi’s bed and changed the channel to Sound City, One of the problems I was sure our marriage was going to have will be Timi’s preoccupation with Universal Channel and the boring series they keep doing. I was having fun but kept feeling as if something was missing, after a full hour and there was still no sign of Timi, I sighed and picked my phone, he picked on the first ring.

“Hi baby”

“Tilewa”, he said simply

“Baby, are you pissed at what I said”?

 “Hmm”, he replied

“You know without any doubt that I want to be with you but for now those are my reasons”

‘‘Love grows with time. You know that right?”

“You know that baby, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond so I said;

“Please come home, so we can talk better”

“Outside the house already”

At that, I dropped the call and heard the front gate open and close almost immediately

He walked into the room and I met him with a hug

He hugged me back a little loosely.

“This is kinda crazy; we should be celebrating the proposal” I told him holding him closer.

‘‘Hold on a minute Tile, I think I should also tell you why I proposed marriage to you.’’

  1. I am tired of going to bed hungry on most nights
  2. I felt with all these sexually transmitted diseases around it will be better to put one woman in the house and get it free and constant.
  3. Mum would not let me rest, she keeps asking for grandkids
  4. I chose you out of all others because you are the only one with a well paying job

‘‘Is this a joke Timilehin? Where is love in all of these things you have said?’’

‘‘Well, I didn’t see love in any of those things you said too.’’

‘‘Its okay then, but I have to say this. You are going to be very miserable in this marriage if it ever happens.’’

  1. I don’t like cooking and marriage won’t make me like it
  2. Who says I won’t be sleeping with other men?
  3. I don’t intend to have kids for the next five years, so your mom has five more years to disturb you.
  4. I would be the only one to spend my money. The best I can do is borrowing you some which will be collected back by any means possible.

‘‘Babe you are a clown’’, Timilehin said frowning.

‘‘Bobo you are a dunce.’’ I replied drawing my sandals out from under his bed.

He sat on the bed fiddling with his wristwatch and then said; ‘‘Tile, since we have both realized we are not ready can I have my ring back?’’

‘‘No, you can’t have it back, what do you want me to tell my friends who have already seen it on blackberry messenger and facebook?’’

‘‘You can tell them it got missing, just get creative.’’

‘‘No Timilehin, I would have to borrow this for a while and after some time I can tell them you dropped dead and return it to you.’’

‘‘I dropped dead? What sort of nonsense is that?

‘‘Bye Timilehin.’’ I said moving to the door of his one room apartment.

‘‘How about a good bye kiss and errm, err….?’’ He asked scratching his head.

black_love_art_4~~element493

‘‘I can do that.’’ I replied dropping my bag on the rugged floor and heading towards  him.

 

images credit: google images

Boarding Tales ~Episode XI (Yewande’s Story)

africangirlbig

For previous episodes please click here

 

Yewande’s Story

I knew when the dog started howling. I also knew they would all wake and start their usual chants of “blood of Jesus’’. I wonder what makes them think that Jesus would listen to them. Sometimes I would also wonder why whatever it was that made the noise couldn’t barge into one of the dormitories and take one or two people. This was sin high school; the great citadel of sex, play and books all in that order, why would Jesus want to listen to anyone here I thought as I wrapped my snow white blanket tighter around me.

I hated the school and was somehow glad I was finally going to be expelled. I had told mum from the start that I didn’t want to attend a boarding school but she had insisted. I know it might be because of the day she caught me with the house maids but most times I prefer to think she just wanted to be rid of me.

It wasn’t like I had been doing anything that day, all I did was watch. I still can’t understand how that can be a crime.

Mom had travelled on one of her business trips, I think Dubai or Spain. Whenever she was not around the house became Aunt Shadia’s. We had four housemaids and Aunt Shadia was the head. That was another thing about Mom that I never understood, I didn’t understand why we needed four people to take care of just two of us. It was convenient for me to be honest, I never had to bother about washing plates, clothes, sweeping or any of those other arduous house chores.

So that day Aunt Shadia had gathered the other house helps into Mom’s room as was their practice whenever she was not around.  They had locked the door from the inside and warned me sternly to stay put in my room and watch MTV like I usually do.

I innocently nodded my head. I was Eleven yearsold but I wasn’t blind, neither was I stupid. I had been curious about what it was that they did in the room for hours and had satisfied my curiosity on one occasion. I had been alarmed and intrigued at the same time by what I saw.

I had peeped through the key hole that day and saw all four of them stark naked. Two of them had been spread-eagled on mum’s double bed another two were kneeling between the legs of the girls on the bed. I had been shocked, I didn’t fully understand what it was they were doing but knew even then that whatever it was, it was something mummy must not know about.

On the day we all got caught, they had gone inside the room as usual and I had also gone to watch. I was probably too engrossed in what I was watching to hear Mom walk towards me. It wasn’t until I was shoved aside that I realised she was beside me. I placed a palm on my mouth and moved backwards. What’s she doing here, I gasped. Aunty Shadia is dead I thought as I watched her place an eye over the key hole.

After what seemed like an eternity, she banged furiously over the door.

‘‘Shadia, Titi, Mojoyin, Shade e ko ara yin bo sita’’

I rested my back against the wall and watched as Mom paced the corridor. I glanced at the door of the room wishing they would be lucky enough to have disappearing powers and not have to face her.

They walked out in a single file and stood by the wall head bowed. I was scared wondering if mum was going to punish me along with them.

‘‘Shadia,Titi,Mojoyin, Shade go inside and pack your stuffs. You are leaving my house today.” she said already dialling a number.

They all fell on their knees and started pleading. ‘‘Sorry ma, it was the devil, we didn’t know what came over us.’’ They went on and on begging her in the name of all the deities on earth. Mom was unyielding, she placed a call to their agent and told them the helps he got her have done an act she cannot forgive and so she wanted them out. He told the man they will be outside the gate.

‘‘What are you people still waiting for?’’ she bellowed. ‘‘Oh you want me to call the security man to throw you out ehn?’’  ‘‘Eyin omo irankiran, so you people want to influence my daughter abi? I won’t allow that, anyway I’m going to the kitchen to get a drink; I must not meet you here when I get back.’’

****

By evening all the helps had gone and that was when Mom called me into the living room for a talk. She said she has decided I should go to a boarding school, she added that she had information about a good one and that it would be convenient for both of us.

‘‘I don’t want to leave you with house helps again and you know my business requires that I travel frequently. I promise I would check you from time to time.’’

‘‘Mummy, I don’t want to go to boarding school.’’

‘‘Of course you don’t want to, you would prefer watching err err stuffs like the one you were watching this afternoon and before I know it you would join them. There is no discussion about this, you are going to boarding school and that’s final.’’

I had watched as she stood up and left for her room wondering for perhaps the hundredth time what it would have been like to have a father. That was another topic mum would always bully me on. My father was dead and I had to accept it like that. There was no need to see his pictures or any of his relatives, he was simply dead.

 Like everything else that concerned me I had to do Mom’s wish and that was how I got to boarding school. I wasn’t surprised to realise mum didn’t mean it when she said she would visit regularly, neither was I too surprised when she suggested I spend my holidays in school as she was out of town. By the time I was in J.S.S2 she decided I was old enough to stay on my own if she wasn’t around. I never missed her much anyway; we just didn’t have the mother-daughter relationship.

To my many suspensions, she would place a call to the principal and apologise for whatever I had done, she would make promises on my behalf that I would be a better person by the time I come back. I would get home and if she was around, we would never get around to talking about my crime. She just didn’t want to know the details so long as I promise to change my ways. Perhaps Mom did not want to be a hypocrite. You don’t condemn a child for doing something she knows you also do. That was my belief although I wouldn’t have dared to say such to her.

****

I didn’t start out as wayward girl in boarding school. I had gotten to the school with the thoughts of attending classes, reading and making friends. Mr Adisa changed that vision for me. I met him the first day I resumed. He was the one that received us; he assured my mum they were going to take very good care of me. Mum was impressed and even showed it by handing some naira notes to Mr Adisa.

In the days that followed, he would call me his baby, his pet. He would tell the seniors to treat me well that I am his dark and lovely.

The day I would move from pet to lover, he had come to the hostel very early on a Saturday morning and asked that I and another senior follow him to the assembly hall.

We got there and he said we should sit beside him, one on his left, and the other on his right.

He then brought out a bottle of Calypso and Fanta from the small bag he had been carrying and asked that we drink.

‘‘There is no cup sir’’, I had said and he laughed saying ‘‘can’t you kiss me?’’

‘‘I want both of you to kiss me o so we will all drink from this bottle.’’

He poured some Fanta into the half empty bottle of Calypso, shook the mixture and drank some. When he was through he handed the bottle to Chiamaka the other girl.

‘‘Uncle, you have started o, I have told you I don’t like alcohol.”

‘‘Iwo wo, Orobo, Orobo mi o’’, he exclaimed poking the girl in the ribs, I watched in astonishment as she giggled softly slapping Mr Adisa on the wrists.

I watched on as she drank from the bottle and passed it to me.

‘‘I’m not drinking sir’’, I said my voice shaking.

‘‘Okay no problems if you don’t want to drink.’’

‘‘I want you both to escort me to the admin block over there. I’m going back to the staff quarters but you guys will escort me to the admin block and turn back.’’

We both stood up and followed him, some few yards to the admin block, he stopped and turning to Chiamaka he told her to call the hostel prefect girl for him.

‘‘Okay sir’’, she had said turning back immediately.

‘‘Let’s go Yewande’’ he said putting my palm in his.

I walked on with him, I wanted to say something after we passed the admin block and turned to the bush path that led to the staff quarters but for some reason the words came out silent. I saw the staff quarters ahead but we kept going and still I kept quiet, not a word even when we entered Mr Adisa’s sitting room and he told me to sit on a chair. He entered the room and came out after about ten minutes. It was when he came out that I found my voice and started screaming alarmed at what I saw.

to be continued

photo credit: google images

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